Page 3 of Carnal Heart
Chapter two
Devyn
‘ I kind of like the thought of just lying there.’
Shock and lust reverberate through me at Zaiah’s words.
Zaiah.
He’s left an imprint on my brain since the moment I laid eyes on him. Obsession might not be a strong enough word. He’s perfect; a pretty little doll I want to own. And fuck, the way he desperately looked into the shadows and spilled those filthy words. It took every ounce of control to stop myself from storming over there and forcing him to his knees. Even now, I yearn to grip his fiery red hair, shove my thick cock down his throat, and see those vibrant emerald eyes tear up with wonder.
Would he just stay still and take it like he was hinting, or would he struggle to get away?
I palm my erection and sink further into the shadows as I watch him walk over to the bar with his friend.
Slipping back into that headspace where my world revolves around Zaiah Ruca is frighteningly easy. It’s why I forced myself to stop my obsessive tendencies in the first place. Even back then, there was something about Zaiah that had me captivated. At first, my curiosity led me to read his college transfer file before wanting more. Needing more.
So, I started following him. When my obsession with him pushed me to do more, I started dropping hints. I made my presence known. I wanted him to know he was being followed. Instead of cowering in fear like most people would do, he seemed to love the attention, constantly seeking me out in the darkness.
His curiosity matched mine.
Zaiah Ruca was my secret little addiction. Or at least he was—until he got himself a boyfriend and I thought he left the school. My pretty doll was like a drug I had to get out of my system. I thought I’d succeeded, but tonight just proves that one never truly gets over an obsession, do they?
I’m so focused on Zaiah’s flirtatious smiles and the way he keeps scanning the shadows that I almost miss the ding of my multi-slate, notifying me of an incoming message. I turn down my brightness, hoping Zaiah can’t see it from this distance if he glances back my way.
Illya: First one to tell me where he is gets my car.
An image of a handsome blond loads onto the screen, and a wide smile spreads across my face. Images of Zaiah’s wrists bound behind his back while he straddles me in Illya’s fancy car have me even harder now.
Before I can even reply, a new message comes through.
Illya: First one to touch him gets run over by my car.
Ah, so this pretty blond must be his Praeda. Interesting. I guess Illya and I are both participating this year.
Devyn: Don’t threaten me with a good time.
Illya immediately starts typing. I chuckle, sending off another message before he loses his damn mind.
Devyn: I’m joking. You know we all want that sweet ride of yours—and I do mean the car this time.
I scan the room until my eyes land on my current target. Snapping a photo, I hit send.
Devyn: He’s in the Game Room. Better hurry. You’re not the only one who seems to have taken a liking to him.
Before I can get lost in thoughts of Zaiah again, I push away from the wall and walk out the door.
Just as predicted, a few minutes later, Illya storms around the corner, causing me to smirk. He doesn’t even see me standing near the entrance, waiting for him. His sole focus is on getting to his Praeda inside the Game Room.
I throw my arm out in front of Illya just as he’s about to pass. “Not so fast, brother. What’s your hurry?”
Illya shoves me back a step and growls. “Move.”
Tsking, I chuckle and hold my hand out to my fellow Black Hart, palm up. “I think you owe me something?”
His head whips toward me. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“Oh, Illya. What’s got you on edge? Don’t tell me Praeda has you all worked up too?” I know damn well exactly what has Illya on edge. Illya’s prey is in that room chatting with another man. But I’m not worried. Illya didn’t see what I saw. Only what I wanted him to see.
“Enough games. What do you want?”
“Like I said, I think you owe me something.” I hold my hand out again and realization sparks in his mismatched eyes before he rolls them.
Illya shoves his hand in his pocket. He drops his car keys onto my open palm. “Happy?”
“Very,” I drawl. “Who knows? If I’m feeling generous, maybe I’ll sell it back to you after I take it for a ride.” Illya is one of the few people who know I’m trying to save enough money to get my mother and sister off this fucking planet. Just because I don’t want my father’s dirty money doesn’t mean I’m not willing to get my hands on my friends’ money. Not when they so generously throw it away.
Illya nods, and I’m pretty sure he understands what I’m not saying. “Are we done here?”
I smirk. “Not quite,” I reply, tracing my fingers over Illya’s dark red blazer and straightening his obsidian pin.
“Don’t worry, Hart. Our prey is in there, both eagerly waiting for us to make an appearance. We might as well make ourselves presentable.” With a wicked grin, I produce the hidden cloth mask from my blazer and slide it over my face.