Kasien #2
“Is this okay?” She whispers against my lips.
My breath is shattering as I nod and sink my fingers into her ass, the heat from her touch spilling everywhere in my body.
It’s my Kiara. She’s here. Nobody else.
My dick is twitching from the pleasure, from her touch, and I can’t stop my lap from slightly rocking into her hands as I’m getting on the edge. Her lips are chasing my jaw, my neck.
The hot pressure settles down in my spine. I grip a fistful of her hair and drag her back to my face.
“Eyes on me,” I whisper against her lips as she keeps on touching me so nicely.
“You’re gonna drive me insane,” I croak out, the euphoria snapping inside me.
I feel the heat running through my dick, quickly grab my shirt lying next to me, and catch the cum in it so it doesn’t spill on her dress.
Her hand slows down the movement, her mouth twisting into a smile against my lips.
I throw the shirt away and grip her cheeks in both my hands, kissing her so intensely, like I need to suck the air out of her lungs.
She collapses on me, lying on my chest, listening to my raging heartbeat as I hold her and play with the wavy strands in my fingers.
I didn’t see anyone but her. It was all just my Kiara.
Maybe I’m not that fucked up yet. Not with her at least.
I smile as I stare at the dark sky, her whole body weighing me down on the wooden dock.
This is so perfect. I wish this feeling could be injected into my veins. I wouldn’t hesitate and get high on it.
?
It’s almost midnight. Her bare feet are hanging out from the car window, flying in the summer night air. Her head is in my lap as she stares up at me and music is playing from the car speakers, mixed with sounds of waves hitting the shore next to my car.
“You’re my girl now. You know that, right?” I tell her and she widens her eyes in shock.
“You’re supposed to ask me that!”
“But then you could say no.”
“Yeah, it’s called free will. Sounds familiar to you?” she snaps at me.
“Not really.”
“You’re an idiot.”
“I take that as a yes.”
She rolls her eyes but I can see that tiny smile.
That was definitely a yes.
?
I inhale the skin on her neck once more before she gives me one gentle goodbye kiss and opens the car door.
I sit there, watching her walk inside her house as I let my body fall back in the seat, turning the music up.
Wicked Game is playing, the same song from the day she came to me for the first time—the memory engraved in my mind starts unraveling again.
I’m so high from whatever this is.
I finally get on the road, already counting how many hours until tomorrow evening.
The darkened trees on the side of the road turn into a blur as I drive and I can’t shake the smile off my face, until I arrive at the driveway gate to the mansion and my heart sinks deep into my gut as I see the huge black SUV in front of the house.
The Varners are already here.
I park and get out, stepping into the lobby, immediately seeing that the light is on in the kitchen. I slowly walk in and see Sylvia and Rick both sitting by the kitchen island. Both of their eyes snap to me, deadly.
Fuck.
She doesn’t hesitate.
“You sent a male escort to Victoria’s house today,” she states, her eyes burning a hole in me.
“Really hot one, already paid for. Where’s the problem?” I answer, trying to act unbothered but I know I’m dead.
Rick stands up from the bar stool with that slow, deliberate posture he uses only when he’s about to make something hurt.
His chair scrapes against the marble floor, sharp enough to cut through the silence. I don’t move. Moving only makes it worse. He stops right in front of me. Close enough that I can smell his cologne mixed with cigarette smoke and the cold metal scent of whatever gun he’s carrying today.
“Try that smart mouth again,” he mutters.
I open my mouth anyway because I never learn, but he’s faster. His fist slams into my jaw so hard my vision bursts white. My head snaps sideways, teeth clacking together, and metallic warmth floods my tongue instantly. Blood. I don’t even know if it came from my teeth, my lip, or somewhere deeper.
“Not the face, Rick,” Sylvia’s voice slices through the room, sharp enough to stop him mid-movement, but unbothered at the same time.
Rick exhales through his nose, annoyed, then he grabs me by the collar and shoves me back into the wall so fast my shoulder blades slam against it.
“Fine,” he growls.
The next punch lands in my ribs. Then another.
Pain detonates behind every hit. My breath tears in and out of my chest in short, useless gasps.
He doesn’t even need much force, he knows exactly where to strike to make it feel like I’m breaking from the inside.
A kick catches me in the hip and I drop to my knees.
My palms hit the cold tile. I spit blood onto the floor. Rick crouches just enough to grab the back of my hair and yank my head up, so I’m forced to look at him, blood mixed with saliva pouring from my mouth.
“You’re property of Vermilion,” he says, voice low, calm—the worst kind of calm. “And you embarrassed us tonight.”
I don’t answer. Anything I say will get me hit again. It’s almost ironic how trained I am to fight, but now that I want to, I can’t. I can’t do anything. He lets go of my hair and stands, wiping his knuckles on a dish towel like I’m something he accidentally spilled.
Sylvia’s heels clap against the marble floor as she comes to me, dragging something.
I finally see that her fist is full of curly hair as she drags Adrien to me and throws him at my feet like he’s a bag of trash.
I immediately jump to him. His face is almost unrecognizable, bloody and swollen.
He’s breathing, but shallow. Blood is pouring from at least three places on his face.
I grab him in my arms and hold him against me as we lie scattered on the floor. I tenderly take his face but he’s limp from all the pain. My eyes start to burn as I look at him, all ruined and defeated. Sylvia finally glances at me—slow, assessing, clinical.
“Next time,” she says, “try to remember the consequences.”
I nod once because if I try to speak, I’m going to choke on more blood. Rick walks off and she’s following him, then she turns to me once more.
“I told Victoria you disgusting piece of shit got chlamydia. She doesn’t want to see you ever again. Congrats,” she snaps and leaves.
That’s actually the perfect idea. Why didn’t I think of that?
I’ll never see Victoria again. Or any of them. I’ll never let them whore me out ever again. Even if it breaks me in the process.
I drop my head back to Adrien, take off my T-shirt and try to dry the blood on his face so I can see where it’s coming from. He coughs, finally giving a sign that he’s alive.
The kitchen is dead quiet now, the marble floor cold under us. The stink of blood and the faint scent of Sylvia’s perfume still lingering in the air.
Somewhere far away, a door closes. A car engine starts. They’re leaving us here like trash.
Adrien’s breathing evens out—not good, not steady, just calmer than before. He leans forward and spits out blood, then finally mumbles something.
“Nat,” he chokes out and spits another mouthful of blood.
I quickly take my phone out of my pocket and call her. She picks up immediately.
“Where are you?” I ask her urgently.
“In my room, what’s happening?”
Thank God.
“She’s fine,” I mumble to Adrien and he just gives me a nod.
“Come to the kitchen,” I tell her and hang up.
She comes running and drops to her knees next to Adrien, taking him from me. She starts to cry, mumbling something.
“Stop crying, I’m fine,” he mutters, then chokes on blood again. I see she’s doing something, getting first aid, helping him. So I rest my back against the wall, looking at them.
This is my fault. As fucking always.
Just one more year and they’ll be out.