Page 24 of Nevermore (A Cruel Love #1)

TWENTY-TWO

REIGN

“Put your foot on the brake!”

“Which one is the brake?”

“We went over this!”

“Why are you yellin’ at me?”

Santiago drops his head with a sigh and pinches the bridge of his nose. He lets out three even breaths, mumbling something I can’t hear, before looking back up at me. “Okay, are you ready to try again?”

I gulp. We’ve been sitting in Emiliano’s shiny red Corvette for about an hour as he tries to teach me how to drive.

I insisted that it wasn’t something I needed to know—even though I probably should—but he wouldn’t take no for an answer.

That’s led us to an abandoned parking lot where I’m hopelessly failing.

“This is hard,” I whine, dropping my forehead against the steering wheel. “Why is this car so hard to drive?”

“It’s an automatic,” he deadpans. “I don’t understand why you’re not getting this.”

I scowl in his direction. Even though he looks stupidly handsome today—all casual in dark jeans and a light blue T-shirt—I still want to throttle him. It was nice of him to offer this, but it’s useless. I have many talents and this isn’t one of them.

“ Querido ,” he mumbles after a minute, summoning his patience as he places his hand over mine. “Just take a deep breath. You can do this.”

“Can we just try this again later?” I ask, being too stubborn. “I’m hungry. You need to feed me.”

He shakes his head. “It has to be now.”

I wrinkle my brows at that. “Why?”

“Because—”

His cheeks redden as he cuts himself off. Completely intrigued, I lean closer to him, inhaling his crisp scent, and poke his cheek. “Because?”

“Because how else will you visit me when the summer’s over if you can’t drive?”

To this, my eyes widen. I didn’t realize that he’d want me to in the first place.

Honestly, I didn’t even think he cared enough about…

whatever this is. We haven’t even said what we are or elaborated on what we’re doing.

So far, we’re two dudes who like to hang out and kiss occasionally.

For fuck’s sake, I haven’t even made him come yet.

We’ve been experimenting and bickering and laughing and I thought that was it, but this brings out a newfound realization.

I want to visit him.

The knowledge that he’s moving away in less than two months hits me like a pile of bricks. It makes my breath catch and my fingers tighten on the steering wheel. The idea that I won’t see him everyday just makes me… sad.

“Oh,” I mumble, dropping my eyes down to my lap. “Right.”

“Right,” he repeats back, but it’s clipped and stilted. “So, are you going to fucking learn or not?”

He’s being cruel—which is nothing new—but with the time I’ve spent with him, I can see what’s underneath.

Underneath the cursing and the cruelty, the vulnerability is clear.

The same unease and longing that I hold are in his dark eyes, and I have to be the one to do something about that, because he’s far too stubborn to ever admit it.

I let out a deep breath and twine our fingers together. “Okay. How about we try again?”

His face brightens at that—so subtle but there—and he nods. “Remember what I showed you?”

He pulls his hand away so I can shift the car into drive. Slowly letting off the brake, I switch over to the gas pedal and put the barest of pressure down. Like before, the car starts into a crawl. This is where I got stuck the first time. Accelerating like an old lady, we pick up speed.

“Okay,” Santiago says hesitantly. “Now just turn the steering wheel to the right.”

Holding my breath, I turn, but the car speeds up as I do. I panic but Santiago’s warm hand on my shoulder has me letting out a calming sigh.

“Good job, querido ,” he coos, rubbing my upper back. “Now, slow to a stop so we don’t hit the pole.”

I nod. I can do this. It really isn’t that difficult.

“Okay, Reign. Step on the brake.”

Totally. Why not? It’s just…

“Which one is it?”

His eyes widen as we inch closer and closer to the pole. “We went over this!”

“I forgot!” I yell back, watching our impending demise. “Santi!”

“Reign, stop the fucking car before we?—”

Too late.

I do the only thing I can remember and put the car into park. We rush outside and around to the front to assess the damage. It’s not like I hit the pole at full speed, but we definitely had enough force behind it to dent the front bumper.

I wince as I turn to Santiago. “Um… Sorry?”

He’s staring at the damage, nostrils flaring, and doesn’t look at me as he speaks, “Question or fucking statement, Reign?”

“Sorry,” I correct quickly as I wring my fingers. “But you were yelling, and it all happened so quickly, and?—”

I’m violently cut off as I’m thrown back-first onto the hood of the car.

I open my mouth to ask what the fuck he’s thinking, but I can’t speak as his lips crash against mine.

There’s a sort of feral hunger to this embrace that’s been absent lately.

We’ve been sweet and docile—nice to each other—but I forgot what Santiago kisses like when he’s pissed.

It’s so fucking hot.

“I-I’m sorry,” I stutter out again when he pulls away, afraid that he might stop if I don’t apologize.

His eyes are like fire as he starts working at my zipper. “Sorry? That’s all you’re going to say? You nearly killed yourself and that’s it?”

Well, that’s a gross exaggeration if I’ve ever heard one.

Once again, I go to speak, but gasp instead as he yanks down both my pants and boxers all in one go.

I’m completely startled by the way he drops to his knees in front of me and spreads my thighs apart.

Despite feeling vulnerable in this position, my dick plumps up in a second.

“Why couldn’t you just fucking listen?”

“Because— Santi !”

I cry out his name. I practically scream it. I twitch and whimper and moan because holy shit, my balls are in his mouth.

He had absolutely no chill. He dove right in without a second thought.

I have no idea what’s come over him, but he’s stroking my cock at such a fevered pace as he rolls my balls against his tongue.

I’m so taken aback I don’t even care that we’re out in the open where anyone can see us.

Somehow, it makes it infinitely hotter, and pushes me closer towards the edge than I’d like to admit.

“S-Santi,” I stutter, digging my fingers into his hair to pull him back. “I’m gonna come if you keep that up.”

He pops off my balls with an audible slurp that’s too sexy for its own good. With a look of pure evil intention, he drags his tongue up my length until he can flick it against the precum leaking from the head. “Then come. Come for me, querido . Be a good boy and fill me up.”

My eyes roll to the back of my head when he dives back down. I’ve never gotten a blow job, so I don’t know what to compare it to, but it’s definitely sloppy. There’s spit pooling in my crotch, and he keeps gagging every time he takes me too deep, but it’s perfect.

Because I never get off on the act alone. I’ve discovered that about myself with Santiago. It’s not about what he’s doing and how he looks—even though that’s a definite plus—but just about being here in the moment with him.

So, I lull my head back and embrace it. Besides dry humping, this is another first for us. We’ll never have this again, so I’m going to enjoy it.

He comes up for air with a gasp, dark eyes just a bit vulnerable as he speaks, “Fuck my face.”

“What?” I gasp, still hard as a rock while he plays with my balls. “You want me to?—”

“Fuck my face,” he insists, dragging me off the hood of the car until I’m standing. He places his elegant hands on my thighs and looks up at me in desperation. “Please, querido . I need you to fuck me until I choke. I need you to show me just how mine you are.”

“Yours,” I whisper back, stroking the top of his head. I bite my bottom lip and hesitate, even though my body wants nothing more than to give him what he’s asking for. “Are you sure?”

“Do you need me to beg?”

Holy fuck that would be hot, but I won’t make him do that. He’s already on his knees, he’s already practically pleading, and I’d be a dumbass to not give into him. Even though I’m nervous, Santiago gives me the strength to be bold and brave.

I nod and cup his face. “Just… I dunno. Let me know if I’m doin’ it wrong?”

“I don’t think that’s possible,” he jokes, looking more boyish than he ever has before. “I can take it.”

“Okay,” I mumble. Taking in a deep breath, I ease my way into his waiting mouth, but he grunts in frustration. “I’m sorry, I dunno what to— Ow! Son of a bitch! Did you just bite my dick?”

With a shit-eating grin, he runs his tongue along his top teeth and smirks. “What are you going to do about it?”

I’ll fucking show him.

Without giving it a second thought, I slam into his mouth with so much force, he gags.

Something comes over me. Something darker and deeper than anything I’ve ever felt before.

It’s not true rage—not even close—but like a kind of darkness I can play with.

A kind of fearlessness that I can switch on and off at my command.

Santiago doesn’t just make me bold and brave.

He makes me strong .

He’s making these insanely sexy choking sounds as I abuse his throat.

All the hesitancy and insecurity I felt fly out the window as I feel him contract around me.

I still don’t have the best stamina, so after a few thrusts, I’m so close that I have to say something. “On your face or down your throat?”

I go to pull out so he can answer, but what he wants is evident as he latches his hands onto my ass to keep me there. Unable to hold back any longer, I come down his throat with a growl, giving slow little thrusts as I fill him with my cum.

When I pull back, there are remnants on his lips that he licks up greedily. Then he does something I don’t expect.

He reaches for me.

But he doesn’t reach for me to return the favor, or to even help him stand. He reaches for me and winds his arms around my waist, burying his face against my stomach as he lets out uneven and choppy breaths. I’m so stunned, I don’t move for a minute, but my instincts kick in a second later.

I hold him as he comes down from wherever he went.

I’m not sure what to do, so I do what I can.

I brush his soft hair back and away from his face while I tell him how good that was for me and how I can’t wait to do it again.

After a minute, he gathers himself and stands, but when I reach for his pants, he slaps my hand away. “No?”

“No,” he says simply, a sweet smile on his face as he pecks my lips. “That was for you.”

I blush and feel a little guilty. “Are you sure?”

“Are you ready for that?”

I can’t answer his question. Mostly because I don’t think I am, but I don’t want to admit it. Instead, I look at my shoes, but that’s enough for him. He pulls me against him and kisses the top of my head. “It’s okay, querido . There’s no rush. We have time.”

But, at this moment, no amount of time seems like enough.