Chapter 3
CHAPTER THREE
OREN
Sitting on the couch with my feet tucked on the cushions, a threaded blanket was draped over me as I flipped through the folders we’d shown Simon and Liam two days ago.
While I was excited to get started with this endeavor, lingering nerves remained that I hadn’t shared with Thorne. I was excited to paint over the stain of my father with something beautiful, but to throw myself back into danger—a danger neither of us had faced before?
Almost a year and a half had passed since the death of General Andrew Valens, and much of that fateful day remained as trauma for us, hovering like a ghost in the tainted hallways of our home.
It was an incessant disease, and despite the cheeriness of my timbre and the radiance I poured into Thorne, that pain still hovered heavily.
Which is why I agreed to his idea: to right my lineage and what my father had done to him for so long.
His influence ran thick, and while his death had helped us escape that horrible place, it didn’t end the treachery he’d caused.
There was much left to uncover, the roots of his evil sinking deeper than either of us had thought.
It wasn’t technically our responsibility to fix, but with the government and police unwilling to help uncover his tracks, there was nothing left to do but take it into our own hands.
With another turn, innocence greeted me, that familiar nausea rolling in my stomach at the look on their faces. They were all so young, and knowing my father did this willingly? Kidnapped kids as young as three and thrust them into a life they didn’t choose?
Tears threatened to escape my waterline as I memorized each one of their faces, the grime covering their skin only the beginning of their terror. It wasn’t fair, and my jaw clenched at the injustice—the cruelty of life stealing their spark.
Adjusting my elbow on the armrest, a fluffball of dimmed orange jumped onto the couch, tongue sticking out of his mouth as a resounding bark echoed.
“Prince, I’m busy,” I huffed, scratching his chin despite the irritation in my voice. “You know, you’re too cute, so you get spoiled. Highly unfair for someone as small as you.”
Fingers threaded through my hair, a softened chuckle rolling forward. “That’s wholly ironic coming from you, dove.”
Leaning into his touch, my shoulders instantly relaxed as I smiled. “Are you suggesting I’m equally cute?”
“Cute? Never.”
He walked around the couch with a sluggish pace, unhurried. Planting a hand beside my head, he curled his fingers around the leather and leaned in. With a gentle brush of his lips on my throat, he finally elected to speak.
“Handsome?” Kiss. “Breathtaking?” Kiss. “Beautiful?” Kiss. “An absolute menace who has become my undeniable downfall?” Kiss.
A soft groan left me as I angled my head back. “Mhm… You’re equally a curse and a blessing, baby.”
His huffed laugh caressed my skin, urging forward a slew of goosebumps. “I’m more than aware.”
Wrapping my arms around his neck, the manila folders and papers scattered to the carpet. Prince followed, barking his happy ass away as he scurried to another part of the house. I couldn’t help but laugh at the unexpected chaos. It aided my haste to pull him closer.
He nipped at my ear, a low growl escaping him. “You’re making a mess, Oren Graves.”
At the use of his last name paired with mine, a shiver coursed through me.
I was grateful for the blanket concealing what else had responded to his statement as I pressed my lips to his jaw.
Stubble greeted me, the rough texture spiking heat through my core as I played with the curled ends of his hair.
“It’s a good thing you enjoy cleaning.”
“That I do,” he whispered before trailing his tongue from my lobe and down my neck. Peppering a few more kisses there, a lengthened groan followed. “God, you drive me mad.”
“Me? What do you think you do?” Yanking his head back, I nipped at his throat. “You drive me fucking wild. My delightful, submissive, handsome fiancé.”
An instinctive moan bloomed to life from the center of his chest. “Fuck, Oren.”
“Yes, fuck, because I want you. I want to shove my cock inside your ass because you’ll take it like my good bitch.”
He huffed, his tongue darting out to trail along his lips. “Yes, I will, and I’d be a lying man if I tried to claim I wasn’t unbearably hard for you right now.”
Running my hands along his back, I dropped them to his waist. Hooking my thumbs beneath his black sweatpants, I yanked with a fluidity that exposed him entirely. Saliva pooled in my mouth like it always did when I witnessed him hard, his piercing covered in a thin layer of pre-cum.
Grabbing the hem of his t-shirt, I pulled twice on the fabric. “I want this off.”
He wasted no time tugging the material up and over his head to expose his inked skin. I had fallen in love with each of the pieces for different reasons, but even after memorizing them, I continued to find something new in them—in him—to admire every single time.
Moving closer to him, the blanket tangled around my legs, stopping my momentum. Huffing, I shoved the material away, kicking my feet to wiggle myself from its hold.
“This stupid fucking…” I muttered under my breath, desperately using my fingers to remove it.
Great, Oren. Just great and super attractive to be clumsy.
Looking down at me, his lips curled into a grin. “Do you… need help?”
“No! I’ve got it. I’ve got it.”
Do I?
This… thing had glue on it or something. Opting to bring it to the floor in haste, it slapped on top of the splayed documents as I scooted back from its death grip.
Thorne laughed, watching me intently. “Leave it to you to get tangled in a blanket.”
“Oh, shush. It stuck to me, I swear.”
Without waiting for his reply, I wrapped my fingers around the nape of his neck and hauled him onto the couch. Wiggling myself from underneath, I wasted no time in discarding my clothes. Once clad in nothing but skin, I pressed my palm against his chest to lower him onto the cushions.
Stroking my length, I swiped my tongue across my bottom lip. “I’ll always enjoy seeing you beneath me, cock begging for my touch.”
A light heat brushed his cheeks. It was a sight I’d never tire of, seeing a man like him obedient to my very word.
“S-Shit.”
“Spread your legs.”
Sitting on my haunches, I smirked at the effect of my words. That red hue deepened because, despite his outward persona, there was nothing this man loved more than being controlled.
He obliged, legs parting for me as his golden irises met mine. His throat bobbed once, and that’s when his mask dropped, his submissiveness rolling forward like a wave.
Hovering over his frame, my hand pressed against the cold leather as I angled myself at his entrance. Pressing my crown against him, I glanced at those honeyed eyes before leaning over to spit where I made contact with his skin.
Saliva dripped over his hole and my length, the sight only spurring me on as I used that wetness to glide myself in. Inch by inch, I entered him, taking my time. There was nothing I enjoyed more than watching his eyes roll back as pleasure took over his senses.
Lips parting for a breath, a moan joined in. “S-Shit… Fuck, dove.”
Grunting, I rolled my hips forward and completely buried myself. “God, no matter how many times I fuck you, you’re always so tight.”
His legs curled around me, arms wasting no time to loop around my neck. Kissing up my jawline, another sharpened exhale tumbled from him as I thrust into him again.
“God, you feel so fucking good. Fuck.”
Finding my rhythm, I rammed into him mercilessly as I straightened, switching my hand from the couch to his throat. Squeezing, I used it as my perch as I bucked my hips.
His hands slipped, greeting my bare back. Digging his nails into my flesh, he arched for me—a clear giveaway of his climb toward euphoria. It only made me tighten my hold, riding that bliss with every intention of stealing the oxygen from his lungs.
“I want your marks, Graves. I want to be coated in crimson while I devour all that dominance you display toward others. But here? You know you’re mine.”
A strangled grunt followed my statement. Lids fluttering, he struggled to hold my gaze, his blown-out pupils barely noticeable beneath his dark lashes. Beginning his exploration, he dragged his fingers across my skin, his grip intensifying as he carved through the first few layers.
Hissing at the intensifying pain, I responded with an angled thrust I knew would press against his prostate. My other hand curled around his hardened length, pumping roughly to elicit another muffled noise of desperation.
“Fuck,” he rasped, hips bucking to chase my touch.
“Look at you matching my pace while you dirty my hand.”
Stopping at the tip, I pulled on his piercing with just the right amount of force I knew would have him panting. His whimper served as my sign of approval, pre-cum trickling across my fingertips.
It was a sound of pain, but I knew him too well—he craved it, just like he indulged in the dominance I subdued him with.
Stroking his shaft once more, a blur of orange blocked my view of Thorne. Barking menacingly, he sat on Thorne’s chest in a protective stance, and I had never wanted to punt a dog more in my life.
“Prince! Goddamn it, get down!”
Laughter echoed from behind the non-threatening loaf, Thorne snorting over the interruption of our heated moment. “Oh my fucking God. This is fucking hilarious.”
“Hilarious? He’s literally cock blocking me. A dog!”
“You’re hurting me,” he teased. “He’s doing his job, Daddy.”
Slowly unwrapping my fingers from his cock, I wiggled them at Prince. “Look, Thorne is fine. Not hurt, so find a bone to play with, Princey Prince. If you do, I’ll give you a treat.”
His little ears raised, pink tongue darting out as he panted in delight. Standing on all four paws, his tail swished against Thorne’s face, who groaned. “Prince, this isn’t the asshole I want near my face.”
It was my turn to laugh as I watched the altercation for a few more seconds before lightly tapping him on the butt. He jumped, landing on the blanket before scurrying to the kitchen. At least the dumb dog was smart enough to know where to wait for it.
“Okay, so back to—”
And then he started barking.
“Oh. My. God.”
“You said treat,” Thorne prompted, waving over his shoulder and the back of the couch. “Surprisingly enough, your dumbass dog seems to know that word very—”
Another bark.
Mercy.
Running my hand down my face, a saddened smile crept onto my face. “Well, this isn’t how I wanted it to go, but the children require treats.”
I slipped out of him, a shudder rocking his frame as he slowly pushed himself upright. Pinching my side, he offered me that lethal smirk, one that spoke of continued need and interest. “I’ll meet you upstairs?”
Grinning, I dipped my chin. “Press your knees to your chest and wait like that. I want to ram my cock inside you until you cum.”
“Yes, sir.”
With one last glance at him, I headed to the mischievous, conniving little shits. The faster they got their treats, the faster I could have mine.
And damn, did I want that treat sliding down my throat.