Page 119 of Carnal Games

Kian has becomemyshadow.

Chapter Thirty-One

Kian

“I’ll get out of your hair.”

How dare she say that when she can barely walk, staring up at me with her tear-stricken face while suffering pain because I couldn’t protect her?

Today, she chooses to be considerate, but not when I was kicking her out at every chance before. Now that she’s sunk her claws into me like the siren she is, she wants to run.

Fat chance in hell of that happening.

The doorbell rings.

Sauntering to the front door, I wrench it open and startle the young delivery boy standing outside. Before he can get two words in, I’m snatching the bag from his hand, slapping the tip against his palm and slamming the door shut.

I don’t understand what I’m more furious at.

The fact that I’ve got my brother’s fiancée in my home, practically naked in those tiny shorts and T-shirt that sticks toher tits too distractingly or that the tears she cried, all lost and broken, made me want to burn the world to the ground.

It’s sickening that I’m lusting after a woman practically half my age, let alone one who’s off-limits to me.

I can have any woman I want, but my stupid head and dick have chosen her. The little siren. Too bad I can’t even fuck her out of my system.

Irony is a bitch.

However, is it the thrill of wanting what I can’t have that’s evoking such a need? I don’t think so.

I’ve been dead inside for a long time. Iris is making me feel.

That’s dangerous for her.

Even more terrifying is the diabolical urge to steal her from Nathan, consequences be damned. I’ve tried to ignore it, but I’ve caught Iris’s gaze lingering on my face and my body one too many times, far longer than is appropriate.

Is she attracted to me, too, and stuck in denial like I was?

Could she possibly desire me?

Do I even want her to? I’m not a commitment type of guy. I’ve never been in a relationship. I haven’t got a clue what love is. Even if Nathan wasn’t in the picture, she told me herself that she envisions a husband, kids, and a marriage in the future. It was plain as day how much she yearns for her dream family.

I’ll never be able to give her these things.

I’m only capable of giving endless pleasure and fucking her with no strings attached before my dick gets bored and I spit her out.

The women I’ve been with in the past could handle it.

Iris won’t. Nor will I ever put her in a position where she has to. The thought repulses me. So, it’s best if I curb my desire and infatuation until I catch the man who harmed her or until Nathan returns to claim her and takes her back to where she belongs—with him.

Loosening my unnecessarily harsh grip on the bag as I enter the kitchen, I dump it on the island.

Unlike her, I don’t know how to cook. It’s not a skill I had time or resources to learn. When I did have both, I was too set in my ways. Plus, hiring a chef was way easier than wasting energy trying to learn.

Hoping she likes sandwiches, I make her a plate along with fresh orange juice since she doesn’t drink coffee, which is all I have at my place. I carry it to her room.

She sits up against the headboard after hearing my footsteps. My fingers tighten around the plate when she winces a little but tries to hide it behind a smile. Her right cheek is swollen due to the dark, purplish bruise around her eye.

Every time I see it, it’s like someone is plunging a blade into my heart and twisting it until there’s nothing but a bleeding hole left.