Chapter 24 Vaughn
VAUGHN
Ishould be working out.
Or running.
Or swimming.
That’s what I do every day in the early morning.
Not today, though, because I’m apparently being used like a mattress.
Yulian lies sprawled all over me, his heavy body flattening me, his face buried in my neck. His arms are locked around my waist, and our legs are tangled, skin against skin.
He didn’t let me put boxers on, which I’m still struggling with because I don’t sleep naked.
Obviously, I did last night, and now I can feel his semi-hard cock pressing against mine, waking it up from slumber.
It should be blasphemous that I get these raging boners around Yulian on the regular. And while I can’t find an explanation for it, I know for a fact what my body wants.
Yulian.
At all times.
Beneath me. On top of me. In all fucking positions available.
A rush of pleasure trickles down my spine at the memory of my cock ramming into him as I held him against the bathroom wall, his legs wrapped around my waist. I was rough, and he loved it, asking for more and kissing me senseless, demanding I go harder.
I’ve never fucked that rough, always vying for mild and acceptable. Truly, I don’t want to hurt others just because I have those deviant preferences. So the fact that Yulian embraced that side of me, even demanding more, turned me absolutely feral.
A sexual animal through and through who’s unable to detach from him.
I let him bend me over the tub and fuck me as hard as he wanted, and I moaned and groaned, and made all the wanton noises I didn’t think I was capable of.
Yulian was messing around the whole night, giving me oral and teaching me how to do certain things. It was extremely informative, more so than the amateur porn and Reddit threads I studied for educational purposes.
He said I’m a fast learner when, after he fucked me, I sucked the cum off his cock.
Pretty sure I have some sort of oral fixation for Yulian’s cum, because I wanted to suck him dry like he did to me, but I didn’t really get the chance.
We went at it until all the chaos in the house died down. I remember Yulian carrying me to bed as I half fell asleep in the tub.
Not sure why I even did that when I never fall asleep in bathtubs. Don’t actually like them either, to be honest, and prefer quick showers.
Falling asleep in one is dangerous, but I guess I trusted that Yulian was there for me. Not that I should correlate the word trust with Yulian, but still.
I was in that phase between sleep and wakefulness when I felt him drop a soft kiss to my lips and wrap himself all over me like an octopus.
His sigh reverberated against my chest as he whispered, “You can never escape me now, Mishka.”
Sometime in the middle of the night, he crawled on top of me, and now, I have a huge, heavy guy who’s made of muscle crushing me.
But I don’t mind.
I kind of like that I can take him on.
Problem is, I can’t move, or, more like, I don’t want to ruin his peace. He was shivering slightly a few hours ago, his brows drawn together, probably in the throes of a nightmare. I stroked his back through it, feeling the tension of whatever he was going through.
I wanted to reach into his subconscious and remove whatever was bothering him.
Yulian is extremely easygoing and can be so unserious that it drives me up the wall, but he also has scars and priorities and has to survive an abusive dad.
Not sure how I can make it better or if I should even be thinking about that just because he gave me the best sex of my life.
It’s just sex.
Yulian and I will always be worlds apart in every other aspect. Not to mention, we have extremely different empires we’re set to inherit.
And yet…
I turn my head, watching him sleep—his lips parted, his mouth grazing my throat, not quite kissing me but close enough, a trace of drool wetting my skin. And it pisses me off that I don’t find it disgusting.
If anything, my cock stirs at the feel of his mouth, his body, his length pressed to mine.
I don’t really care that I’m sore, and he must be, too. Not sure if we were supposed to go back-to-back like that for our first time, but I guess I couldn’t have stopped it even if I’d wanted to.
My phone vibrates on the nightstand, pulling my attention away from ogling Yulian’s sleepy face.
Trying my best not to move too much, I reach out for it, and I pause when I see Lidya’s text reminding me to attend her boxing match today.
Right.
I need to go back to the States.
And yet a deep sense of reluctance spreads through me.
I’ve always used the inevitability of my flights back home as an opportunity to run away and, most importantly, to put some distance between me and this fatal attraction to Yulian, to think, and to come up with better solutions.
But now, I can’t bear the thought of separating from this mass of muscles and warmth.
Though I probably should.
I got the sex out of my system, so this shouldn’t be hard.
Actually, no, I didn’t get it out of my system.
If anything, the first taste just made me hungry for more.
I feel like I’ve been missing out on the great pleasures of life that manifest in Yulian’s beautiful body.
Despite the scars, he’s human perfection. Bulging abs, tapered waist, and long, muscular legs that go on for miles.
He’s what marble statues wish to achieve, and I hate—absolutely despise—the idea that others can see this side of him, too.
Maybe that irrational kidnapping idea I had last night wasn’t so bad after all…
The door clicks open, and I tense. Yulian said no one is allowed in his room if he doesn’t invite them over, so who the hell—
My jaw tightens the second Cyrus strolls in like he owns the room, his gaze locking with mine, flat and unmoving.
He’s always had a way of setting me off. Not sure if it’s about his appearance, his expression, or the way he carries himself. Maybe all three.
Actually, it’s because he’s always lurking beside Yulian like an annoying shadow.
I watch him closely for the first time since the camp.
His hair is a pale platinum blond, still damp from a shower, strands falling too neatly across his forehead.
His face is sharp, all cut-glass cheekbones and a mouth that looks like it’s forgotten how to hold an honest expression.
His eyes are the strangest part—East Asian in shape but a shade of gray so pale, they look drained of life, almost metallic.
And then there’s this curious scar, a thin line dragging just above and below the corner of his lips, old but surgical, like someone wanted to mark him permanently.
I wonder what happened there.
No amount of digging from my part has produced anything about Cyrus’s past. He’s still a dangerous variable with unknown origins.
His gaze lingers on the tangle of limbs—Yulian draped over me like I’m his personal bed. My hand tightens around Yulian’s back, possessiveness flooding my veins as I glare at Cyrus, the silent warning clear—back off.
I’m glad Yulian is covered, because I’d blind Cyrus for seeing him naked—which he probably has over the years, so maybe I should blind him anyway.
He arches a brow but stays silent, studying the scene with the cool precision of a sniper gauging distance. His stare holds no malice, only cold calculation.
Cyrus has always known Yulian, been by his side forever, and I hate him for it.
I just don’t like it. Don’t care if that makes me sound irrational.
He motions outside with his thumb, probably wanting a word, then disappears, leaving the door ajar.
The last thing I want is a talk with Cyrus, and I certainly don’t want to leave Yulian when I’m feeling slightly territorial and confrontational today.
But I have to go while it’s still early.
I disengage Yulian’s fingers from around me, and he releases a long whine, holding on to me tighter.
Fuck, he’s adorably clingy.
I pull his hand away and slip out of the bed as silently as possible, already feeling a sense of emptiness without his weight on me.
My clothes are all over the floor—something else I’d never do except when Yulian is around—and I put them on in record time before I head to the exit.
I stop with my hand on the doorknob and take one final look at Yulian’s sleeping body, a sense of unease settling in the bottom of my stomach as I walk out and silently close the door behind me.
Cyrus is standing next to the room, arms and ankles crossed, his expression calm and as unreadable as always. I suppose it mirrors mine, in a sense.
“You need to leave before the rest wake up,” he says with no emotion whatsoever.
I nod. Yesterday, I managed to gain access by sneaking in with delivery people, so being found out today would be a disaster.
“Follow me. I’ll get you through the back entrance.” He starts walking, not waiting to see whether or not I take him up on the offer.
I fall in step beside him as we walk in silence through the wallpapered hallways and the general mess from last night.
“Did you know I was here?” I ask as we cut down a long hall, my voice low but firm.
He throws me a fleeting glance. “Why would you assume that?”
“You didn’t look surprised when you walked in.”
“I walk in on Yulian fucking all the time. It’s no big deal.”
My jaw grinds, but I keep my cool. “You said that on purpose.”
“On purpose?”
“You want me to believe I’m one of Yulian’s many conquests and that I shouldn’t feel special.”
He stares at me, raising a brow. “Do you want to feel special?”
“What happens between us is none of your business.”
“Considering that I’m the one protecting him from his father, who’ll cut his head off if he knows he’s sleeping with men, I’d say it’s very much my business.”
I swallow.
Yes, of course Yaroslav would be against Yulian’s sexuality. He seems to be against Yulian in the first place, so something like this would probably be much worse.
“I just don’t understand something.” Cyrus stops and faces me, making me do the same.
“Which is?”
“Yulian is impulsive, wears his heart on his sleeve, and goes after what he wants headfirst. He seldom thinks of consequences and has serious risk-aversion issues, but you’re not like him, so help me understand why the fuck you’re indulging him?”
I purse my lips, because, again, I despise how well Cyrus knows Yulian. The fact that someone out there is more familiar with him than I am makes me see red.
Wait a minute.
Is Cyrus perhaps the guy that awakened Yulian’s attraction to men…?
No, that can’t be right. Otherwise, they’d be together.
Besides, what are the chances of Cyrus also being gay or bi?
Slim to none.
Not impossible, though.
Now I’m recalling how Niko insisted that Cyrus is queer at the camp, and my eye twitches.
He stares at me harder when I don’t reply to his question.
“What I do to Yulian is up to me,” I say calmly. “Whether I indulge him, use him, or ruin him completely is not something that you or anyone else can stop.”
“You’re baiting him.” He narrows his eyes. “You might think it’s just harmless fun or mindless sex, but for him, it has an entirely different meaning, especially since…”
He trails off, and it’s my turn to frown. “Especially since what?”
“I know exactly what you’re doing.” He ignores my question.
“You’re using him for your sexual awakening or experimental phase or whatever, but then you’ll leave, exactly like you’ve been doing all this time, and maybe you think he’s your booty call or sex doll, but have you thought of why he approached you again after four whole years? ”
I can recognize a mental warfare tactic when I see one, and Cyrus is definitely indulging in that at the moment. Ever since he came into the room, he’s been provoking me, hoping for what? A reaction?
Why?
I suppose he probably despises me as much as I do him, but still, there’s no need for him to be this defensive.
“If you intended to tell me, you would’ve already.” I raise a brow. “I suppose that was only meant to keep me guessing?”
“Do you believe it was a coincidence that Yulian was in that New York restaurant, at the same time you were, in a city he has absolutely no links to?”
My jaw clenches. “I suppose not.”
“You suppose right. You see”—he slides a hand in his pocket and sounds detached—“Yulian only joined this university because Jeremy, Killian, and Gareth did, so he assumed you’d follow once it was time for college. Only, you didn’t, probably because he was here.”
I narrow my eyes.
“What? I know you were avoiding him as much as he was searching for the merest hint of you.” He pauses, raising a brow.
“At any rate, he planned the whole restaurant thing, including sleeping with your girlfriend, not only to get rid of her, fully aware of your aversion to disloyalty, but also to provoke you, so you’d have a grudge against him and come to this college to fix it. ”
“And?” I say, sounding unimpressed. “I’m conscious of his attempts. Is there a point you’re trying to reach?”
“He had a reason for doing all of that.”
“Which is…”
“Revenge.”
“Revenge for what?”
“You betrayed him once, Vaughn, and he never forgot about it.”
“Betrayed him?” I repeat incredulously. “Me?”
He says nothing.
“What the hell are you talking about, Cyrus? When on earth did I betray him?”
“You’ll have to figure that out yourself.” He points down the hall. “Exit’s that way. And for the love of God, don’t ever show up here again. That is, if you don’t want him to be killed by his father. Though I don’t believe you care about the prospect.”
What the fuck is that supposed to mean?
Cyrus is baiting me, it seems, or just doing everything under the sun to piss me off.
And because he wants a reaction, I give him none as I start to walk.
“And, Vaughn?”
I stare back at him over my shoulder to be greeted with the gun he’s pointing at me. “You’re wrong. You can’t use or ruin him. If you hurt him this time…”
He pulls the trigger, the bullet hitting a painting a few inches away from my face.
“That bullet will be in your head,” he says as he turns around and leaves, gun in hand.
I glare at his back, not because of the threatening stunt, but what he said about betrayal and revenge.
If you hurt him this time?
When the fuck did I hurt Yulian the last time? If anything, it’s because of him that I—
No. I’m not thinking about that.
My jaw grinds as the most pertinent thought punctures the surface.
Revenge.
Cyrus said Yulian only approached me for revenge. It’s why he slept with Danika and has been pursuing me so closely and persistently.
Revenge.
Fucking revenge?
My chest squeezes as my whole body that’s been captured in bliss since last night tenses, all pleasure replaced with pain and dread.
But it’s fine because it was only sex.
And sex doesn’t mean anything.
At all.