Chapter 8 #2
Some deeply inconvenient, very honest part of me is immediately turned on by it.
He looks murderous and amused all at once, and my body reacts like it hasn’t gotten the memo that this is a problem.
Like I didn’t just come apart ten minutes ago on his equally murderous brother's cock and should maybe be done with adrenaline for the night.
Great.
Add that to the list of things I’ll unpack never.
I stare at Mark, unimpressed, while Kross holds him there like a bad habit he’s about to break. The contrast is almost funny, and yet I still don’t feel scared. If anything, I feel…alert. Awake. Annoyingly aware of how far past normal tonight blew and how little I fucking care.
Yeah.
That’s probably something I should worry about later.
“Aeri—” Mark mumbles, my name slurring out of him like it might still work.
His head lolls toward me, chin dipping, shoulders caving like gravity finally decided to collect.
His fingers twitch at his sides, useless and pathetic, grasping for leverage, for mercy, for the version of me that used to give a shit.
I laugh.
The sound rips out of me sharp and sudden, like my body said fuck it before my brain could intervene. It isn’t kind or soft. It’s ugly, startled, and honest as hell, and it lands right where it’s meant to.
Kade’s hand presses into my waist immediately, steadying me when my knees wobble. Not because I’m afraid. Because a part of me is thrilled, and that’s so much fucking worse.
Kross’s gaze slides past me and locks on the man in his grip.
His mouth curls.
“Well, I’ll be fucked,” he says lightly. “Look who didn’t learn.” Kross tightens his grip, fingers digging into Mark’s collar just enough to steal the rest of the sentence.
Kade’s voice cuts in, sharp and commanding in that “no fun twin” way. “Fucking Christ, Kross. Get the fuck in here.” He steps back to make room. The bathroom feels even smaller with the three of them in the doorway, Mark hanging between Kross’s hand and gravity.
Kross drags him in and shoves him without a second thought. Mark stumbles hard, boots scraping tile as he barely keeps his feet under him. He slams shoulder-first into the counter, breath punching out of his chest, and then everything happens at once.
In the blink of an eye, his mask comes off. Gone in a goddamn heartbeat. His hand is suddenly at the back of my neck, fingers tangling rough and unapologetic in my dark hair as he crashes his mouth onto mine.
It’s violent. Hungry. Possessive as fuck.
Like he’s daring the room to argue.
I kiss him back without hesitation, matching him beat for beat, teeth, lips and heat, because yeah, if this is how the night’s going, I’m not spending another minute pretending I’m not enjoying every fucking second.
Behind us, Mark makes a broken, choking sound. He tries to catch himself on the counter, palms slipping, and leaves a dark smear of blood across the porcelain. Kade reaches past him and slams the door shut again, locking it in place with a sharp, final click.
Instantly, the noise outside spikes—muffled yelling, fists hitting the door, someone shouting about getting security. Good luck with that, the odds of them actually doing shit, are pretty slim..
Kross pulls back just enough to grin, forehead resting against mine, breath warm, smug, and entirely too pleased with himself. “Hey, little valentine,” he murmurs, cocky as ever.
Kade clears his throat behind us as he leans back against the sink and crosses his arms, eyes cutting toward Kross in clear warning.
“Oh, save the territorial bullshit.” Kross scoffs, not even looking at him. “You don’t get to call dibs like she’s a fucking parking spot. You had your moment. Now it’s my turn. That’s how sharing works—try to keep up, bro.”
My stomach flips hard.
Jesus fucking Christ.
The way they say it—so casual and certain, like ownership isn’t a question but a goddamn fact, does things to me.
Mark doesn’t say anything.
But he stiffens.
It’s subtle—just a hitch in his breathing, a sharp pull of his jaw, the way his eyes cut away the second Kross’s mouth finds mine again. Like he can’t stand the sight of it. Like it crawls under his skin in exactly the wrong way.
That’s all it takes.
Kade sees it immediately.
I don’t know how I know—maybe it’s the way his posture shifts, or the way his gaze flicks from Mark to me and back again, quick and assessing—but something clicks into place behind his eyes.
He pulls his blade free and drops down to Mark’s level, unhurried and controlled. The knife spins once between his fingers, catching the light before he stills it.
He doesn’t look angry. Doesn’t look rushed.
He looks decided.
“So,” he says quietly, more to himself than anyone else, “you don’t like that.”
Mark swallows hard, eyes darting away again.
Kade’s mouth curves—not a smile, exactly. More like a conclusion.
“Good,” he murmurs. “Kross, you wanted a turn, didn’t you? Well, since we have an audience, I think now is the perfect fucking time. Maybe then he’ll actually fucking learn,”
Kross instantly smirks, knowing full well what his brother means. Like some telepathic fucking twin thing is passing between them of their grand plan. But as Kross’s hand comes down on my hip firmly, and his smirk turns back to me, it hits me. And holy shit if it doesn’t get me wet all over again.
Kross’s mouth crashes into mine again, hard and unapologetic, his grip pulling me flush against him like there’s no room left for hesitation. His teeth catch my lower lip, tugging it into his mouth before releasing it with a sharp pop that leaves my pulse stuttering.
“Why don’t you wrap those pretty lips around my cock, little valentine,” he murmurs, the words soft and dangerous, threaded with a confidence that makes heat rush straight to my face.
My cheeks burn. I bite my lip where he did, slow and deliberate, letting my gaze hold his before I sink down in front of him.
I trail my hands and mouth down his body, stopping when I find the shallow cut across his skin. Blood seeps slowly, warm and vivid against him. My eyes lift to his.
“It’s nothing,” he says easily, smirking. “Just a little scratch.”
He fumbles with his belt, fingers clumsy with urgency until it finally gives.
His cock springs free, and holy fuck—there’s no subtle way to process that.
It’s hard and heavy in my hand, solid and warm as I guide it up, letting the tip drag slowly across my lips.
I keep my eyes locked on his the entire time, watching the exact moment his control falters.
A hiss escapes him as his fingers thread into my hair, guiding instead of forcing, control disguised as indulgence.
“That’s it,” he mutters. “Fuck—you have the softest lips I’ve ever felt.”
I steady myself, one hand braced against him, anchoring my balance the other jerking his cock as I suck.
Movement to the side pulls my attention.
Kade.
He hauls Mark upright with brutal efficiency, forcing him to sit, and face us. Mark resists—weak, and frantic, but Kade doesn’t waste words.
The blade flashes.
Mark gasps as steel sinks into his side. Blood blooms dark and fast across his shirt as he slumps back with a broken, wet sound. But I don’t stop. Not when Kross’s grip in my hair tightens, shoving his cock deeper into my throat like he’s done pretending to be polite.
“Oh no you don’t. You’re going to fucking watch,” Kade says coldly. “You don’t get to fucking look away. No, you’re going to witness every goddamn second of our Aeri, choking on his cock.”
Kross laughs softly above me, low and pleased. “Hear that?” he murmurs. “Guess we should show him exactly what the fuck he’s missing then.”
His hand fists harder at my scalp and he drives in so deep it punches the back of my throat. I have to grab his jeans with both hands just to stay upright as he fucks my mouth again and again, stretching my jaw until it burns like hell.
“Breathe, little valentine,” he murmurs. “That’s it. Such a good fucking girl. God—your throat feels so fucking good.”
Tears sting my eyes, but I don’t stop him.
Don’t even think about it. Because holy shit, this might be the hottest, most unhinged moment of my entire fucked-up life.
Being used like this while my cheating ex is forced to watch?
Swallowing a killer’s cock while he bleeds out on a dirty bathroom floor, knowing this is the last thing he’ll ever see?
Yeah. That should probably horrify me.
Instead, I’m fucking soaked.
Like, what the actual fuck is wrong with me levels of wet. And the fact that my brain is screaming Holy shit, I like this while everything in this room is objectively wrong? That’s… alarming. And also kind of fucking incredible.
“Fucking hell,” Kross grunts, slamming into me once more before suddenly hauling me upright without warning and steering me toward the sink.
He bends me over, yanks my jeweled thong aside, and drags his swollen tip through me. Swirling it through his brothers cum and my arousal. “Oh fuck,” I cry, gripping the porcelain as my eyes meet his in the mirror.
“I fucking knew I smelled sex in here.” He smirks toward Kade, the realization clicking the second he clocks me already full of his brother’s cum. And because he’s Kross, because he can’t help himself, his hand comes down on my ass hard enough that the crack echoes off the tile.
Then he snaps his hips forward.
“Goddamn—Jesus Christ,” he groans. “You’re tight, little valentine.” He pauses just long enough to savor it, breath catching, before starting to move again. “You gonna choke my fucking cock with this pretty cunt, baby?”
Our eyes lock again in the mirror. His hand slides up, wraps around my throat, and he leans in close, breath hot against my ear.
“Eyes on him,” he orders quietly. “I want him to see exactly what it looks like when you come undone for me.”
Mark struggles again.
Kade doesn’t hesitate—another swift, punishing strike of the blade.