Chapter 12 Allegra #2
That is so the wrong thing to say and he knows it. “Cassian, that’s not what he means. He…” I don’t get a chance to finish, though. I expect Cassian to lunge at Jet, grab him by the throat, throttle him. Aggression is rolling off him, the air is taut with it, crackling with energy.
“You want her.” Cassian says to Jet. “But she is not for you. I thought I made that clear.”
Jet doesn’t deny it and I turn to look at him and I know, don’t I, that it’s true? I know and when I look at Jet, his want is written on his face.
Cassian snorts, jerks me toward himself so I’m facing him.
“You look at me, Little Moth. You keep your eyes on me, not him,” he says, unbuttoning the shirt I’m wearing.
It’s one of his, an oversized shirt. I’m not sure why I did it, but I like having it on me.
When he’s not with me, it’s the closest I can get to him, and I like having his smell on me.
Cassian notices. He doesn’t miss a thing.
When the buttons are undone, he pushes it off my shoulders, but I stop him.
“What are you doing?”
“Showing him who you belong to. And maybe I’m showing you too,” Cassian says and pushes the shirt off my shoulders.
It slips to the floor so I’m standing barefoot and in my underwear.
I set one arm over my breasts as he turns me to face Jet.
“I’m showing the both of you. Once and for all,” he says, hooking his fingers into my panties and pushing them off.
I remain motionless as soft cotton tickles my legs and then they’re gone and I’m naked. Naked between these two men. Stepbrothers. Best of friends. Worst of enemies.
I lick my lips. “Cassian,” I start, but I’m not sure what I want to say.
“Quiet,” Cassian commands, sliding a hand between my legs, weaving it through the neat triangle of hair. “She’s something to look at, isn’t she?” he asks, fingers circling my clit. “Beautiful.”
I swallow.
“You want to look, don’t you?” he asks, but Jet holds his gaze, refusing to. “You want more than to look.”
Jet looks at me, that green gone deep, dark.
A forest in the night. My heart races as his gaze hovers on mine as if he’s waiting for me to tell him to stop.
To tell him no. I don’t utter a sound, though.
I can’t, and soon his gaze moves slowly, purposefully over me, my breasts, which I realize are now exposed to him because at some point in the last few moments, I shifted one hand to Cassian’s forearm, the other hangs at my side.
Jet’s gaze moves lower, lower to where Cassian is playing with me.
I look down too, see how slick his fingers are, and I swear I can smell my own arousal.
“Cassian,” I start, unsure what I’m going to say.
Cassian bends his head to my ear, lifts my hair to set it over my shoulder and breaths me in. He brings his lips to the softest curve of my neck and brushes what’s become a beard over it, the short hairs tickling it before he kisses the place where my pulse throbs betraying my frantic heartbeats.
“Do you smell her?” Cassian asks, his breath warm as he looks at Jet. “Breathe her in. It’ll be the only thing you do. The only time you do it. Because she’s mine and I don’t share.”
He walks me toward the couch, bends me over the back of it which is high enough that I’m on tip toe. Cassian leans over me, kisses my cheek, the side of my mouth. “Now you watch him. Keep your eyes on him when I fuck you. Let him watch and want because he will never have you.”
I hear his zipper and a moment later, his hands are splaying me open and he pushes into me with a deep groan.
“Cassian.” I should tell him to stop. Tell him I don’t want this. But it would be a lie. I do want this. I want Cassian inside me. Do I want Jet watching?
“You’re wet, Allegra. Dripping.”
“I’m—"
“Him,” he says, cutting me off and turning my head so my cheek rests against the back of the couch and I can see Jet. Jet who hasn’t moved. Jet whose eyes have gone fully black, whose erection I can see straining against his slacks.
“Cassian—”
Cassian spanks my ass, and I jerk with the sharp slap. It’s not painful just a surprise. “Eyes stay on my stepbrother.”
I do as I’m told, keeping my eyes on Jet as Cassian pushes into me, stretching me, stealing the breath from me as I take him.
He begins to rock his hips, fucking me slow and deep.
Making me feel him inch by solid, punishing inch.
He slips one hand beneath me, two fingers on my swollen clit and I watch Jet while Cassian fucks me.
My breaths are pants interspersed with moans because Cassian is right.
I like Jet watching. I like it even if I know it’s wrong.
I shift my gaze to Cassian wanting to see his eyes, because they’re so beautiful when he comes, and when I do, he meets my gaze and it’s just the two of us right now, just him and me in this whole world.
“You’re drenched, Allegra,” he says, leaning over me to fist a handful of hair and make me turn my head to look at him.
He kisses me and I kiss him back as his thrusts come harder, faster, more frantic.
“Come, Little Moth. Come for me. For me. Only for me,” Cassian orders and I do.
I do because I have no choice. His fingers on my clit, his cock inside me, those eyes like the deepest, wildest sea looking at me, I do.
I come even as in my periphery I see Jet’s hands clenched into fists, his jaw tight before he walks away.
Orgasm has my body pulsing even as I hear the echo of Jet’s steps as he stalks down the center aisle and away.
Even as I watch Cassian turn his head to watch Jet go, his cock throbs inside me and we’re both panting.
The front door slams shut.
Cassian slides out of me, eyes in the direction of that sound before returning to me.
“Did you prove your point?” I ask him.
Now that our fucking is over, we glare at each other.
We’re good at that. “I don’t know. Did I?
” he asks, keeping me bent over because even as he vows to be my protector, he can be cruel, too.
His hand presses on my lower back and he watches his come slide down my thighs.
I get the feeling he’s driving his point home. Proving his dominance over me.
My desire for it.
“You belong to me, Allegra. Your body belongs to me. Your soul belongs to me.”
I snort. “You claim what is not given.”
He grins, weaves his hand into my hair and hauls me up to stand, turning me to face him.
He studies me for a moment before he lifts me up in his arms and carries me to his bedroom, never breaking the lock of our eyes.
He kicks the door closed and sets me on my feet at the foot of the bed.
His eyes search my face and when he kisses me our eyes remain open and glaring.
Angry kissing. Angry fucking. It’s our love language.
Love.
What the fuck is wrong with my brain?
“And you have not given?” he asks, then pulls me closer, mouth at my ear, scruff scratching my cheek. “The come sliding down your thighs would say otherwise, sweet Little Moth,” he whispers wickedly.
I wrap my good hand in his hair, tug at it to hurt him. I don’t even know why.
He takes it without flinching. Without forcing me to stop or trying to pull me away. I remember how he took my slaps, my fists, my nails. How he stood steady in the face of my fury. My fear. Solid and unbending. My dark angel. My Azazel.
“I still hate you,” I tell him what I’ve told him before although it’s not true. I know that now.
“You can hate me all you want. It won’t make you any less mine.”
“Sex is one thing. My soul is another.”
“Are you ready to talk about your soul then?” he asks, studying me, entertained.
My heart is racing. Am I ready?
He grins, gives me the slightest push at the center of my chest so I drop to a seat on the edge of the bed. He crouches down between my legs, wraps his arms around my thighs and tugs me to himself. I drop back onto my elbows.
“Then let’s talk about your soul. Because the thing is, as much as I want you, you want me, too. You want to belong to me.”
He shifts his gaze from my eyes to my pussy, and I am very aware of how his come is still leaking out of me.
When he dips his head to scrape his teeth over my clit, I gasp, fisting handfuls of the duvet as he begins to lap up his own come, mine, a fresh arousal building inside me, my clit still swollen and too sensitive.
“You want to be mine in every way, Little Moth.” He buries his face between my legs and doesn’t come up for air until I arch my back and press myself into him and it’s moments before I come, griping handfuls of the duvet, my eyes closed, head thrown back as he devours me whole.
Only when it’s over, when orgasm subsides and I lie boneless on the bed, does Cassian rise to stand to his full height, all powerful, a wide grin on his face, his lips glistening with his victory over me.
“And you are mine in every way. Body and soul, you are mine.” His eyes grow serious, that grin vanishing, expression hardening.
“Understand that, Allegra. And know that I will wreck this world to avenge you. Know it here.” He sets his hand against my chest, over my heart.
“Know it with your body. Know it with your soul. Know that I will destroy anyone and anything that stands in my path to avenge you, my Allegra.”
I stare up at him, startled, heartbeats wild beneath his warm hand.
I’m still trying to catch my breath. I set mine over his and feel his warmth, his strength.
I begin to shiver. Cassian sees it, he pulls his shirt over his head and slips it over mine before tucking me into the bed and pulling the blanket around me.
He cups the back of my head and the way he looks at me makes breathing hard.
Makes me think maybe he’s right. Maybe his claim on my soul is not nothing.
I gasp when my gaze catches on an angry wound on his shoulder, the rows of stitches lined up like soldiers. “What happened to you?”
He glances at it like he’d forgotten about it, then shifts his gaze back to me. “That’s me coming for you.”
“What…” I touch it gently, look up at him, trying to understand him, this man who wants to possess me. Who is right in that I want to be possessed by him.
“I’d take a dozen more bullets for you. Do you know that?”
How did I not see it before? I’ve been so out of it, sleeping most of the time. I haven’t seen him fully naked or even shirtless since he brought me back.
The stitches are rough, the skin beneath warm. I look at the other scar on his stomach. The one that’s barely healed. The one I put there. There are others too. Old ones hidden beneath the dark ink of the Grim Reaper’s robes.
I turn my gaze up to his. “Why?”
“Why?”
I nod.
He touches my cheek, brushes hair back from my face. “Because I feel you inside myself. In here.” He touches his chest, hand over his heart. “I feel you in here, Allegra. And here.” He touches his stomach. “You are inside me just as I am inside you. I belong to you just as you belong to me.”
We stay like that, no more angry glaring, two souls bared, almost. My fingertips touch the space where his heart beats. I set the flat of my hand against it and he covers it with his, his touch gentle, his hand warm.
“Do you understand now, my Allegra?”
I look up at him, into those eyes where I can lose myself. Where I know I’ll never be lost.
“He told me you weren’t coming,” I hear myself say, my voice small. How little faith I had.
Cassian’s eyes darken and narrow. “And you believed him?”
“He said Michael paid you and you wouldn’t come for me.”
“Did you believe him?” he presses, and tears blur my vision of him.
“You don’t know what I did,” I whisper, looking away, feeling shame. Feeling shame for my weakness. He doesn’t now that his vow is wasted on me. I can’t be his. It’s too late for that.
He cups my face, turns it up to his.
“Whatever you did, you did to survive,” he says, his jaw tight, and I don’t know if I’m grateful or sorry he doesn’t push me to say it. To tell him what happened in that room. What happened after Malek cut off my finger.
“You don’t understand.” My throat is so tight, the words come out strange.
“You told me on the first day I met you when you gave me this,” he says, pointing to the scar on his side. “You told me that you wouldn’t be a good little victim. Do you know that I believed you from the start?”
I search his eyes, so different from Malek’s, from Michael’s, from my father’s. Their eyes were dead. Their eyes only came alive when they were cruel. But Cassian isn’t cruel. He’s never been cruel. Not even in the beginning. Not to me.
“I don’t like it when I wake up and you’re gone,” I admit. “I was scared. I am scared. I’m scared all the time, and I hate myself for it. For being so weak.”
Cassian sits on the edge of the bed, and I lay my head on his shoulder. He caresses my hair, quiet, waiting.
“It’s like,” I start, but it’s a false start and I need to lick my lips and swallow and try again because this?
What I’m going to tell him? It is me baring my soul to him.
“It’s like I went back in time when he took me there.
To that house. That room downstairs. And he still had all those things.
Everything, even the smell of the place.
..” My voice breaks and a tear slips from my eye.
Cassian’s caresses stop, hand heavier. He pulls me closer to himself.
I wipe my face, look up at him. “At that house, I became exactly what I said I’d never be. His good little victim.”
“You are not his. You were never his. You will never be his,” Cassian says angrily.
He shakes his head. “No.” He touches the healing bruise at my temple, and I can almost see him trying to calm himself, to shield me from his anger.
“Fear is natural when you are at the mercy of a soulless monster,” he says, voice tight.
“It doesn’t make you weak. Fear can become your strength if you choose to make it so. ”
“I wasn’t strong. I was just scared.” I look away when I begin to cry again because I can’t seem to stop crying.
He cups my face, makes me look up at him. “You are strong. You are so strong. But until you realize that for yourself, I will be strong enough for the both of us. Let me carry you, Little Moth. I will keep you safe and I will bring your enemies to their knees before you.”
“In pieces,” I hear myself say, remembering his promise earlier.
He nods, reaffirming. “In pieces.”