Chapter 27 Willow
WILLOW
I pull my hair up into a ponytail, holding it with one hand as I look at myself in the mirror.
After a few seconds, I make a face and let my hair fall back down around my shoulders again.
Having it pulled up shows off just the top of the scars that spread up my shoulder almost to my neck, and I don’t want that.
So down it is.
I’ve gotten a bit dressed up for the date, although it feels kind of silly, in a way.
I’m wearing a dress that Olivia helped me pick out, in a soft rose color, and it looks good on me.
It flatters my figure and hides my scars, which is all I can really ask of any of my clothes.
But I don’t feel confident or excited about any of this.
My stomach is in knots, and I feel slightly sick and nervous about the whole thing.
I keep telling myself it’s just first date butterflies. I told Joshua that I haven’t been on a date in a long time, and technically, that’s true. Never is a really long time.
It’s not like I can call going to some shitty party with Colin a date, especially after what happened afterward. And although I’ve had plenty of intimate moments with the Voronin brothers, they weren’t exactly dates either.
Joshua is probably old-fashioned. He’s probably going to hold the car door for me and pay for dinner, and I have no idea how to act on a first date.
So it would make sense for me to be nervous because of my inexperience with dating… but deep down, I know that’s not the reason.
It’s because I don’t even really want to go.
But this is what normal people do. They have dates on the weekend with nice, normal guys. So I take a deep breath and try to calm myself down.
I can’t help but glance over at the cameras still up in my room, biting my lip as I do.
Is Vic still watching? Does he know what I’m doing tonight?
The intercom buzzer makes a loud noise in the other room, and I jump in surprise, startled out of my thoughts.
It’s not even seven yet, which means Joshua must’ve gotten out of work earlier than he expected. With one last quick glance in the mirror, I head into the living room and hit the button, trying to sound happy and breezy.
“Come on up.”
I press another button to unlock the front door downstairs, then smooth my hands down my dress and go to the door, waiting until I hear footsteps approaching to open it.
“You’re earl—”
I break off mid-sentence as Malice bursts in, pushing past me in a rush.
My heart lurches, and I stumble back, shocked to see him. It’s clear he’s pissed off, anger and irritation pouring out of him in waves. My chest goes tight, making it hard to breathe. His overwhelming presence seems to take up all the space in the room.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he demands, glaring down at me. His eyes are a stormy swirl of emotion, and I blink, shaking myself and trying to gather my composure.
“I’m… I’m going on a date,” I tell him. “What are you doing here?”
“The fuck you are,” he snaps.
The dismissive tone of his voice puts a spark to my own anger, and I straighten my shoulders, glaring right back up at him. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me. I don’t know who the hell this guy is, but if he thinks he’s taking you out, he’s in for a big fucking surprise.”
“That’s not up to you to decide!” I snap. “You can’t just barge in here and—”
“You’re not going!” Malice practically roars, and my mouth snaps shut. “I don’t even know why the fuck you’d want to go out with some nobody.”
“He’s not a nobody,” I bite out, my entire body vibrating as my heart picks up speed, racing like a jackrabbit. “You don’t even know who it is.”
“I don’t have to,” Malice retorts. “I know the type of assholes you’ve been hanging around with lately. He doesn’t give a shit about you.”
I snort, stepping past him and striding quickly toward the door.
It didn’t even shut all the way after he burst in, and now I yank it wide, holding it open as I turn to face him.
“You don’t know anything. And you have no right to tell me what to do.
I don’t belong to you or your brothers, so you can all just butt out! ”
Malice makes a noise in his throat, low and rough. He stalks toward me slowly, making my heart beat harder with every step he takes.
“You’re wrong about that,” he says evenly. “You’re ours.”
I shake my head, my hair shifting around my shoulders. Tears burn in my eyes, and my chest aches as I force out the words. “I don’t want to be. I don’t want to belong to you if you lie to me and treat me like a pawn.”
Malice reaches me, his entire body taut with barely contained energy. The dark, spicy scent that’s uniquely him tickles my nostrils, and instead of walking out the door as I’m clearly gesturing for him to do, he shuts it.
We’re standing face to face in front of it now, and he looks down at me as he shakes his head, a muscle working in his cheek.
“You’re not a pawn,” he tells me, his voice lowered. “You never have been. You’re a fucking queen. You’re the only person in this whole goddamned world who could bring me to my knees. The only person who’s ever crawled inside my soul.”
My jaw drops open as all the air rushes from my lungs.
I stare up at him, stunned by the honesty in his words. I’ve never heard him say anything like that before. He’s been possessive, sure, and he’s made it clear that I’ve affected him and the others as much as they’ve affected me, but this is something… different.
This is raw honesty.
This is Malice laying himself bare in a way I don’t know if he ever has with anyone before.
The tension between us tightens even more, and I don’t know what to say or what to do. I should throw him out. I should tell him I don’t care and I don’t want any part of this, but I don’t. I can’t.
The buzzer goes off again, cutting through the loaded silence.
I jerk in surprise and reach over to press the intercom button, not glancing away from Malice or moving an inch.
“Who is it?” I ask.
A male voice comes through the speaker. “It’s Joshua. Sorry, I know I called to say I’d be late, and now I’m a little early.”
I pull my hand away from the intercom button, swallowing hard.
Malice is still staring down at me, his eyes burning like an inferno. He shakes his head, and his tongue darts out to lick his lips.
“Don’t go out there, Solnyshka,” he rasps. “Please. Don’t go with him.”
It takes me a few tries to find my voice, and when I do, it comes out in a whisper. “Why not?”
“Because I already have enough blood on my hands, and if he touches you, I’ll fucking kill him.”
The words are harsh, but his tone isn’t.
I don’t know if anything about Malice can be called soft, but that’s what it feels like.
Like it’s less of a threat and more of a promise that he’s making.
Like it wouldn’t even be a choice, but an inevitability that he would end any other man who touched me.
It hits me right in the chest, and my pulse is racing so fast I can almost taste it.
My hand shakes a little as I hit the intercom button again, Malice’s eyes searing into me the whole time.
“I-I’m sorry, Joshua,” I whisper. “I’m not feeling well. I can’t go out tonight.”
“Oh. Alright, that’s—”
That’s as far as he gets before Malice is ripping my finger off the button, pulling my hand away from it completely. He sweeps me up into his arms, then backs me against the wall.
I don’t get a chance to speak, or even really to catch a breath before he’s kissing me, hot, hungry, and hard. His arms are tight around me, and it feels like I fit perfectly right here, in the desperate cradle of them.
All the possessiveness I saw in his eyes when he showed up here is mirrored in this kiss.
It’s like being caught in the middle of the ocean during a thunderstorm, lips, teeth, tongues colliding like the wildest elements.
Whenever I draw back to drag in a breath of air, Malice chases me, his mouth finding mine immediately, pulling me back under.
It’s as if a dam is breaking between us. All the arguing and tension that’s been building finally snaps, letting out a torrent of feelings and sensations that neither of us can fight.
“Ya zhe govoril, chto ne otpushchu tebya,” he murmurs in Russian. “Ya ne mogu. Nikogda ne smogu.”
I can feel the heat of him, the solid line of his body pressing against me, keeping me pinned against the wall and giving me nowhere to go.
My heart races, but it’s not from fear. This is pure adrenaline, pure need, and I give in to it, grinding against him, hitching one leg up so I can get the friction I need.
I pour myself into the kiss, letting myself go, giving in to all the shit I’ve been trying to hold back. That voice in my head that’s been telling me it’s better to stay away from him and his brothers is silenced, replaced by a silent refrain of ‘yes.’
Yes. Yes.
“Fuck,” Malice grunts, and he sounds as wrecked as I feel right now. “Fuck, you taste so goddamned good. No one else can have you, do you understand me? No one else. You belong to us. With us. And if anyone thinks they can take you away—”
I cut him off with another kiss, swallowing whatever threat he’s about to make. I don’t need to hear it. I can feel it in every movement he makes. The way his hands move over my body, groping me, touching me everywhere and setting me on fire.
If his brothers were here, they might be doing the same thing. Ransom holding me up as he takes his turns kissing me, Vic watching with his heavy-lidded gaze. But it’s just me and Malice right now, and it feels like he’s trying to do the work of all of them in their absence.
“Gonna make sure you never forget,” he mutters, squeezing my ass and using that grip to haul me in even closer to him. “You won’t be able to think about anyone else when I’m done with you. Gonna mark you. Gonna fucking claim you.”
“Malice,” I moan back, rolling my hips against him. My clit is throbbing, and grinding against him just stokes the fire even more, threatening to burn me up.
“Say it again,” he growls, kissing his way down my neck and then biting hard enough to make me cry out.
“Malice.” I groan his name, shuddering hard. “Please.”
He pulls back, and his eyes have bled to a deep, almost black color, the raw desire in them overshadowing anything else. He grabs the front of my dress, and I think he’s going to pull it over my head to get me out of it, but instead he just rips it, tearing the bodice down the middle.
I gasp as a cool rush of air gusts over my suddenly exposed skin, and Malice rips the dress even more, leaving the shredded fabric bunched around my waist.
“That was expensive,” I murmur, my chest heaving as my nipples peak.
“I don’t give a shit.”
His hands roam over my chest, groping my breasts, yanking down my bra.
He dips his head and kisses the tattoo he gave me, right above my heart.
His mouth is warm, and I know that with his lips right there, he can feel how hard my heart is pounding.
It’s like he’s trying to cement his mark on me, to seal it in somehow, and I think back to how irritated he looked when I said I was looking into having it removed.
It’s clear that he loves seeing it still there, and I can feel the hard line of his cock when he grinds against me. My body responds, and I push back against the wall as I try to press myself closer to him.
Malice alternates between kissing my lips, my neck, and my shoulders, whispering filthy things the entire time. Telling me how he loves to watch me when I’m needy as fuck like this.
He’s right. I am needy as fuck, and the longer this goes on, the closer and closer I get to falling apart. My body feels like one giant exposed nerve, each sensation hitting me hard, and when he wedges his thigh between my legs, I let out a desperate little moan, unable to hold it back.
Pleasure is coiling low in my belly, and my hips buck harder, chasing the friction I need to finally fly over the edge.
“Fuck,” Malice grunts. “You’re close, aren’t you?”
I nod, barely able to speak anymore.
He groans and shifts position, dragging me against him and pressing his crotch right to mine, letting me feel how hard he is. I wrap my legs around him, practically dry humping him as his clothed cock grinds against my clit.
“You feel what you do to me, Solnyshka?” he asks, fisting my hair with his free hand and holding me up with the other. “Only you. You’re the only one who gets me like this. So use my cock to make yourself come. It’s yours.”
I whimper at his words and at the feeling of his thick length pulsing against me, all of it combining to send me flying headfirst into a breath-stealing orgasm. Malice holds me through it, grinding against me while I tremble from the force of it.
“Oh… please… fuck…” I hold on to him for dear life, my legs tightening around his waist as a guttural noise pours from my lips.
“Goddamn,” he groans, sounding tortured. “I can feel you coming. You’re so hot and wet against my cock.”
As the waves of pleasure start to ebb away, Malice uses his tight grip on my hair to yank me into another kiss. He bites at my lips and thrusts his tongue into my mouth, as if he’s trying to devour me.
When our lips finally break apart, he drags me away from the wall, breathing hard as he stares down at my face.
“I need to be inside you,” he pants. “Right now. Or I might fucking die.”