Chapter 12
AREK
One month. It’s been a whole fucking month since Kylen has been back to Hush Anonymous, and quite frankly, I’m about ready to lose my fucking mind. Not just because I’m fucking horny or because Kylen is walking around without my bruises all over his body, but because I need to possess him again.
Jerking off isn’t satisfying my hunger anymore. In fact, it’s nothing but frustrating.
I’m not well-equipped for reading people or recognizing verbal cues.
It’s a very loud part of having an antisocial disorder.
I don’t understand emotion. It feels stupid to me.
To be so easily hurt by someone else’s words?
They’re just fucking words! Why get upset, angry, or even cry because of them?
The only people I’m relatively good at understanding are my siblings. Orev, obviously. His face mirrors mine—except for that stupid scar. But I understand what he thinks and feels because it’s almost always exactly what I think and feel.
Our sisters are a little less clear, but out of everyone in the world, they’re the clearest because we’ve spent our entire lives with them.
Adalaide and Rosalie were born the same day as Orev and me.
Different women carried them, but our fathers made sure that all three women birthed us on the same day.
Which, from the stories I’ve heard our family tell over the years, was a hot mess because Orev and I—identical twins—naturally had our carrier in labor before the two women with single babies in them.
The doc wasn’t happy with Dad Loren’s demand that the other two women—Rosalie’s and Adalaide’s ovens, he called them—be induced because our sisters would be born the same day as Orev and me.
In the end, Dad Loren got his way, and thus, the Van Doren quad was born. We were raised as quads. Identical. Together all the time. We shared a room until we were eight and kind of fought our parents when they suggested that maybe we were old enough for our own rooms.
They didn’t force it, of course. Our triplet uncles were forced apart often by the grandmother we’ve never known. I’m not entirely sure I even know her name. My parents would never force us.
Instead, they built onto the house we lived in, creating a large dormitory style room that would afford us more space and privacy, should we want it. We had a very large bathroom that we shared with three showers and toilet stalls.
Honestly, I miss our bedroom together. Rosalie and Adalaide live at home with our parents more often than not, but Orev has moved into the big house—something I find…
interesting. Since he only moved in once I left for Longwood U and he comes home to our house when I’m home, I haven’t truly witnessed the reason for this.
My point is, because I was with my sisters every single day for more than eighteen years, I learned to read them.
I learned what their expressions translated to.
I learned what their cries meant based on what they were crying over and the pitch in which they cried.
I learned to understand their body language.
I also learned that Rosalie’s and Adalaide’s expressions, body language, and behaviors didn’t always translate to the same things in our cousins.
Since we all grew up on the Van Doren Estate—a large 500+ acres in northern Arizona—where all of our Dad Loren’s brothers lived with their families and where Grandpa Jalon and all his brothers and families lived, Orev and I had almost two dozen people our age outside of our siblings to learn about.
Then there was the fact that Van Doren Prep, the school that Grandpa Jalon built for his family, was right there on the Estate, where we were exposed to a whole bunch of other people, and I learned that there’s an even bigger difference in understanding people from outside the Van Doren Estate than those who lived and grew up on the Estate.
Twenty-three years later, and there are days when I have no fucking idea why someone is upset over spilled milk. Literally, sometimes.
All this to say that I don’t fucking understand why Kylen might have decided not to return to Hush Anonymous.
I’ve replayed our last session together in my head no less than fifty times, and I can’t identify saying something different from what I had said the many times we were together before.
I don’t recall him becoming uncomfortable.
He didn’t want to let me go when the buzzer chimed, ending the session and indicating it was time to vacate the rooms.
So why didn’t he go back?
Growling in frustration, I get to my feet and grab my sweats from the floor. Someday, I’m going to live somewhere I can walk around naked. Clothing itches. It doesn’t itch my skin, exactly. It’s a deeper itch. Something far under my skin itches when I have to put clothes on.
Maybe it’s my hard dick’s frustration at being shoved into pants.
My clock now reads 01:37. This might be a bad idea, but at this point, I don’t care. I open my bedroom door and step into the hall. The house is silent. If there’s anyone awake, they’re likely locked in their bedrooms or on the first floor, where the common rooms are located.
My bare feet are quiet on the carpeted hallway as I head for the stairs. I know where Kylen’s room is. I’ve walked by several times, but I’ve never been inside. Hmm. I didn’t bring anything to break in if he locked the door.
I pause just outside his door and glance at the one down the hall that belongs to his sister. If I remember correctly, they share a bathroom. One that connects the two rooms.
Hand on the knob, I turn it, waiting for it to lock in place. It doesn’t, and I sigh a little in relief. Now I don’t have to go back to my room and find something to silently break into his room with.
His door is silent as I swing it open just far enough for me to slip inside. I shut it just as silently and lock it behind me.
Kylen’s room is surprisingly light. He has a fish tank in the corner, which catches my attention right away. The light is a deep blue. Maybe mimicking night underwater. There’s a neon sign on his wall that’s on. XOXO.
Interesting.
I watch Kylen sleep from where I’m standing inside the door.
When I’m convinced he’s still asleep, I wander through his room, looking at all the items on the surfaces.
When I find the bathroom door, I lock it from this side and continue my circuit until I’m standing over Kylen’s bed and him sleeping soundly.
My cock twitches eagerly. Desperately. Fucking angrily.
He inhales deeply, and it shudders out of him. His blanket stops at his chest, leaving his beautiful neck exposed. I lick my lips and turn my attention to his nightstand.
No lube on top. Eyes flickering back to him, I open the drawer and find a bottle of lube there. Okay, good.
Leaving the drawer open, I climb onto Kylen’s bed and straddle him. With my knees on either side of his hips, he’s pinned down under the blanket. His eyes snap open, and I cover his mouth with my hand.
“Why haven’t you been back?” I ask, sure he hears the frustration in my tone.
The fear in his eyes glows brightly in the dark. Then his eyebrows knit together as he recognizes me. His fear doesn’t exactly dissipate, but it lessens a little when he realizes I’m not a stranger.
Removing my hand, I lean down so my face is in his, and we’re sharing breath. “Why haven’t you been back, little kit?”
His inhale is sharp. His eyes widen. “Arek?”
I hum and slide down his body a little so I can get closer. My hand circles his neck, flexing slightly to feel the way his pulse races under my touch. His mind is racing. I can see it flicker across his face as he connects the dots.
My hand slides up his neck to cup the side of his face, thumb tracing his lips, jaw, and trachea.
“Oh my god,” he whispers. “It was you?”
I can’t decide if he’s disappointed. Surprised, yes.
This is one of the few moments in my life where I feel that my antisocial disorder cripples me because I don’t know what he’s feeling.
Even as I study his face closely, so I don’t miss a thing.
I see all his emotions dance across his face and flash in his eyes like a strobe as they change rapidly. But I don’t know what it means.
“Of course, it was me. Why did you stop going, little kit?”
Kylen whimpers. A sound I’m familiar with. A sound that sings to my blood and makes my cock throb.
“Why?” I insist.
“I—” he shivers under me and wiggles. Trying to get his arms loose.
Reluctantly, I shift my weight off him and shove the blankets down so they’re no longer separating us. His hands come out and wrap around my neck, slide up into my hair, and he yanks me down. Our mouths collide, and I grunt in pleasure as I slide my body down so I’m lying on top of him.
I hate the clothes between us. Immediately, I begin tearing them from his body and shoving my pants off. His legs spread for me as soon as we’re free, and the heat of his skin, the hard length of his cock against mine, has my entire body burning with need.
My mouth trails down his jaw toward his ear. Kylen leans his head back, exposing his neck to me as he moans quietly. “Why did you stop going, little kit?” I repeat.
“I was scared,” he whispers. “The man in the dark… You were stalking me.”
Okay, he’s not wrong. I suppose that’s not what a sane person would do.
“Did I hurt you?”
Kylen shakes his head adamantly. “No. Not at all.”
“I need to breed you, Kylen Whitaker. I need you to wear my bruises again, or I’m going to lose my fucking mind.”
The whine in his throat feels like fingers trailing down my spine and squeezing my balls. “Yes,” he breathes.
“Breeding means no condoms.”
He inhales again.
“We’re not at Hush now. That means I don’t need to follow their rules.”
His unease is loud as I wait for his answer. I’m distracted by the way his hands move over my back, my ribs, down to the top of my ass, but not venturing further south. His legs lay wide open for me, giving me complete access to his body.
His trust. I have his trust. Even telling him I want to fill him with my load hasn’t taken away that trust.
Honestly, it’s fortunate for him that I have enough presence of mind to even have this bit of conversation. I’m thrumming with need for this man who’s run from me for a month. He didn’t know it was me, but he was still running from me.
“I don’t—”
“What if I’m not giving you a choice, kit?” I interrupt. I’m not sure what I’ll do if he doesn’t agree. Part of me doesn’t give a fuck if he doesn’t agree. A very, very loud part of me. That part that I have a hard time controlling, beyond giving in to what it demands.
Kylen’s Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows thickly. I lick along his throat, sucking lightly before I sink my teeth into his soft flesh. His body jerks under me, his fingers dig into my back. “Yes…” he whimpers. “Please, A-Arek.”
My name on his lips is far more intoxicating than it has any right to be.
I reach blindly for the open drawer in his nightstand to find the lube and adjust my weight on him so I can reach his tight little hole to stretch him for me.
I take his mouth back in mine while I do, swallowing all the delicious sounds that I’ve been deprived of for the past month.
Drinking in how responsive his body is to my fingers in his ass as I rush through stretching and lubing him.
I’m not sure if he’s actually consented to no condom. I don’t even care. I’m going to interpret his last yes as consent as I slather my cock in lube and guide my cockhead to his hole before wrapping him securely in my arms, just the way he likes to be held when I first enter his body.
I slip inside with what feels like a pop, and Kylen jerks. He gasps into my mouth, breaking our kiss entirely as he pants. I lick along his jaw until my mouth is at his ear.
“Relax, little kit,” I murmur. “Kylen.”
He moans sweetly, body shivering around me as his arms tighten.
“I’ve missed your body. The sounds you make. The way you cling to me. Did you miss me?”
Kylen nods, and a loud, possessive growl rumbles in my stomach when he answers affirmatively.
I’m a little rougher than I usually am at first. It’s been too long. I’ve been losing my mind as I waited for him to go back to Hush Anonymous.
“This hole. Who does it belong to? Who gets to be inside it, Kylen?”
“You,” he answers, voice whiny as his body tenses. “You’re too big tonight.”
That means I did a shit job of readying him. I try like fuck to slow down. To ease inside him. Telling me I’m too big might as well be him telling me I’m hurting him. I stop entirely and close my eyes.
“Don’t you fucking stay away from me again, Kylen,” I growl in his ear. “Do you understand me? I need you as much as you need me.”
He nods, and I’m surprised when his legs wrap around my waist, ankles locking behind me. “Make me feel good,” he whispers.
I suck his neck as a rush of need has my hips jerking. He gasps loudly, and I force myself to stay still again. Then I do exactly what Kylen likes. I talk to him about how he feels around me. How I own his body and soul. How I’ll kill anyone who touches him.
Kylen loses himself in my words, his body relaxing as I continue to talk to him, and I rhythmically, gently, rock my way into his body. He likes to be distracted at first. He likes to hear me talk. He likes to be the center of my attention.
I’m not sure either of us is truly conscious of the transition between working my dick into his compact body and me thrusting in him until we’re both moaning.
I’m too focused on spilling every obsessive thought, and he’s enthralled with my words.
But when his pleasure is announced by his high, throaty moan, I think we both become aware of graduation into fucking.
Time to acquaint his body with being properly bred. There will never be a night when he doesn’t go to sleep with my load fresh in his body going forward. Kylen Whitaker is fucking mine, and he’s about to learn exactly what that means.