Page 62
Story: Princes of Chaos
My dick’s been known to reduce women to that before.
Giving me a tight smile, she finishes, “So I can see how dangerous it can be.”
I stare at her, but there’s no need to tell the Princess that Lex turns into a roaming, impulsive, sex-starved beast in the middle of the night. The lock thing became imperative after a particularly bad situation at our old house in the golden row–the strip of townhouses that houses PNZ. That whole incident almost landed him in an adjoining cell with Pace.
All this sex stuff… it wasn’t a problem when he was on the Scratch. Sure, he had other side effects. The paranoia, insomnia, loss of appetite, constant itching. But his dick worked like a goddamn pro exactly when he wanted it to. Everything changed when he went cold turkey.
I can still hear the sound of Mitchell’s girlfriend fighting him off. Her screams. Jesus.Piercing. I’m good with rough sex–even when the consent is a little iffy–but crawling into bed with your frat brother’s girlfriend and raw dogging her in the middle of the night? That’s a hard violation of not just the bro-code, but of the Psi Nu Pact.
It took three of us to drag him off her, and if Lex weren’t legally an Ashby, then god knows what would have happened. Father paid the girl off, and I put a lock on the door. I’ve spent the last year securing it every night.
Thisis the shit Pace missed out on.
The shit Idon’tblame him for.
The car pulls up to the house, and I get out before the pledge has a chance to open the door, giving him a dirty look when he offers her his hand. Danner, ever present like the sleepless vampire he is, meets me just as Verity climbs out of the car.
“Hope your evening was well,” he says, taking her in.
“Splendid,” I say, shrugging off my coat and tossing it at him.
“Did the Princess not have a wrap?” he asks, something pointed in his tone. His eyebrow lifts, his head nodding at my jacket.Shit.
“We left in a hurry,” she says, rubbing her arms.
“She’s fine,” I say, striding toward the steps. “I warmed her up before we left.”
Danner, a third-generation butler, remains stone-faced at my quip. I’d get pissed about his implication, but Danner is probably the closest thing we have to a mother. Who do you think drove us to all those lessons and practices? Certainly not Father.
This time I take the lead, not wanting to test my will with the sight of her bare pussy on the way up the stairs. We pass Pace’s door, then Lex’s, the new keypad firmly in place. The Princess is observant, I’ll give her that.
Could be a problem.
When she reaches her door, hand reaching out for the golden knob, I sneak in behind her, covering her wrist. “My turn,” I whisper.
Freezing, she spins slowly, meeting my gaze. “For?” she asks, her eyes full of wariness.
I've probably done this a thousand times, but it never gets old. First, a glance down at her lips as I hem her in against the door. Not threatening, just… imposing. Letting her assess my size, just like back on the landing in the Nu Zoo.
“A kiss goodnight,” I say, keeping my voice measured in the silence of the hall. “I did give you one.”
“Oh.” Her cheeks blush as she remembers my ‘kiss’, and those nipples peak again. Fuck, thosenipples. Are they big? Brown? Pink? Whatever they are, they’re taunting me beneath her sweater, all stiff and obvious. I didn’t spend nearly enough time on her body tonight. My bad.
There’s a stretch of time where she gazes up at me, shoulders too stiff, but I just keep moving my gaze from her lips to her eyes. It takes her longer to get it than I’d expect, the tension swelling. When it finally clicks, some of the steel in her spine goes limp.
“Oh,” she says again, dropping her gaze.
That’s right.
You come to me.
With a short sigh, she tips her head back, straining up on her toes. The first brush of her lips against mine is stilted, inexperienced, but that’s to be expected. I reach up to gently touch the underside of her chin, holding her still as I lick out, meeting her hesitant tongue.
I never got Forsyth’s hard-on for virgins. There’s nothing fun about having to walk a woman through every step of her own pleasure. Give me a whore any day. Verity kisses like she’s expecting to get punched, and I’m not sure which corner of Forsyth is responsible for that. Maybe that’s how they do it in West End, aggressively over-physical even during something like this. Or maybe her throning was just that bad, something that makes her flinch at the thought of my mouth on hers.
Either way, it takes a hot minute for the glide of my tongue against hers to do its magic. Slowly, she begins licking back, the kiss slick and unhurried as I wind an arm around her waist. By the time I pull back, my lips dragging against hers wetly, her eyes are hooded and dazed.
Fuck.
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