Oblivion (Alphaholes #4)

24. Evan

24

EVAN

I don’t enjoy her fear, but I definitely don’t hate it as much as I should. The look in her eyes as I threaten her is as exciting as it is horrifying. I don’t want her to be scared of me, but the wild rebellious streak in her will push me too far if she doesn’t learn how to lean into the boundaries I’m setting without breaking them.

I don’t want her too submissive and willing, at least not all the time. But I don’t want to have to keep forcing her to understand the lengths I’ll go to, to keep her either. She pushed me last night, and although I might not have screamed, shouted, or made a scene, I felt the break in me like a physical wound.

But watching her fall apart and not being able to comfort her was worse. She offered me things that were hard for me to refuse, but it wasn’t until I denied her that she finally saw that offering me her, in exchange for saving him, was only making things worse.

Even now, I can see the weight of her guilt reflected back in her eyes, and I don’t want to be the reason her soul is burdened, but I refuse to allow her to use her sexuality as a weapon to hurt me. I might be an asshole and maybe a bit of a psycho, but I don’t deserve that.

I want all the things she tried to barter with. A wedding, a binding contract, her ass, but I don’t want her to use those things like bargaining chips. I’ll take them all eventually anyway, but I want her to want them too, not just offer them as a way to assuage her guilt.

When she sucks in a trembling breath, her eyes wide with a mixture of terror and desire, instead of restraining her, I let her go, smiling widely at her like I just told her I was buying her a kitten, not threatening to brand my name into her skin.

Taking her hand, I lead her through the quad to the building where her first class of the day is being held. Once we’re outside the building, I curl my arm around her waist and pull her to me. Her lips part as she tips her head back to look at me, and I lean down, claiming her lips with mine and kiss her long and hard and possessively, putting on a show for everyone around us, so they’ll all know she’s mine.

“Enjoy your class. I’ll be waiting for you once you’re finished.”

“Okay,” she says dazedly.

Chuckling softly to myself, I stroll to the coffee shop and order myself a drink, settling down into a seat, and checking my email while I wait for Sammy to finish class.

I’m not surprised when my cell dings with a new text message.

Bastian

Where are you? We need to talk.

Me

Coffee shop by the library.

Bastian

On my way.

Honestly, I expected Clay to be the first one to question the way I’m handling Sammy. Since Starling helped Bunny escape from Hunter, Clay has changed. I know that just like me, he’s always regretted the impact Bastian had on Starling and the part he played. I know that he had to face his own consequences when he sent January to Italy. But when Bunny disappeared and Hunter fell apart, Clay lost some of the edge he’s had his whole life.

I don’t know the full details, but I know that he’s the one who found Bunny and flew her to New York to meet with Hunter. Since then, there’s been a softness that’s replaced some of the lethal privilege we were all raised to feel.

That’s not to say that he’s not just as capable of being as ruthless as the rest of us should the need arise to protect his family or business. But January has made him consider his actions more than he’s ever had to before.

After I asked him to help me ruin the Landons, I wondered if he’d been willing to help, so it’s odd that Bastian is the first one to seek me out.

The door to the coffee shop opens moments later, and my brother strolls in, his posture relaxed even if he does look like a scary motherfucker. Where Clay has softened since Starling dropped Bunny’s tracker onto the dining table all those weeks ago, Bastian has hardened. He and Starling are married, but when she cut the tracker from her friend’s skin, she demonstrated clearly that if she decided to run, she’d be more than capable of disappearing, and despite how insane, controlling, and obsessed Bastian might be, he may not ever be able to find her.

Even though he’s never said anything, it’s fear that I can see in his eyes. Worry that the woman he loves may someday vanish without a trace, and there’s nothing he can do, short of actually locking her in the cage he’s threatened her with before.

“Do you want another coffee?” he asks when he reaches my table.

“Sure.” I nod, watching as he moves to the counter and orders our drinks before taking the seat opposite me.

Leaning back, I exhale and wait for him to say whatever he came here to say.

“Starling is worried,” he finally says.

“Okay.”

“Sammy told her that she’s not sure she’ll be able to live with the guilt of knowing that you destroyed Landon and his entire family because of something she did.”

Crossing my arms over my chest, I stay quiet.

“Have you considered how you’ll handle Sammy if she turns that guilt into hate and focuses it on you?” he asks concisely.

“Are you suggesting I let it go?”

“No,” he scoffs.

“Then why are you here?”

“Because my wife asked me to talk to you, and now I have.”

“Why hasn’t Starling come to me instead?” I question.

“She’s still figuring out how to be around you. How to be around all of us, to be honest. Hunter’s behavior toward her, plus Bunny deciding to come home, and then Sammy getting engaged has been hard for her.”

“She’s the one who preached about consequences—” I start.

“I think we all know that she has the right to be angry and to lash out,” Bastian cuts me off.

Exhaling sadly, I nod. “Yeah. Are you worried about her?”

I’m shocked when Bastian lifts his hand to the back of his neck and rubs. “I’ve barely fucking slept since Bunny went AWOL,” he admits.

“Why?”

“I’m terrified she’ll be gone when I wake up.”

“She loves you,” I say, trying to reassure him.

“I know. But that doesn’t mean she won’t leave me.”

This is the first time since the night that Starling was attacked by another student that I’ve seen true fear in his eyes. “Does she still have her tracker?”

“Yes, but she’s shown how easily she could remove it.”

“So, tag her again, like I have with Sammy. Drug her and put them in places she wouldn’t think to look. Do whatever you have to do.”

“I’ve considered it,” he admits, exhaling as some of the tension bleeds from his shoulders.

“Do you honestly think she’ll run?” I question. “She just begged me to bring Sammy back here, so why would she leave now?”

“I don’t know,” he admits. “I know she loves me. She’s not acting any different…well apart from giving you free rein to claim Sammy. But there’s something different about her. There has been ever since Bunny ran,” he admits.

“Have you tried talking to her about it?”

“I’m not sure I want to know the answers to my questions,” he admits.

A dry laugh bursts from my lips. “So, the plan is to just pretend you’re not worried and never sleep again, then?”

“Pretty much.” He shrugs. “What are you going to do about Sammy?”

My own weary sigh matches his from only moments earlier. “I haven’t decided yet.”

“You want to let her off, but you don’t want her to think you won’t go through with your threats.” He chuckles, the sound full of smug amusement.

“No, I’m still going to destroy that asshole. I’m just debating if I want to force her to watch.”

My brother’s eyebrows snap up, shock etched across his features. “You’re still going through with it?”

“Of course.”

“But…”

“But what? I warned her what would happen. I won’t back down, but I don’t know if making her face the destruction she’s wrought would be a mistake.”

“You think it’ll push her too far?” he questions.

“Yes, but that’s okay. She needs to be pushed. She needs to understand that I don’t make threats I’m not willing to follow through with. Sammy is too wild to be tamed. She needs to be corralled, but only for me, only by me. I’m showing her that her only option is me. Her only future is with me.”

Bastian’s contemplative for a long moment, and when he lifts his gaze to meet mine again, there’s a gleam of pride in his eyes. I don’t know if he’d mistaken my guilt and regret for softness, but I’ve never been soft. Just like Starling told us all when Bunny ran, actions have consequences, and I’ve been living with mine. I’ve learned from what I did, and I’m different because of it, but that doesn’t mean that I’ve softened. I haven’t. In fact, because of what we did to Starling and how that affected her, I’m possibly harder than I was before. I’ll still claim Sammy. I’ll still own her, control her, consume her, I just won’t need to lock her in a cage to do it.

“Don’t break her,” Bastian says, breaking the silence.

“I won’t have to,” I say confidently.

After we’ve finished our drinks, Bastian slaps me on the shoulder before he leaves. I hope he figures things out with Starling, especially if we’re going to try having the sibling relationship she promised me.

Checking my phone for the time, I shove it into my pocket and push up out of my chair. Strolling back toward the building where Sammy’s class is, I try to make a decision about how to handle the Landon matter.

I know she regrets allowing him to touch her. I know she feels guilty and remorseful. I know that pushing her too much would be a mistake, but I also can’t allow this to go unpunished. Resigned, I send a text message.

Me

Is it done?

The reply comes almost immediately.

Clay

Fifteen minutes. Lavern House.

Me

Perfect.

Clay

Are you sure about this?”

Me

Yes.

Closing down the messaging app, I push my cell back into my pocket and focus my attention on the door, waiting for my wild one to appear.

After the door opens, I spot her in the middle of a crowd of people. Her arms are wrapped around her middle, and she’s walking cautiously, ensuring that she doesn’t brush against someone as she makes her way to me. Her behavior makes me smile and reasserts the fact that I’m doing the right thing in following through on the threats I made.

When she spots me, her cheeks tinge pink, and she steps even more carefully, turning to the side and shuffling through the bunch of kids that are all loitering at the bottom of the steps. Crooking my finger, I beckon her to me, and she bites her lip as she closes the distance between us.

The moment she’s close enough, I slip her bag from her shoulder and pull her to me. Wrapping my arm around her waist, I lift her off the floor and bring her to my lips, kissing her possessively. “How was your class?” I ask, lowering her to the ground but keeping her pinned to my side with an arm around her waist.

“It was good.”

“Where did you sit?”

“Err.” Her brows furrow, and she twists her head to look up at me. “The middle of the room. Why?”

“Alone?”

“No, a girl who was in some of my freshman classes sat by me.”

“Good.”

Her eyes widen, and her lips pull into a grin. “Are you really asking me if a boy sat by me in class?” She giggles.

“Haven’t you already learned your lesson about giving guys false hope?” I ask, allowing an edge of annoyance to slip into my voice.

“I can’t get up and move anytime a guy sits beside me in class. What if it’s assigned seating?”

“I’ve explained the rules. I’m just reminding you of them,” I say coolly. “Come on, we have somewhere to be.”

“Where are we going? I wanted to get a coffee before lunch.”

“I’ll make you a coffee at home or bring you to fetch one before your next class.”

Keeping her at my side, I walk us back to the cart, then take off down the path toward the student housing. Collinswood, the house we live in, is situated toward the back of the expansive campus. Our place and the other properties around it benefit from a little more space and a lot that’s large enough to have an enclosed driveway, a pool, and a backyard.

To get to our house, you have to pass all the other mini suburbs that make up the rest of the student housing. When Sammy started school, she lived in a house about halfway between the main campus buildings and our place, and as we pass her little cul-de-sac, she glances to look at it.

Once we reach the next turnoff, I guide the cart around the bend, slowing to a stop outside Lavern House. It’s a fairly large colonial revival-style home, with pretty flowers planted in the beds beneath the front windows.

There are two carts parked in the driveway, a student one identical to the one we’re sat in right now, and a security cart that’s painted an obnoxious neon yellow color, with Security printed across the rear fender in large black letters.

“What are we doing here?” Sammy asks.

“Come here,” I say.

“What? Why?”

“I want you in my lap while we watch,” I say cryptically.

Clearly confused, she doesn’t move as quickly as I’d like, but when I make an annoyed grunt, she climbs out of the cart, walks around the front, and then comes to me. Twisting around in my seat, I lift her onto my lap, then shuffle backward so my butt is halfway across the front seat.

“What?” She giggles, placing one hand on the steering wheel and the other on the seat back.

Wiggling into a comfortable position, I lift her until she’s sitting on top of my half-hard cock, then slip my hand beneath the skirt of her dress.

“Evan,” she gasps, grabbing my wrist to stop my progress.

“Let go. Your skirt is long enough that no one can see.”

“Our house is five minutes away. Why can’t we do this at home?”

“We’ll go home soon, and you can bend over the seat while I fuck you from behind.”

Her shocked giggle is fucking music to my ears, and slowly her grip on my arm loosens. Sliding my palm up her thigh and between her legs, I smooth down her skirt with my free hand, making sure what I’m doing to her is hidden from view.

Finding the heat between her thighs, I run my fingers over the damp fabric of the tiny thong she put on this morning. I know she was hoping that the sight of her ass would have been enough to make me forget about last night, but it wasn’t. But right now, I’m glad that there’s only a scrap of mesh to push to the side as I dip my fingers into her folds, finding her clit and gliding over it as I find her entrance and push a single finger into her soaked hole.

“Evan,” she gasps, grabbing at my wrist again as I sink my finger in up to the knuckle.

“Widen your legs a little,” I growl against her ear.

It takes a moment for her grip to loosen, but the moment she lets go, her thigh muscles that had tightened around my arm relax too.

“Good girl,” I praise, pulling my finger from her sex, then immediately adding a second and pushing them back into her again.

Her breath hitches, and a tiny shudder ricochets through her as I slowly finger fuck her cunt, right out in the open, in full view of Lavern-fucking-House.

“Do you need to come?” I rasp against her ear.

“Yes,” she pants, unable to push back against my fingers from her position in my lap.

Slipping a second hand under her skirt, I find her clit and rub it.

“Make sure you’re covered,” I hiss, curling the fingers inside of her in a come-hither motion that makes a soft whine fall from her parted lips.

Her hands drop to her skirt, holding the fabric down while I toy with her beneath it. Her breath puffs out in choppy rasps as the front door to Lavern House opens and two campus security guards exit, followed by Trevor Landon pulling a huge suitcase behind him.

Sammy freezes the moment she sees him.

“Don’t you dare fucking move,” I snarl.

We’re far enough away that we can’t hear what Trevor’s saying or what the stoic campus security are saying back to him, but we’re close enough to see the shock and anger and fear on his face.

“You did this,” I say, biting down on Sammy’s neck as I finger fuck her pussy hard and fast, pinching her clit and forcing pleasure from her, even as I make her watch while Trevor Landon is being expelled from the university.

“No, Evan. No,” she protests, but she’s too close to the edge, and I force an orgasm from her as tears spill from her eyes.

“You’re mine, Sammy,” I snarl, biting her a second time, hard enough to leave a mark on the spot where her neck meets her shoulder. Torn between pushing me away and keeping her skirt down so no one sees my fingers buried deep inside of her, she whimpers and cries.

“Again, I want you to come on my fingers while you watch that boy’s dreams be ripped out from under him. I want you consumed by pleasure while his life falls apart,” I tell her, rubbing and pinching her clit until she comes again, slapping her hand over her mouth to stifle the sounds of her orgasm.

As the peak of her release starts to fade, I don’t stop fingering her, prolonging her pleasure until the guards usher Trevor into the security cart, load his case onto the seat beside him, and drive past us on the way to the main gates.

“You’re mine, Sammy. My woman. My wild one. Fucking mine. Do you understand?” My voice is rough and hard, but I need her to hear my determination. I need her to learn that I’m not fucking around. That I’ll do everything I’ve told her I will do to make her mine and keep her.

“I hate you,” she whimpers.

“Today, you can hate me. Tomorrow, you get the fuck over it. That boy’s life is over, and it’s your fault. I won’t stop myself from ruining him, but because I love you, I won’t make you watch. That was the last time you’ll ever see him. From now on, you’ll forget his name, you’ll forget he ever existed. Today I’ll take every ounce of your hate, but tomorrow we go back to normal, and we start talking about our wedding.”

“I won’t marry you. Not now. Not after this,” she snaps, pushing at my arms, trying to free herself from my fingers that are still inside her.

“Because the feeling of your hot cunt around my fingers has me in a good mood, I’ll give you a choice. We can have the wedding of your dreams that you plan with a limitless budget next month, or we can have the wedding of my dreams this weekend, and you’ll have no say over anything except your dress. Pick.”

“How could you think I’d agree to marry you after this?” she sobs.

“Because this is what you wanted, Sammy. You wanted me wild for you. You wanted the real, unedited, dirty kind of love that’s raw and fucked up and painful. You pushed me to this, and you know it. That’s why you feel so guilty. You’ll marry me, not to save him, but because deep down, this is exactly what you need. The choice to be forced.”

“No.” The word slips from her lips, but it’s a lie, and we both know it.

“Next month, or this weekend. Choose now, or I’ll pick for you, and we both know which option I’ll go for.”

“Next month,” she whimpers, tears clogging her throat and deepening her melodic voice.

“Next month it is, Mrs. Morris.”

A tremor runs through her at the sound of her new name, and I smile to myself. Not long now until I officially make her mine.