Chapter 20
“Hello, my pretty girl,” I whispered as I grabbed onto Eva’s waist and pulled her flush to my body before my lips found her neck.
It took everything in me not to bite her again, but I was trying to contain myself.
Her brother probably wouldn’t like watching me fuck her against my car, nor would he like seeing her neck riddled with my marks.
Normally, I didn’t give a fuck what other people thought of me. If I wanted to make my girlfriend scream, I would. If I wanted to paint her with bruises like a fucking Picasso, I would.
But I knew how much this meant to Eva. She still yearned for happily ever afters, for moments where the crowd cheered as the prince kissed his true love.
I didn’t believe in that shit. Happy endings were taken, not earned. And I would take and take and take until I got mine.
But, again, Eva. She cared about those things. She believed in them. And I would suppress my monstrous nature if it made her smile. I would cut out my own heart if she asked it of me—as long as she continued to be mine.
“Hi, Alek,” she said, her voice soft and musical.
I groaned. “Solnyshka, you know what saying my name does to me.”
I turned and pressed her into the dark metal, letting her feel my already-hard cock.
Eva gasped, neck already arching in submission.
She was a natural, bending to my will with just one look.
I fucking loved it. She knew her place was with me—underneath me, against me, by my side. I would do anything to keep her there.
Pulling away, I forced myself to look anywhere but her soft, glossy lips, the way they parted like her tongue needed to be fucked as much as her pussy did. My eyes traveled down her body, to her pretty pink dress that slightly flared at her hips, inviting me to grab onto her thighs and pick her up.
The shoes. Look at her shoes. There’s nothing too sexy about those.
But I was wrong, because everything about Eva was fucking intoxicating.
Her shoes were cute little heels, and while I didn’t care about them at all, I looked at her bare ankles and pictured running my lips up her leg until I reached her core.
She would be so wet, my Eva, her pussy already aching for me, needing me to stretch and fill her—
Focus. Meeting the fucking brother.
“I missed you,” I rasped, because no words seemed to explain how long the afternoon had felt without her. Hence my insufferable clinginess.
“It’s only been a few hours.”
“A few too many.” I nipped at her neck and almost fell to my knees at the taste of her, at the feeling of her pulse jumping beneath my teeth. “Fuck. I need to taste you.”
Eva blushed. She looked back and forth, making sure no one was around to see. But, thankfully, Eva’s brother lived in a rich fucking neighborhood. Not as rich as mine, but not everyone could be on my level.
It was an older part of the city, the houses all made out of faded brick and stone. A place made of generational wealth, of the people who watched the world change without doing anything about it themselves.
I could never be like that, could never be satisfied with my place in the world.
I would always want more until the beast in me was finally satisfied.
Since I couldn’t chain my girlfriend to my side and bring my sister back from the dead, I never would.
So I would continue to take and take from this infernal hellhole until nothing could threaten what was mine again.
Lifting Eva’s skirt so my hands could slide up, I groaned when I realized my innocent little girlfriend wasn’t wearing fucking underwear.
“No underwear?” I growled as my finger dipped into her perfect, pink pussy. She was practically dripping for me, her little curls soaked and waiting for me.
“I… um…” Eva shook her head. “I couldn’t. The dress would show the lines.”
"You really are fucking perfect."
She furrowed her brows, but I paid it no mind, thrusting my fingers into her before shoving them into my mouth, moaning at the sweet taste. Her body tightened, lips parting. She is divine.
But when I went to unzip my trousers, Eva put her hand on mine, stopping me. I gritted my teeth. “I need to fuck you.”
“Not now, Alek. My brother could see.”
“So let him see. He’ll learn that you’re mine.”
“Later, Alek.” At my dark look, Eva sighed and kissed me gently. “You know I want to feel you inside of me. But I can’t risk Jules seeing us and going ballistic. I promise we can later, okay?”
I groaned and adjusted my hard-on. “Fine. But you’re paying for it later.”
Eva smiled. “Looking forward to it. Are you ready to meet my brother now?”
“I guess,” I said, voice rougher than intended, because I would have much rather pulled her into the backseat of my car and recreated this morning over and over. I planned to make good on those failed wishes many times later.
I had no idea she wouldn’t keep her promise.
The house loomed larger the closer we got.
Brick pillars flanked the entrance, worn smooth with age.
Cold light spilled from the tall windows, curtains swaying with staff eyeing us with curiosity.
The light from the lanterns flanking the entrance did nothing to soften the place.
If anything, it made the shadow sharper.
Eva slowed at the door, turning to face me one last time. Her eyes searched mine—not fearful, not uncertain, just… hopeful. Trusting.
That look landed somewhere deep in my chest.
She took my hand, lacing her fingers through mine like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Like she had no idea of her ability to completely undo the heir and de facto leader of the most powerful mob in the city with a single look and the absence of a little fabric.
Eva squeezed my hand once as if meant to reassure me.
But I could tell from the way she bit her lip that it was she who needed reassurance.
“Hey,” I said, gripping her chin and bringing her dark eyes to meet mine. “Everything will be fine.”
“I know. Jules promised to be on his best behavior, and he even said he’ll let us get settled at the dinner table for a few minutes before the interrogation begins. I’m sure it’ll be great.” A stormcloud of worries thundered behind her eyes, and the annoyance in me softened.
I brushed my thumb along her jaw, every touch reverent. “I’ll behave,” I told her quietly. “For you.”
Her lips curved into a smile meant only for me. “That’s all I ask.”
She leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to my mouth—sweet, restrained, nothing like what we both wanted. Yet it was still a temptation, because Eva was sin wrapped in sweetness.
My girl smiled at me. Then she opened the door.
Cold air rushed out to greet us, thick with the scent of polished wood and something sharper beneath it. Oil, maybe, or even blood. Something that soaked into the walls over decades and never quite left.
I stepped inside after Eva, immediately aware of how quiet the house was. Not peaceful, but hushed. Like something was holding its breath, studying me, gauging whether I was predator or prey.
I straightened my posture and glared into the darkness, shuffling closer to Eva, who led me through the home, occasionally commenting on different aspects of the house.
There was wood everywhere. Dark mahogany floors, dark walls adorned with crown molding, a sweeping staircase that curved upward like a spine.
Everything was pristine and expensive and utterly lifeless.
There were no photographs. No art that didn’t look like it was purchased at an auction house.
No sign of clutter or warmth. No, there were only objects chosen because they were old, rare, and worth more than most of the people in the city earned in their lifetime.
It was money without taste. Wealth without joy. Immaculate in the way that mausoleums were.
I fucking hated it.
Eva’s hand slipped from mine as she continued through the home.
I fell behind her, noticing the way her shoulders rounded a fraction, and her steps faltered as if unsure.
The lightness she carried around with her everywhere she went dimmed, like someone had turned down the flame on one of those old-timey gas lanterns the moment she entered.
My solnyshka shrank.
The sight of it made my jaw tighten. What kind of fucking childhood did she have to feel like she didn’t belong in her own family’s home?
Eva had occasionally told me stories from when she was a kid, though most of them were happy memories involving her brother playing with her.
She rarely spoke of her parents, and when she did, it was with an air of detachment—like she was talking about a distant cousin or something.
My Eva was never unkind, but it was as if she barely knew them.
I didn’t realize how true that was until I looked around this house she claimed she grew up in, unable to find a sign of her anywhere.
There were no photos of a little girl with her brown hair tied in pigtails adorned with pink ribbons.
No crooked drawings framed with pride. No evidence that a little girl had ever laughed or cried or grown up here.
If I hadn’t known better, I would’ve assumed this house had been occupied exclusively by ghosts and men who didn’t believe in tenderness.
I imagined Eva small in these halls—too quiet, too careful, learning early how not to take up space. Thinking that she had to earn her love from people who refused to give it to her.
Something ugly arose within me. This wasn’t a home. This was a breeding ground for all the demons I’d been trying to eradicate within her.
Without thinking, I pulled Eva back to my side and kissed her. My tongue dove into her, and my hands curled around her waist, reminding her that I was here. “I’m so proud to call you mine,” I rasped against her lips.
Eva pulled back, her eyes shining. “W-What?”
“You’re amazing, Evangeline. And I will spend the rest of my miserable life showing you how much.”