Chapter 26
TWENTY-SIX
A sharp, pleasurable pain blooms on the side of my throat, tugging me out of sleep. At the same time, I register pleasure emanating from my clit, followed by the unmistakable sensation of a hard cock sliding in and out of me.
Holy shit.
Sylus’s breath is hot against my ear as he groans, “Fuck, I love you.” His words are a low rumble, sending shivers through me, and my eyes flutter open, reality sinking in.
I gasp.
“Shit, baby, you’re awake?”
The heat of him warms my back, and despite the initial shock, my body responds instinctively, a moan slipping past my lips as I press back into him.
His finger moves faster, applying the right pressure, drawing my hips into a rhythm that matches his.
My brain remains mercifully blank as pleasure overrides everything else.
“Perfect,” he whispers, his lips brushing against my neck. “Come for me.”
My body tenses before it obeys, and I come hard, my inner walls clenching around him, waves of ecstasy crashing over me. Then Sylus groans, burying himself deep, his body shuddering as he fills me with his warmth.
Fuck.
He keeps me close, wrapping his strong arms around me, nuzzling into my neck, his breaths ragged against my skin. “Thank you for the best fucking night of my life,” he pants out. “And morning.”
I chuckle groggily, still catching my breath and my bearings. “You had fun?”
He presses his hips against me, making sure I feel him still inside.
“Oh, you did, too, Sparkle baby,” he teases.
He leans away long enough to grab his phone from somewhere on the bed, then throws his arm over me, holding the screen in front of us.
A video starts playing. Him, fucking me, his cock sliding in and out of my pussy while he murmurs filthy, dirty things.
“Shit, Sylus,” I whisper, my eyes glued to the screen, the heat already building again between my legs, even as I still pulse with the aftershocks of my last orgasm.
God, that’s so fucking hot.
“Mm-hmm…” he hums into my neck, his fingers drifting back to my clit.
A whimper slips from me as the overstimulation hits, and I reach for his wrist, gripping it tightly.
He chuckles, warm and indulgent. “Sorry.” Brushing his lips against my ear, he whispers, “Want to take a shower with me? I’ve got an en suite, so you won’t have to see anyone in the hallway. ”
Only then do I register that we’re not at my place, and I glance around. “Where are we?”
“My room.” Sylus strokes my still-glittery shoulder. “You were out of it yesterday, so I brought you here.”
I frown and turn my head to look at him. “You could have stayed at my apartment with me.”
His lips brush against my cheek, which thankfully isn’t throbbing anymore. “Could I have?”
Where is this insecurity coming from all of a sudden?
“I told you you can.”
I told him he could break in, but that’s basically the same, right?
“Right,” he says, kissing my temple. “Fuck, you’re fucking everything.”
A pang of something bittersweet hits me, and I sigh.
I don’t want to be here. Potentially facing the others right now feels too heavy.
Yesterday, I managed to push all the lies and deceit away, pretending for a while that things were much simpler.
But today? Today, the weight of it all threatens to suffocate me if I let it in.
I try to keep those thoughts from showing in my expression, even if they settle deep, somewhere between my chest and throat.
Sylus’s words cling to me in a way that feels too raw, too exposed.
He’s always so open with his emotions, always so sure of what he feels.
I’ve never been good at that. I don’t know how to carry the weight of his devotion without feeling as though I might crack beneath it.
I glance away, swallowing against the lump in my throat. “I think I wanna go home.”
I need space.
I need to feel in control again, even if it’s only for a little while.
“You still pissed, baby?” Sylus asks gently as he slowly pulls out of me, leaving me feeling even more empty.
“No,” I lie, pulling away from him as I sit up. He follows, sitting beside me and brushing a strand of hair from my face. I glance down and notice the glitter that now covers his sheets.
Oh well.
“You have every right to be,” he reassures as his eyes search mine for answers. “You still pissed with me too?”
“No,” I say again, but this time, it’s the truth.
I need someone in my corner. And he’s right, he’s my person, at least until all of this is over, and I can finally leave.
If they keep their promises half as well as they tell their lies.
It’s my freedom, my way out, and I can’t let anyone get in the way of that.
This whole thing going on with these men is bigger than I thought. It’s all much more complicated than I’m equipped to handle.
“Good…” Sylus breaks my scattered thoughts as he cups my chin, lifting my face to meet his eyes, “… because you’re not getting rid of me now. You own me.”
“Sylus…” I sigh, immediately feeling guilty at his declaration. As much as I want to keep him close for comfort, hurting him is not what I want. “I can’t let you own me back.”
Being someone’s means trusting them, and that possibility is one I left behind the day the two people I ever trusted died.
He shrugs. “You don’t have to own something to love it.”
I freeze.
Love.
Did I hear him say that when I woke up?
He can’t mean that. He barely knows me.
Tension grips me, every instinct telling me to run before this gets even further out of my control.
He chuckles as if he can read my mind, then presses a soft kiss to my lips as he stands.
“Don’t overthink it, Sparkle. No need to hyperventilate.
Everything is all right and stays as it is.
” He grins. “I’ll grab you something to clean up and some sweats if you want to shower at home. ”
I take a deep breath as he disappears into a walk-in closet, giving me a view of his perfect ass, complete with a tattoo of a goose with a knife, of all things just like the smiley face on his foot. It’s so him.
I stand and look around the room for the first time.
It’s big. Big enough to make the giant bed seem proportionate.
There’s an amazing computer setup on a large desk by the window, three screens, controllers, and a gaming chair that looks like it costs more than all of my furniture combined.
But it’s all a mess. There’s a corner piled with clothes that are probably dirty, but it still smells good in here despite it.
Like him—warm leather and amber with a hint of weed.
All sorts of techy gadgets are scattered around. He’s definitely into all that stuff. I guess I never thought about what his place would be like, so it’s strange seeing this side of him.
I walk over to the desk, still naked, and spot a pack of cigarettes lying next to an almost full ashtray.
I glance around, trying to find my purse, but I don’t see it.
Instead, I grab the lighter from next to the ashtray and light a cigarette, turning to lean my hip against the desk as I inhale the smoke, and it instantly does a better job of calming me than anything else has.
Sylus emerges from the walk-in closet in a gray pair of sweatpants that hang low on his hips now, and his chest is bare, showing off all those defined abs, pierced nipples, and tattoos.
Damn him for being so hot.
His eyes rake over me, and his cum slides down the inside of my thigh as if in response to his presence.
His gaze zeroes in on it, and he groans, closing his eyes and letting his head fall back before he tosses the sweats he apparently grabbed for me onto the bed and closes the distance between us in a few steps.
Sylus kneels in front of me, his finger gliding up my thigh, collecting his cum before spreading it back over my pussy. “I wanted to help you clean up, but damn, now I want to make an even bigger mess,” he says, his voice dripping with heat as he kisses my pelvis.
“Stop it, you dork.” I chuckle and push his forehead away, taking another drag of my cigarette.
He stands, anchors his hands to my hips, and leans in to kiss me. I part my lips, letting the smoke drift into his mouth as he inhales, then I crash my lips to his in a long, deep kiss. He breaks it with a sigh, exhaling the smoke as he pulls away.
“Fuck, you’re trouble,” he murmurs, his eyes locked on mine.
Trouble.
The word sends a sharp pang through me, and I look away, shaking my head.
“I’m not,” I mutter, handing him the cigarette.
He takes it, his fingers brushing mine, and I walk over to the bed, grabbing the sweatpants and hoodie he tossed there.
I pull the sweatpants on first, not caring about the mess his cum is making.
It’ll be fine until I get home. The sweats are so long that the fabric bunches around my ankles, and I have to tug the drawstring tight so they don’t slip off me.
When I push my head out of the hoodie, an embroidery set next to his bed catches my eye. I pick it up, examining the small hoop. In a cute, simple embroidery style, flowers are surrounding the words Shit Balls, though the S is still unfinished. I turn to him in disbelief.
“You do embroidery?”
Sylus chuckles, steps up behind me, and takes the hoop from my hands, placing it on the bed.
“Oscar taught me how to do it when I acted out as a teen. It was his way of showing me how to work out my anger issues. I tend to get lost in screens and tech, which inevitably makes me angrier, so this was his way of showing me how to focus without a computer. Whenever weed doesn’t help calm my mind, I get the hoop out.
” He shrugs, a smile playing on his lips.
“Lately, I’ve not been smoking as much, so I do this more. ”
I glance around and spot two more completed hoops mounted above his bed. One reads Eat Dick with an embroidered eggplant, and the other says Eat Another Dick with a little pickle stitched underneath. I burst out laughing as I look over my shoulder at him.
“I see you’re into inspiring quotes,” I tease as I lean back against him.
He chuckles, then nips at my earlobe. “Had to find something to keep myself busy while I waited for you to decide if you wanted to see me again.”
“I’m sorry.” I lean my head back against his shoulder and look up at him. “I was being a cunt.”
“You’ve got a pretty nice one, so I’ll let it slide.” He smirks, his fingers slipping under the hoodie and tracing slow circles along my hip.
Enjoying the warmth of his touch, I let myself get lost in my thoughts.
Oscar Lane showed him that when he was a teen.
The Lanes don’t seem like the kind of people who keep just anyone close without a reason. And Nicholas said his last name was Walker, not Lane.
“How do you know the Lanes?” I turn in his arms to face him. “I don’t get the connection.”
“It’s a long and not-so-nice story.” Sylus sighs, pulling back slightly.
“Sure you wanna hear it?” I nod. “I’ll give you the short version, then…
” He pauses, eyes darkening. “I grew up in a rough place. My dad was an alcoholic, and… well, let’s say abusive doesn’t cover it.
My mom couldn’t handle it, so she mostly stayed out of it, left me to deal with him.
” His hand tightens on my hips, and his jaw flexes.
“I got into fistfights a lot and started hacking when I was a teenager. It was my escape. I started off small, but then I got into some serious shit. Hacking major corporations, even the military.”
He gives a half-smile, a mix of pride and regret.
“Eventually, I got caught. And that’s where Ezra came in.
He saw something in me, I guess. Offered me an out.
Help the police instead of going to juvie.
So, I did. Spent years tracking cybercriminals, patching security gaps, things like that.
Ezra uncovered what I was dealing with at home, so he took me to Oscar’s.
Oscar had taken him in when he was a child, and the twins started living with him after their mom and sister died.
It was… a family he built from all the broken pieces. ”
His eyes soften, and there’s a small, genuine smile. “Oscar told me I was the newest addition. Took me in as if it was no big deal. And I don’t know… I went from liking them to caring to loving them. They’re my family now. They saved me.”
I feel a twinge of something, empathy, maybe, or recognition.
The way he talks about finding family in broken pieces hits close, closer than I’d like.
I haven’t experienced having someone swoop in and make life feel safe and stable, but I can imagine it.
Oscar sounds like the kind of person I might have wanted in my corner when everything fell apart, even if I’d never admit it out loud.
I love it for Sylus, though. That someone saw young him and made him feel safe.
I can’t remember ever feeling like that—safe enough to relax, grateful enough to let my guard down.
Although he’s trying to be that person for me.
Isn’t he?
“That’s…” I trail off, searching for something, anything, to say. “A lot.”
“Your turn.” He looks at me a little too optimistically. “Want to share some of your sad backstory too?”
A part of me wants to tell him. The lonely woman deep inside wants to crack herself open and let it all spill out, the same way I wanted to with Koen while shopping when I let myself believe, if only for a second, that maybe it was safe to share.
But looking at Sylus now, his hopeful, open expression, something stops me cold.
It’s not even about trust. It’s about that other kind of silence, the kind that’s grown roots around what hurts, burying it so deep I don’t know if I could ever dig it out again.
The words that threatened to bubble up dissolve before they can find their way out. “No, thank you,” I respond, keeping my tone light, and his face falls.
“All right.” He gives me a small, understanding smile and brushes a light kiss against my lips. “Let’s get you home, baby.”