34. CHAPTER 34
CILLIAN
“Shower first. Then I have to sit through that boring shit when all I want is to keep you naked.”
“Shut up,” Moon said, climbing off me. I just lay there, eyes glued to the long line of his back, the way his ass flexed with every step. Slender. Toned. That faint tan from Saint Lucia still clinging to his skin. Fuck.
I wanted to sink my teeth into him again. He’d never let me into his room before. Everything had its place.
The shower turned on. I should’ve stayed in bed. Ireland, New York, the Glass House, getting wrecked and wrecking him—I was wrecked. But my cock twitched at the sound of water hitting his skin.
“You’re not joining me?” Moon called.
Of course I wasn’t saying no.
I grabbed the lube and stepped in behind him. Steam and hot water closed around us. “Mmm. You smell good.” He turned, water sliding down his chest. “You okay? You look—” I grabbed the back of his neck and bent him over the tiles. “Shh, Moonshine.”
“Ahg—” The sound punched out of him. “Cillian.”
I poured lube straight down his crack. He whimpered, ass pushing back. I didn’t give him fingers. Just pushed in, slow, feeling that tight heat fight me, then open up like it was made for this.
“Fuck—Cillian.” His fingers scrabbled against the wall.
I spread his cheeks wider, watching myself disappear inside him. “You like my cock that much? Still so fucking ready after I just filled you up.”
“Cillian, mmph, we don’t—” I slapped his ass hard. The sound cracked through the steam. He moaned, clenching around me so tight my vision blurred.
I fucked him slow at first, deep, grinding against that spot until his legs shook. Then I grabbed his cock, stroking rough while I drove in harder. “Come for me, baby.”
He came with a choked sound, painting the wall, ass squeezing. I buried myself to the hilt and followed, groaning his name against his wet shoulder as I filled him again.
Water hammered our skin. I stayed buried a second longer, then pulled out slowly. My come leaked down his thigh.
Mine.
“Oh… my… god…” Moon was still braced on the tiles, legs trembling, looking back at me with those wrecked eyes. “We will never get ready for the banquet if we keep fucking each other like this.”
I grinned, slapped his ass once more. “Good. I hate banquets. I’d rather stay here and fuck you again. And again.”
He splashed water at me, cheeks flushed dark. “Get out of my shower. You don’t have your suit here anyway. Go back to Briar House. I’ll see you at the banquet.”
I kissed him hard, tasting water and him, then stepped out dripping. As I pulled on my clothes I spotted the keychain on his dresser, penguin, shamrock, crescent moon. He’d kept it.
I left Aster Court smiling.
I almost crashed into Misha as I shoved open the door to Briar House. Tux on, smirk sharp, heading out.
“Well if it isn’t the backstabbing best friend.”
“Woah, Cil—”
I grabbed his collar and dragged him back inside, slamming the door behind us.
“You left me with that Swiss psycho and Declan,” I growled.
Misha’s grin faltered. “I was heading over, but Grandfather showed up. Aleksei wasn’t around. Lovchy family shit. You know how it is.”
“Are you okay?” His eyes narrowed, scanning the bruises on my jaw, my split knuckles. “Anything I should be worried about?”
I rubbed a hand over my face. The gnawing in my chest wouldn’t fucking quit. If I left the banquet to check, Moon would know something was wrong. And I couldn’t have him looking at me like I was the monster who couldn’t even finish the job for him.
“I need to get ready. See you at the banquet.”
I brushed past him up the stairs.
“We’re good, man?” he called after me.
“Yeah. Yeah.” I waved him off.
Misha followed anyway, grabbing my arm hard on the landing. “Maybe we should talk now.”
I shook him off.
“Did you… last night?”
That concerned look on Misha’s face was wrong. He didn’t do concerned. He did chaos. The fact that he was giving it to me now made my gut twist hard.
I shrugged.
He froze. “You don’t know. Fuck, Cillian. You should’ve made sure. This is really fucking bad.”
I kept walking. He followed me straight into my room, eyes landing on the Korean book open on the desk.
“Aww, look at you. Learning your fiancé’s language.”
I gave him a deadpan stare and started stripping.
“I fucking panicked, Misha.”
I hurled my shirt at the wall. Dull slap. “He stopped moving and I just… left. Didn’t even check if the bastard was dead.”
My chest felt too tight. Something clawing to get out. I rubbed at it, split knuckles stinging, but the ache didn’t fucking help.
“Okay, hey. Cil.” Misha grabbed my shoulders, grip firm. “We’ll figure it out. Kaelan was there too, right?”
I dragged in a breath. “He ran after some owl-masked jerk. I don’t know. I spent the next six hours crawling through that fucking mansion looking for my phone. Sun came up, I got out. I did this because Moon’s father wanted Declan gone. And if I can’t even protect him properly—”
“Shut up.” Misha’s hands tightened on my shoulders. “We need a plan. Everything will be fine. Get in the shower, you smell like sex and panic. You look haunted as fuck, man. I’ll wait here. We’ll hit the banquet together. Just… breathe. You’re actually freaking me out with this.”
I combed my fingers through my hair and walked into the bathroom.
Hot water hit my skin but it didn’t wash away shit. My ribs still ached from Declan’s fists. My ass still ached from Moon fucking me. I’d let him. I’d begged him. And I’d do it again in a heartbeat.
Saint Lucia. I’d let him choose. He stayed. Then walked out. That scar never closed.
Every plan ended with him. Korea. Somewhere quiet. Waking up to that annoyed little frown and his perfect mouth telling me to shut up. I couldn’t let his father down. Couldn’t lose him.
What if one day Moon looked at me and saw what everyone else did?
Irish mafia scum.
No.
Shove it down.
I rinsed off, dried fast, and walked back out with the towel slung low. Misha was sprawled on my bed, flipping through my Korean book like it was porn.
“I’m learning your fiancé’s language. It’s fucking hard though. How does he do it?”
“He grew up with a Korean mom. That’s how.” I dropped the towel and grabbed boxers.
“Wow, dude. Warning next time? I know I’ve seen you naked a million times but still.”
I pulled my shirt over my head and shrugged. “Thought you were gay. There’s no way Adrian Mirovsky is hotter than me.”
Misha closed the book, grinning.
“You know. You should meet him sometime.”
I yanked the tux off the hanger.
“I don’t know if he likes the Ashbournes very much.”
Misha snorted. “I don’t think he has anything against you. He hates my grandfather, but he likes me. So…”
“Are you two serious?” I started knotting the tie in front of the mirror, watching Misha scratch the back of his neck.
“I don’t know. He’s… I haven’t asked. Don’t want to come off needy.”
I turned, eyebrow raised. “Needy?”
“Turns out relationships are complicated. Especially when you’re from two rival Russian mafia families.
” He leaned back on the bed, voice dropping.
“He’s good to me though. Notices shit. After Mom died that kind of attention just…
disappeared. Dad’s a cold asshole. Grandfather’s worse.
Aleksei’s just like them. Of course I had to be the fucked-up one who’s gay.
Couldn’t just be another heartless Russian who fucks women for sport. ”
“Talk to Adrian. Tell me next time you see him. If not, dump the guy.”
Misha grinned, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Hey, from one thing to another, will I be your best man?”
I shrugged the jacket on, rolling my shoulders once. The fabric felt too tight. “Yeah. Who else would it be?”
“True that. I’m your only friend.”
I punched at his shoulder. He dodged, laughing, but I caught the way his eyes flicked to the bruises on my jaw. He knew. He always knew.
We headed downstairs, the weight of the banquet and Declan and Moon’s father sitting heavy in my chest.
We finally made it to the banquet. Champagne corks popped somewhere in Vesper’s corner, laughter too loud, but my eyes cut straight through the crowd for Moon. Duh.
Misha drifted toward Aleksei and Igor. My gaze kept hunting the room. No Moon yet. They waved me over. Dammit.
“Cillian, you seen Declan?” Igor asked. “Missing since yesterday. Wasn’t at the ceremony either.”
Misha shot up. “I’ll grab you a drink, Cil. Already told them I haven’t seen him. You were overseas anyway.”
He bolted for the bar. I dropped into the chair, jaw tight. “Nah. Haven’t seen him. What do you think happened?”
Aleksei leaned back. “Ronan’s already sniffing around. With the beef you two had all year, he’ll come to you first. And he won’t like ‘no’ for an answer.”
Igor huffed into his whiskey. “Who gives a fuck. Place is quieter without that Irish piece of shit anyway.”
Misha slid the whiskey in front of me. “Who the fuck would even know where that big brute crawled off to? Whitlock’s the one with all the gossip if we need it.”
Aleksei sighed, rubbing his temple. “We handle it ourselves. Last thing we need is Whitlock sticking his nose in. His methods are… extreme.”
“I’m bored by this conversation. Ronan can go fuck himself.” I downed the rest of the whiskey, the burn doing nothing to loosen the knot in my chest. “Ashbourne already put them in their place. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to find Moon.”
“Where’s Moon?”
Sawyer looked up, eyes sharp. “First, why the fuck were you at the mansion? I’d know if you were invited.”
I dropped into the seat. “Don’t owe you shit. Where is he, Sawyer?”
“I talked to Kaelan. I know what you three had planned.”
“Misha wasn’t there. Don’t drag him into this.”