23. Bastian #3
But this is the second time I’ve submitted. First to Haven when she pulled a fucking gun on me, and now this.
And this is the second time I’ve taught Kai how to do something.
The heat building inside me is as much arousal as it is rage.
I want to strip off his skin. I want to make him watch while I do the same to Haven. I want to—
Nothing, because right then, Kai clamps down on the side of my neck with his teeth hard enough to make me gasp.
And I come.
Christ, how I come.
Releasing a guttural groan, I buck into our tight grip, my cock sliding against his, slick and hot with cum.
“Jesus,” Kai mutters like it’s a fucking curse.
Jesus, indeed.
My hand is flush with his warm skin, which means at some stage I slipped a hand under the neck of his hoodie.
At some stage he slid a hand under my shirt and grabbed my waist.
I don’t remember either.
His nails rake over my lower back as his cock throbs in my hand a second before another flood of warm cum erupts over our fingers.
The wet mess makes the most delicious sucking sound as we both ride out our climax, side by side, breaths matched in a furious panting that sounds as feral and savage as this entire exchange has been.
But the comedown is brutal.
One moment I’m floating in that rare, blissful space where nothing exists but sensation. The next, reality crashes back like a car slamming into a brick wall.
I’m in an alley behind a dive bar, cock out, covered in cum—mine and his—with Kai’s forehead pressed against my shoulder like I’m someone to lean on.
Like I’m safe.
The rage that floods me is instantaneous. Absolute.
I shove him off. Hard.
He stumbles back, catching himself on the dumpster with one hand while the other fumbles to tuck himself back into his sweats.
His movements are clumsy, uncoordinated.
The adrenaline that fueled his little power play has burned off, leaving nothing but a drunk, stoned boy who’s struggling to stand upright.
“The f—uck?” His voice wobbles like a child who’s been scolded.
I don’t answer. I’m too busy flicking cum off my fingers and zipping up my jeans with hands that won’t stop trembling.
“You let him do that,” Bad Wolf growls. “You let him take control.”
“But you enjoyed it,” Good Wolf chimes in. “Because you’re changing.”
I can still feel the ghost of his teeth on my neck. Can still taste him on my tongue. Can still hear that guttural sound I made when I came—for him, because of him—with his hand wrapped around my cock like he even had a fucking clue what the hell he was doing.
No one controls me.
No one.
“Did I—Did I do it wrong?” Kai’s voice is still shaking. “Isn’t this what you wanted?”
“You think I wanted a clumsy fucking hand job from a simp like you?”
He flinches.
Good Wolf howls.
He rakes his fingers through his hair, grimaces when he realizes there’s cum in them. “Jesus, sorry.” He’s trying to sound angry, but he just sounds…lost. “Not like I fucking meant to—”
“To what?” I round on him, and whatever he sees in my face makes him press back against the dumpster. “Rip off my dick? Slobber all over my face like a fucking dog? Make me—” I cut myself off, jaw clenching so hard my teeth ache.
Make me lose control.
That’s the real crime here, isn’t it? Not the kiss. Not the desperate rutting against the wall like animals. The crime is that Kai—this spoiled, broken, disaster of a boy—made me submit.
And I liked it.
“I thought—” Kai swallows hard. His eyes are glistening in the dim light. “I thought you wanted—”
“Christ. You gonna fucking cry now?” I don’t recognize the sound of my own voice. I straighten my hoodie, brushing off imaginary dirt. Anything to avoid looking at him.
“Fuck you!” But the words are weak. Broken. “You were into it. You came—”
“Don’t flatter yourself. I came because I was thinking of Haven.”
His face crumples when he hears the truth in my voice. Because it is true…to some extent. Enough to matter, anyway.
I drag in a steeling breath.
Feels good to be back in the driver’s seat again.
Until a tear races down his cheek, glistening in the floodlight like I’ve been transported to a low-budget rom-com, and this is the part where the main leads break up for all of ten on-screen minutes.
Good Wolf whimpers.
Actually fucking whimpers.
“You made him hurt. Fix him.”
I tell Good Wolf to fuck right the fuck off.
But it persists, whining away like the pussy-ass bitch it is.
“He’s drunk and confused and he just did something terrifying. Now you’re punishing him. Haven would never forgive you if she knew—“
Haven.
Good Wolf knows it struck a nerve. “Yes! Haven would never forgive you.”
She will hate me for reducing her monster to tears in a filthy alley and walking away. She’s protective of Kai in ways she doesn’t even understand yet—ways that have nothing to do with love and everything to do with shared trauma, shared history, shared damage.
I didn’t come out here to break him. I came to punish him…and even I know I’ve gone too far.