Page 12 of Fractured Loyalties

Twelve

IVY

Kade leads me to literally the darkest corner of the library, lit only by a sliver of moonlight that breaks through the curtains. He tucks a piece of hair behind my ear, his fingers brushing my cheek.

“You’re so beautiful, Ivy,” he says, his voice slightly slurred. Then he leans in, slow and gentle, and kisses me.

It’s not the best kiss I’ve ever had, but it’s soft, warm, and it sends a shiver of excitement down my spine. I lean into him, my hands clutching at his suit jacket, my body pulsing with want and anticipation and something else.

His fingers find the hem of my dress, and he tugs it upward. “Will you let me?” he breathes, his mouth almost on mine.

“Yes,” I say, my voice thick with something that isn’t quite want but isn’t denial either. My mind races to the last time I touched myself—to thoughts of Roman.

I grab for Kade then, and pull his lips to mine in a mess of needing to erase the scenery in my head. Kade leans into my mouth, and the kiss isn’t slow at all. It’s fast and hungry, his tongue bruising my teeth. I taste whiskey and mint, with a hint of something sweeter, possibly orange liqueur.

Given the way my head is spinning, I’m not sure I’ll be able to keep up… His hands are everywhere at once. They’re on my hips, my ass, and the tiny clasp at the back of my neck. I let him pull me closer, let the world shrink to the heat of his chest and the scrape of his stubble on my jaw.

I want to enjoy it. I want to be the kind of girl who says yes and means it, who doesn’t count the seconds between each new touch. But there’s a flicker at the back of my skull, like a warning siren I can’t quite hear.

What is wrong with me?

I try to focus on his hands and the way he is exploring my body as if he’s mapping out a country he already owns. When he finds the zipper at the side of my dress, he stops.

He looks me dead in the eye. “It’s not a big deal if you don’t want to,” he says, and for a second, he sounds as if he means it.

“I do,” I lie, because it’s easier than explaining the static in my head—and the fact I can’t get Roman’s glare out of my drunken mind.

Then, Kade kisses me again, harder this time, while pushing me back until my shoulders ache against the shelves.

I lose track of his hands, lose track of everything but the taste of vodka and the pulse of his mouth on my skin.

He slides the dress up my thigh, fingers tracing the lace edge of my panties.

I shiver, but not from cold.

He laughs into my ear, low and dirty. “You’re shaking.”

I want to say something clever, but the words tangle on my tongue. I’m drunk, that’s why I feel like this. But I just nod and let him move my hand to his belt. The leather is warm from his body. My fingers tremble as I fumble with the buckle, and he laughs again, but not unkindly.

“Want me to do it?” he says, and before I can answer, he’s already freed himself, pushing his jeans just low enough. He presses my hand to his cock, and I flinch at the heat of it, the slick tip already leaking.

For a second, I freeze. But then I remember what it feels like to be alone, and to have no one’s hands on me, so I close my fist around him, just like he wants.

He groans, grinding into my palm. “Oh, Ivy, you’re so fucking pretty.”

The words make me want to cry, but I don’t. I stroke him, slowly at first, then harder as he sets the rhythm. He hikes my dress to my waist, hooks a thumb in my panties, and pulls, the fabric digging into my hip until it snaps free.

Then, he spins me around suddenly, and I reach for the shelves to steady myself. However, my head is spinning so hard now that I can barely put together what’s happening around me.

And why Kade’s not touching me anymore.

“What the fuck?” I hear Kade’s voice erupt from somewhere behind me. Something slams from behind me, but I can’t let go of the shelves, terrified that I’ll fall.

I squeeze my eyes shut in the dark, trying to steady my breaths and get ahold of myself.

Just breathe for a moment, I tell myself. I count to ten in my head, and then try to straighten up. But my knees give, and I feel myself sliding downward.

Until I’m not.

Hands land on my hips. “Easy,” a voice voice breathe, a cheek resting against my temple. “I’ve got you.” The deep huskiness of the voice blurs in my mind, and a wave of arousal I don’t understand pours over me.

Suddenly, I want something inside of me.

I thrust my hips back before he can pull my dress down, grinding against the man holding me. “ Please,” I whimper, grinding against him.

“Do you want me to fuck you?” he whispers.

“Yes.” I nod, desperation building.

There’s a moment of silence, then the hesitant unzipping, and finally the pressure of something against my opening.

He swipes the head of his cock up and down through my slit, letting out a low growl.

“There’s no going back once we do this.” His voice is still in a whisper, and my legs tremble against him.

“I know,” I murmur, and surprise myself by pressing back into him with more force. “I don’t care, just fuck me.”

He lets out a groan, and plunges deep inside of me.

I cry out, but a hand comes down over my mouth, muffling the sound. I brace against the shelves as he pounds into the back of me. His body pumps into mine and it’s pure heat, burning me from the inside out. He fucks me hard, his hips slapping my ass, his breath ragged in my ear as he leans over.

“Oh my God,” I gasp, my pussy clenching around his shaft. I can barely contain the orgasm, and as I shut my eyes and barrel toward the peak…

I see him.

Fucking Roman. In my mind, it’s him who’s driving me over the edge, in a pure, shameful rush.

Wait, who is fucking me? Kade?

But it’s too late to stop now.

“Roman,” I breathe out the name as I explode, my pussy soaking the cock of someone I assume is so much safer, and so much less… wrong.

The guy must feel me coming undone, because he lets out a hiss, and slams in deeper and more complex, chasing his own release.

“Little Lamb,” he mutters, as his body spasms against mine. As he comes, he bites down on my shoulder, hard enough to leave a mark.

The pain snaps me back to myself, and I realize I’m crying, silent tears dripping onto my white knuckles.

I’m so fucked up. I just let some guy fuck me while I thought about my… stepbrother.

He pulls out, leaving a mixture of us to run down my leg. The warmth of his body being removed from mine leaves me cold, and the silence settling behind me is absolutely deafening.

“Kade… I… we shouldn’t have…” I struggle to put together my thoughts as I finally find it in me to straighten up, and then, using the shelves, spin around to face him.

But the eyes I meet are not Kade’s.

Oh fuck. Oh fuck, fuck, fuck!

“What did we just do?” I exasperate, my heart pounding in the side of my head while Roman seems unbothered. He’s carefully putting his dick away, as if what we just did isn’t absolutely atrocious.

“Ivy, I had no idea a pussy could feel so good,” Roman says, his voice husky with arousal. “It’s a shame Kade didn’t get to enjoy that, but I couldn’t let that happen.”

I jerk my dress down, mortified. “Where… Where is he?”

He furrows his brow, his face suddenly a mix of concern and something else. “Did you think it was… him? Because I heard my name on your lips.”

“No,” I say, though I’m suddenly unsure of what exactly happened here. “That’s not… I didn’t… He… This… It doesn’t matter what I said. This was wrong.”

Roman frowns at me, tilting his head. “Well, Ivy, I hate to break it to you, but you’re not really family.” With that, he lets out an insidiously chilling laugh.

I glare at him. “Get away from me.”

“But did you like it?”

“It doesn’t matter,” I throw back at him, suddenly more sober than ever. “I hate you.”

He blinks at me, a shift in his face difficult to read. His lips part, and he takes a step back from me, before turning and leaving me there.

I watch him go, suddenly wishing I’d have asked him to stay.

And as bile rises in my throat, I wonder what the hell I’ve just done.