Page 62 of Crown of Steel

“Uh uh.” He shakes his head. “Not gonna happen.Viens.” He lifts his glorious, strong thighs to roll the blankets back, and when I don’t obey fast enough, he crooks his finger at me. “Allez, viens.”

Biting on my lip, I go through my options. There’s no way that I can go back into the woods now. At the thought of the woods, I turn around, only to freeze when I see a flicker of light shining through the oak trees.

I blink, but it’s still there. I blink again, but don’t wait to see. As if the outside danger pushes me in my back, I slowly drag my feet toward the bed, heart thundering in my ribcage. Arthur’s eyes flicker with delight. “You’re going to tell me where the hell you were just now. Come here, you’re trembling.” His nostrils flare when I halt in front of the bed. “Now strip.”

“Strip?” I sniff. “Absolutely not.”

He lets out an annoyed huff, then leans forward, laying on his stomach as he crawls toward me and reaches for my pants. Grinding my teeth, I hate how my cock perks up at his simplest of touches. “You’re not going to sleep in your school uniform, are you?” Opening my belt, he opens the fly, and we both watch how my pants drop down my narrow waist until they puddle around my feet. My hand flies out, but I’m sure I’m too late to cover up my half hard dick. Arthur peers up at me through his thick lashes, a wicked grin on his face.

“Where were you?” He pulls on my wrist, and with a grunt, I remove my hand from my crotch to unbutton my cuffs, before taking off my socks and shoes.

“I’m not going to tell you,” I grind out through gritted teeth. After I pull my shirt over my head, my hand hurries to get back to my crotch, but Arthur slaps it away. Leaning in, he presses a soft, slow kiss onto my rapidly hardening cock, mouthing the rigid shape through the fabric with his lips, making me stifle a moan when something tight unfurls in the pit of my stomach. When he pulls back and gazes up, something wicked flares in his eyes, and it makes me clench my jaw. The asshole knows exactly what he’s doing to me. Humiliation blankets the tightness in my stomach.

“You also missed the conversation I had with Dad while watching the football team practice. I raised my concerns about you, little brother.”

“Concerns?” I breathe.

“Hmm.” He gives me another one of those innocent looking gazes, lashes fluttering when he blinks. “Dad asked me if, aside from school results, you were fitting in. And you know me, I just had to tell him the truth. Of how you haven’t been hanging out with us a lot. Your family.”

“That’s because I am busy.” I hiss.

“I know you are,” he soothes. “Come.” Grabbing my sides with his muscled arms, he pulls me forward, chuckling when Itumble onto the bed, then drags me under the warm blankets. The warmth makes me shiver again, before my body settles into the pleasant snugness. “There. That’s better. Now, tell me what you were doing out there.” Warm hands brush my forearms slowly, warming my skin with each firm stroke.

I squint my eyes in frustration. Fuck, I should have known better. “I was with Dominique.”

“Outside? Until one in the morning?” He leans his chin onto my shoulder while his hands continue working, and I can feel his soft puffs of air brushing my ear. Goosebumps erupt across my sensitive flesh, making my mind stutter and my eyes burn. Because having someone in my bed, holding me, feels so precious. It brings the kind of flutter that I could fly away on, like thousands of golden fireflies.

“I was—I—” My mouth locks, throat swallowing the words. I can’t tell him. Not him. Not anyone. Turning over my shoulder, I catch sight of the golden gleam of the moon as it shines through the curtains. During the random nights that I do actually manage to sleep in my bed, I usually lie facing the curtains with that slither of light, but tonight I’m rolled onto my left, facing the door. “Why do you care anyway? What are you doing here?”

His eyes glow like a ring of dark gold as he peers down at me like a cat, thick lashes fluttering when he blinks. He’s so close. Suddenly I don’t dare inhale deeply, afraid to inhale his unique scent of musk and Arthur, afraid to lose the shackles that keep me grounded and far, far away from others.

He shrugs. “Couldn’t sleep. Why were you crying before in Dad’s office? Is it because of something your mom said?”

“That’s none of your…” I lock my dried lips, then flinch when he pulls me in closer, his clothed chest burning through the cool flesh of my own skin. Arthur presses a soft kiss on my shoulder, then mumbles, “You know, my mom died when we were three.”

“What?” My heart thumps in my chest, my mind temporarily coming up empty.

“Car accident,” he continues, his soft voice caressing my ear. “She was behind the wheel when a truck drove into her and smashed her under the truck she was behind. She died on the spot.”

“I’m so sorry,” I breathe, voice a little husky. Finding his hand under the warm blanket, I squeeze, unable to formulate my sympathy in words.

He shrugs. “It was a long time ago, I don’t remember much of her. But I guess it explains why Dad won’t let us drive.”

“Never?” I finally ask.

He presses a soft kiss behind my ear, the hint of his plush lips lingering when he pulls back. “Never,chaton. I don’t know if you’ve ever noticed, but Didier always brings us everywhere.”

Turning over my shoulder, I frown at him. “So you can’t drive?” Arthur rolls his eyes, his gaze slowly morphing into something that surprisingly looks like amusement. “I didn’t know that,” I mumble to myself. Silence falls upon us while we lay on our sides, our hands intertwined, Arthur’s face glued to mine. “My Dad…” I swallow thickly, unblocking myself from anxiety before I continue to push out the words, “Taught me how to drive. I don’t have a permit, but I didn’t use the car often.”

Arthur snorts. “So you drove a car without a driver’s licence?”

“Only to buy groceries.”

“My little stepbrother,” he teases. “Such a little villain.”

“So, what was it like to grow up without your mother?” I whisper after a while. Arthur presses another kiss on my ear, this time on my lobe. It tickles a bit.

“Is that why you cried earlier?” He answers instead.

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