Page 13 of Confession (Constantine Brothers #2)

ELEVEN

Quinn

I hate myself. I really do.

That’s the only thought I have for a long while as I lie in bed with Vitali’s cum inside me. I hate that I showed him that desperate, dark part of myself that needs to be dominated. I hate that I froze up after.

I can’t imagine what he thinks.

I squeeze my eyes shut as I imagine having to face him tomorrow. Usually, if I do something like this, it’s with someone I know I’ll never see again.

Jesus, I could’ve had sex with him without letting him see this part of me.

But no. I really couldn’t have. Because the way he counterbalances me, the way what I need fits with what he is, is half the reason I’ve been in love with him for years.

He fucked me so good. It took me out of myself, released so much pressure inside me. That’s why I’m fucked up now, drained.

But I’m ashamed that he saw me like that.

I don’t clean myself up with the cloth he brought me. I want his cum inside me.

I want him with me, even though I couldn’t handle it. I did need him to leave, and he saw that. He’s probably angry with me. He probably thinks I’m … god, I don’t know.

I don’t think I want to know.

***

By morning, I’ve mostly gotten my shit sorted out. I clean up and put on workout clothes and head to the gym. I’m relieved to find it empty.

I start out on the treadmill, but I’m so sore that I mostly walk. I lift a little bit, then I go back to my room to shower—and find my door open. And Vitali at my table again.

I freeze in the doorway, staring at him sitting so comfortably in my space like he did last night. This time, he’s wearing jeans and a t-shirt and looks sexy in a completely different way.

“You can’t just come in here,” I tell him. When he opens his mouth, I add quickly, “And don’t you dare say that this is your house, so you can go in any room you want.”

“I wasn’t going to say that.”

“So you know you’re trespassing.”

“I’d call it invading your privacy, but yes.”

I exhale forcefully and walk into the room, closing the door pointedly behind me.

“I left it open so you’d know I was in here.”

“How nice of you.”

His lips quirk. “You’re such a black cat sometimes.”

“A black cat?”

He shifts in the chair as I walk past him to the sink. “Wary. Bristly. Annoyed when people try to pet you.”

“For fuck’s sake.” I fill a glass and drain it, keeping my back to him.

“You’ve surely heard of people being referred to as black cats? You know, there’s the black cat and the golden retriever.”

I turn and stare at him. “And are you supposed to be the golden retriever?”

He shrugs. “I can be friendly.”

“Bullshit.”

“I can be easygoing.”

“Bull shit .”

“Spoken like a true black cat.”

“Oh, fuck off.”

He smiles broadly, fucking beautifully. His dark eyes dance wickedly but he doesn’t say what’s completely obvious: that I’m proving his point.

“Fuck off,” I mutter again, but this time I can’t help the huff of amusement that accompanies it.

I snag the coffeepot from my mini percolator and fill it at the sink, mostly because I need something to do.

“Was I right to leave last night?” Vitali asks.

My heart skips. “Yes.”

“Are you sure?”

“I couldn’t have talked to you last night, and I know that’s what you wanted.”

“Can you talk to me today?”

I find a coffee filter and put it in the basket. “I never thought in a million years that you’d be like this.”

“You’re so bad about evading questions,” he complains. “You want me to ask what you mean by ‘like this,’ so you can make this about me. But what I want is for you to answer my question. Can you talk to me today?”

I cross my arms, uncomfortable. “I’m sorry, okay? I don’t know why I got like that.”

“You don’t?”

His doubt annoys me. I was being honest.

“Okay,” he says, reading my face. “I believe you. Should we not have done that?”

Panic spikes. Fuck. I knew this was going to happen. I got one night, one fucking night, and I ruined it.

Vitali is out of his chair and moving my way. I tense automatically, but when he’s right in my space and reaches to the back of my head, threading his fingers into my hair and gripping firmly, I relax.

I hate that I need to be dominated like this, but I do. I fucking do.

Vitali says quietly, “I need to know that you’re okay.”

“I’m okay.”

“You shut down last night.”

“Yeah.”

“I’ve never seen you shut down like that.”

“You’ve never fucked me before,” I point out.

“Does sex always do that to you?”

“You got pissed last night when I mentioned past sexual partners.”

“You’re twisting things a bit, but that’s basically true. Fine, then. No talking about past sexual partners. I don’t want to think about you with anyone else.”

“Let go of my hair.”

“No, you answer me better when I have physical control of you. You’re calmer.”

Shame creeps through me—and he fucking sees it.

“Oh, Quinn. No.”

My throat tightens. Fuck. Don’t you dare fucking cry, you fucking pussy.

I elbow him away from me, forcing him to either fight me or let go. He lets go. I open the coffee can and start spooning coffee into the filter. I lose count so I add a few more scoops. I snap the thing shut and hit the button.

“You’d feel this way too,” I tell him, “if our positions were reversed.”

He sidesteps that because I’m not the only one who evades points they don’t want to discuss. He puts it straight back on me.

“Quinn, I loved fucking you like that. But I hate that you hated it afterwards.”

“I didn’t hate it afterwards. I’m just …”

“Just what?”

My insides are all twisted up. This is so fucking hard. I cross my arms. “I’m just not used to seeing people the next day.”

A muscle feathers in his jaw. He’s torn because he wants to press this point, but he can’t without digging into past experiences.

He walks to my minifridge and opens it. He gets out the half-and-half, which I use but he doesn’t. He sets it on the counter.

“You’re gonna have to get used to it,” he says.

“Get used to what?”

“Seeing me the next day.”

A huge breath stutters into my lungs. My head goes light.

I was so braced for rejection that I’m completely unprepared for that, and I obviously don’t hide it well.

Vitali moves into my space again. This time, I want him there.

Mostly. I do but I don’t. Like last night, I feel very exposed and that’s very hard for me.

But Vitali puts his hands on my sides, thumbs stroking, fingers going down to my waistband. Blood flows to my cock. He leans in and starts kissing my neck. My body curves toward him.

He whispers as he nibbles at me, “Did you really think I wasn’t going to want to fuck you again? Do you have any idea how many times I’ve gotten hard thinking about it?”

My arms uncross and I put my hands on his hips, pulling him into me until his stiffening dick is brushing mine.

“I loved fucking you,” he tells me. “Being inside you, feeling you, hearing you, watching you. I loved having my hand on your cock.” His hand slips between our bodies to cup me through my warmups. “I had no idea,” he marvels.

I relax. “So you like cock.”

“I like cock. Yours at least.”

That catches my attention. “Just mine?”

“I honestly don’t know, but I don’t care about finding out.”

A worm of doubt wriggles through my brain. No, it’s not doubt. It’s a reminder of what I already knew. He’s experimenting.

Vitali likes novelty, and that’s what I am right now.

I can’t lose sight of that, not when this is so dangerous for me, so fucking dangerous that I shouldn’t be doing it.

There is no way he could ever really want me, but it’s a lie that would be tempting to tell myself.

I have to protect myself against that. He could destroy me.

I wouldn’t survive it. I wouldn’t want to.

But there’s no way I can say no to him. I’ve craved him for years. His attention. His touch. The attention I’m having a hard time with, but his touch…

I close my eyes and tilt my head, giving him fuller access to my neck. I let my hands roam toward his ass as he reaches into my warmups to curl his hand around my cock. I make a pathetic, desperate sound as he strokes me. He reaches lower and starts massaging my balls, rolling them, exploring.

“Are you sore?” he asks.

“No,” I lie.

He bites my neck because he doesn’t believe me. I shudder in pleasure.

“I like pain,” I confess.

“You have to be honest with me.” He grips my hair again and pulls my head back, pulling me away. I watch him through half-lidded eyes. “I can handle the truth, but I can’t handle you lying to me.”

I shiver as ice water flows through my veins. His phone buzzes from his back pocket. He ignores it. His grip on my balls tightens. “Do you understand?”

“Your phone,” I say as it keeps buzzing.

“I’m not forgiving, Quinn.”

“I know that.”

His grip on my balls eases. He tugs them. “I really like this.”

His phone keeps buzzing. “Vitali.”

He makes a sound of frustration and releases me. I gasp at the sudden absence of stimulation. Vitali’s dark eyes flick to mine as he pulls out his phone and answers it.

“Yeah, Joe.” His free hand returns to my cock, lightly stroking me through my warmups again. My eyes drift shut.

Vitali makes a grumbling sound as he listens to Joe. I can’t make out what Joe’s saying, and I’m having trouble paying attention with Vitali’s hand stroking my cock. He reaches inside my pants again and uses his thumb to rub my precum all over my cockhead.

“Jesus fuck,” I mutter. My hands grip the counter on either side of my hips.

“Where?” Vitali asks. “Hm. Send me the location. Yes.”

Vitali ends the call and returns his phone to his back pocket.

“Wha …” My thoughts are difficult to gather with Vitali teasing my cockhead likes he’s doing. “What’s going on?”

“I’m gonna make you come.”

Keeping his hand on my cock, Vitali pulls me away from the counter until I’m leaning into him. His other hand slides into my warmups to knead my ass as he uses my precum to slick me.

My arms curl around him as he starts nibbling at my neck and jaw and ear. I bite back a needy sound when his finger finds my hole. He massages the soreness as he keeps stroking me.

I can’t think.

Usually, I don’t respond like this to gentle dominance, but he’s already broken down half my barriers.

He’s already opened me and made me vulnerable.

So my mind floats in the pleasure of his easy control of me.

He murmurs against me, seduces me. I’m already so close, so swollen and aching and primed.

So when he demands in my ear, “ Come ,” my body simply obeys him.

I cry out as my cock kicks in his hand, pumping out my hot release. His finger digs into my ass and he closes his teeth on the side of my neck, breathing hard against me as he milks me of every drop.

I go slack against him, shuddering through the aftershocks. He loosens his grip on my semi-hard cock but doesn’t let go. He breathes against me. He nuzzles me.

I want him. Fuck, I do. The desire is so powerful that I have to squeeze my eyes shut. I have to withdraw.

As I pull away from him, he releases his hold on my ass and my cock. But he kisses me as I go, his lips brushing mine.

He turns to the sink and washes his hands. Like last night, he dampens a cloth and hands it to me. His cock is hard in his jeans.

“I have to go,” he says.

My thoughts are a swirling mess, but I manage to ask, “What’s going on? I can get changed—”

“No. It’s not like that. You stay here.”

“Vitali—”

He crushes his lips to mine and really kisses me this time. He’s aggressive, invasive, his tongue sweeping into my mouth like it belongs to him.

It does.

But then he breaks away, says, “I’ll be back in a while,” and leaves.