Chapter 8
DAMIAN
Sitting through my next class was unbearable. Even after smoking a blunt with Luca, I still couldn’t get my head on straight. Adrenaline flooded my veins like a shot of heroin working through my system.
He knew the drill.
Whenever I had urges, he fed my demons. We couldn’t have people see me lose control, so he did whatever was necessary to help me.
I got an instant response from Bash and slid out of my chair, shoving the phone into my pocket. The teacher knew better than to ask where I was going when I left in the middle of class.
When we first started school at Astor Prep, the teachers tried to control us. But one call from our father to the headmaster squashed that shit real quick. Losing our family’s money would be detrimental to this institution.
I power-walked down the hallway and rushed into the faculty bathroom. My hands trembled so badly I could barely flick open the button of my pants. Bastian entered the room seconds later with the same needy look in his eyes.
I tipped my head at the door.
He locked it and approached me as I whipped out my cock. “I can’t stop thinking about her.”
“Same,” he agreed, breathing harder. “I’m popping her fucking cherry. I don’t care if Luca has a problem with it.”
Stroking my shaft, I focused on his mouth and how his lips parted for me. I reached out and put his hand around my dick. “This is for you, too, Bash. Not just Alex.”
He closed his eyes and jerked my dick harder, leaning forward to put his hand on the wall behind my head.
“Sometimes, I really hate you, D.” His face burrowed into the crook of my neck with each stroke, his long fingers sliding up to the tip dripping with pre-cum. “But I can’t fucking live without you.”
We had a trauma bond, as the therapist called it. He said our parents’ deaths formed an unbreakable bond that made us codependent on each other. I didn’t know how to be with a woman without him involved.
I needed him.
We needed each other.
While he ripped a grunt from my throat, I unzipped his pants and jerked his dick as hard as he was yanking on mine. Like he wanted to break it. But fuck, I didn’t care what he did because it felt good. And I wanted to cum all over his hand.
My lips pressed against his earlobe before I sucked it into my mouth. His guttural groan pierced my eardrum. I loved the sounds Bash made when he was about to come. They made me feral, and before I knew what I was doing, I was on my knees in front of him.
He tried to push my head away, but I fisted his dick and sucked him into my mouth.
“Fuck, D,” he moaned, his hand falling to the back of my head. “I hate you so fucking much right now. Why do you do this to me?”
His words didn’t bother me. I was used to Bastian denying how he felt. It was his shame talking.
“You’re so good at that,” he whispered, gripping the ends of my short hair tighter. “Fuck. Why do you have to make me like this?”
I shoved down his pants and boxers without losing momentum. They lowered to the ground around his ankles, and now I had a better look at him. His dick was perfect. Thick, long, and big enough to fit in my mouth.
Squeezing his ass, I deep-throated his dick, taking him all the way down.
“Goddamn,” he grunted, tugging so hard on my hair he could pull it from my scalp. “Fuck, Damian. Suck my cock like a good boy.”
I swiped some of the pre-cum from my tip and used it to lubricate my finger. Bastian fell forward when I plunged my finger into his ass and worked the tight channel I’d been begging to fuck for the past two years. He liked it when I did this, even though he denied me sex.
“Holy shit,” he moaned. “Fuck, that feels…”
You can say it, Bash.
He couldn’t even get out the words, nearly breathless, as I pumped my finger into his ass and sucked the cum from his dick.
This all started when we were sixteen, and I was out of my mind with bloodlust. I killed someone for my father and lost control. There was so much blood that it looked like a massacre. I had blood all over my face, skin, and clothes, the floor and walls painted crimson.
I almost hurt Bastian until he took out my dick and made me come. Because of him, I didn’t kill anyone else that night. We went home, got into the shower, and he sucked my dick for the first time.
Then I sucked his.
It was one of the best nights of my life, but probably not his. Because that was the night he started hating himself.
And it was all my fault.
Bastian’s legs shook, and his grunts quickly turned to sexy moans. His warmth spilled into my mouth, and I swallowed his cum, licking my lips to get every drop.
“Jesus,” Bastian hissed, his fingers sliding through his dark caramel hair to push it out of his eyes. “No one sucks my dick like you do.”
I rose from the ground, still hard and needing a release. So I took his hand and wrapped it around my shaft. His hand glided up and down my skin in a rhythmic motion.
“I need to feel your mouth on me, Bash.” I licked his lips so he could taste himself. “Make this go away.”
I always took care of him first. When I did, he didn’t think as much about his hatred for himself and his feelings for me. But he would have to cut out my black heart to make me stop wanting him.
I’d been getting better at knowing my limits over the years. So I could sense when the urges resurfaced, and I usually found Bastian in time.
Bash licked the taste of his cum from his bottom lip. For a split second, our eyes met, and I thought he might kiss me. I tried so many times with him. But he insisted on no kissing or fucking.
Kissing a man would make him gay. But sucking my dick was a gray area for him. Whatever floats his boat. As long as this never ended, I didn’t care. He could label us with whatever he wanted.
Bi.
Gay.
Straight.
Don’t care.
I flattened my tongue against his cheek and licked up to the skin beneath his eye. “I need you.”
The crazier shit I did, the more it lowered his guard. Bastian gave me a hesitant look before getting on his knees and fisting my shaft. I knew how to work him over until I got what I wanted. And he was good at manipulating me, too.
“Suck on your fingers,” I told him.
He did as I requested, staring up at me with those big, gray eyes, and then shoved two wet fingers into my ass. “Is this what you want, you crazy fuck?”
His fingers worked my tight hole, and even though it burned, I didn’t care. It felt so fucking good.
I nodded and slid the tip of my cock across his lips. “I want to paint your tongue with my cum.”
Shaking his head, he sighed. “How did we get here, Damian?”
He wished he could stop.
But he couldn’t.
“It didn’t take much convincing,” I pointed out, my voice muffled as he fucked my ass with his fingers. “You love my dick. So suck it and stop playing games.”
It was the truth.
He told me plenty of times in the heat of the moment that he loved my dick in his mouth. Loved how I made him feel.
And I knew this to be true when he licked playfully up and down my shaft before my cock disappeared into his mouth. My fingers slipped through his hair. It was a few inches longer than mine, which I liked. This way, I could pull harder whenever he tortured me with his mouth.
He looked up at me, holding my gaze, with his cheeks puffed out from fitting all of me. Running my fingers through his hair, I took in the feel of his soft locks and the scent of bergamot in his cologne.
I loved everything about him. How he smelled, tasted, and looked. Bastian was perfect in every way. And he was always there for me. He protected me. And sometimes, he had to save me from myself.
With two fingers in my ass and the warmth of his mouth driving me fucking crazy, I came hard and fast. He pulled back after I filled his mouth with cum and opened up for me. I got off on seeing my cum on his tongue and smiled. Bastian knew all the ways to please me.
“You look fucking hot with my cum in your mouth.” I ran my thumb across his lip. “I wish you’d fuck me.”
He rolled his eyes and swallowed, pulling away from me. “Stop with that shit, would ya?” Bastian rose from the floor and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, turning his head toward the door. “I’m not fucking you.”
“How is it any different from anal with a woman?” I tucked my dick into my pants and cupped his shoulder, forcing him to look at me. “I bet you think of me while you’re fucking them in the ass. Don’t you? I can see the look in your eyes. Your focus is on me, not them.”
“It’s not the same.” He walked over to the sink and washed his hands, scrubbing so hard his skin could crack open. “And you know it, D.”
“Actually, no, I don’t.” I moved to the sink beside him and lathered my hands with soap. “Because you won’t let me find out.”
“Never will.” He grabbed paper towels and dried his hands. “So get the thought out of your mind.”
“You know it will feel good.” I turned off the sink and took the extra towel from his hand. “So what’s the problem?”
He scoffed. “We’re already crossing enough lines.
The two of us may not be blood-related, but we are brothers.
We are Salvatores. Can you imagine what kind of shame we’d bring to our family if anyone ever found out about us?
” Bastian shook his head, disgusted with himself.
“The Founders Society would never accept us, and Dad would hate us for it.”
“Luca and Marcello already know,” I said because he seemed to need a reminder that our little secret was not so secret anymore. “And if Dad knows, I doubt he cares.”
“The answer is no,” Bastian snapped, taking one last look in the mirror before unlocking the door and leaving without another word.