Page 26 of Fractured Loyalties
I blow apart. My load floods over my hand, hot and viscous, running down my knuckles and dripping into my pants. I jerk through it, squeezing every last spasm until it’s pain instead of pleasure. It takes everything I have to stay silent. I want to fucking burst through the door and make her clean me up with her mouth.
But instead, I just stand there, dizzy, empty, and hollow. It takes some time before the world snaps back into focus. I look down at the mess I’ve made, at the slick sheen on my skin and the dark, spreading stain in my pants.
She’s mine. She’s so mine.
Except… My head is still buzzing, and in the cold static of afterwards, something…snags. My mind runs back to the pickup today, back to the school where she was all giddy smiles and selfies with that unidentified surfer boy loser.
That’s who she was probably thinking about.
My soul dies instantly in my chest as I put all the pieces together. I press my palm flat to the door. I want to drag her out by her perfect hair and make her come again, sayingmyname this time.
He’s the worst mistake you could make, Ivy.I grit my teeth and then push off the door, although I don’t leave. No, I wipe my hand on my pants, scraping the come off like it’s an infection. My jaw aches from clenching, my chest is tight, and my mind is pure rage.
Breathe, Roman. You have to breathe.
It won’t last. She’ll forget the pathetic boy. I’ll make sure she remembers who owns her in this house. And she willbegfor me to touch her.
I just need to plan.I need to erase the guy, erase the memory of anything except my hands, my voice, and my body. I need to make her crave me so badly she can’t breathe.
Iknowthat the loser will be at the party. All of them always come. But if she gives him even a single look, I’ll end him. I’ll ruin his life so thoroughly he won’t be able to crawl out of bed without thinking of me.
I press my ear to the door again, listening for her breathing, memorizing every shudder.
You’re mine, Ivy. And I don’t fucking share.
Even in the midst of my anger, my cock still aches from the memory of her voice, and my hand is still sticky and trembling. My dick starts to harden again as I consider knocking on the door just to give her a hard time.
However, just as I reach for the knob, I freeze. A new sound, heels clicking on stone, sharp as broken teeth, reaches my ears in a painful tick. I take a few more steps back, wipe my palm on the inside of my shirt, and pivot, just as Irena emerges from the bend in the hallway.
Even if I’m not doing a thing in the moment, I already know I’m about to face her wrath. That’s just who she is now.
Irena floats toward me, as always, every inch of her sculpted and controlled. She’s in a tight-fitting dress, black as my father’s dead eyes, and cinched so tight it makes her waist look unreal.Her eyes are on me, cold and precise, her pupils shrunk to pinpricks by whatever the fuck she’s on tonight.
As much as I hate it, I brace for impact.
She doesn’t bother with hello. She slices her hand through the air, one manicured nail like a dagger, and points it dead at my chest. “What do you think you’re doing in this part of the house?”
I let my lips curl up in a lazy smile. “Just taking a walk? I didn’t know there were places we couldn’t go, Irena.” My voice is low, calm, as if I didn’t just come in my pants to the sound of her daughter getting herself off.
Irena steps closer, and the bloom of her expensive floral perfume hits me in the most suffocating way. “Don’t fucking lie to me, Roman. I know every inch of this house. I know every noise it makes. You’re never over here. And I swear,” she pauses, her eyes boring into mine, “If I ever catch you near Ivy’s room again, I’ll have Robert send you far, far away. Hopefully in a fucking prison.”
I can’t help but laugh at that, a bitter crack of amusement. “Prison? Are you projecting right now?”
For a split second, I think she’s going to slap me, the way her expression breaks with shocking emotion. But instead, she just leans in, her eyes narrowing to small slits. “You’re not even subtle about it, are you? You’d ruin her if you could. You’d ruin everything. You’re just like your father. You fucking disgust me. I thought I was raising you better than this.”
“You don’t care about Ivy,” I say, my voice as soft as a pillow over a pistol. “You never have. She’s just a weight to you, and you know it. You never went back for her after you left. You don’t want her. She’s nothing to you.”
“And you’re a disease,” Irena hisses, and this time her fingernail makes contact with my chest. “I said to stay away from her, and youwill. Everyone in this fucking place will.”
The urge to say something, anything, is like a hand at my throat. I want to grab Irena, shake her, and leave her bruised and sobbing the way her presence made my mother feel.
Fucking home-wrecking bitch.
“That’s what I thought,” she sneers, shaking her head at me in a way that causes her blonde hair to bounce.
I raise a brow, tilting my head and stepping into her finger once more. “You think you scare me?”
“I know I do,” she snaps, but her voice drops, getting tighter around the edges. “Don’t test me, Roman. You’ll lose.”
