Page 21 of Run, Starlight (The Royal Ballet Presents #3)

ENZO

“I’m not wet.” She’s quick to deny, but god, she’s a terrible liar.

“No, Marcella?” I tip my eyebrow at her. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.” But her voice shakes, and I have to bite back a smile.

“Well, then why not take the bet? It’s your freedom after all. You wouldn’t be wet for awful men like us, would you?”

That’s the part that my brother doesn’t understand.

The pretty ballerina has a twisted side.

If she was so innocent, she wouldn’t let him fuck her like he did.

She loves the danger, and she belongs to us.

Her fears are just an obstacle we’ll overcome quickly to make her whole again.

This is a bet I’m not worried about losing.

“I—” She stops to think about it. There really isn’t a right answer for her or a good way out of this, but fortunately, that’s not what she wants. What she wants is permission to say yes and fall into the darkness with me where she belongs .

“You want to leave us, don’t you?” I ask, and Lucky shifts me a glare, threatening me if I do anything rash, but he doesn’t know all my plans nearly as well as he thinks he does.

She nods her head, but she doesn’t meet my eyes. “Of course I do.”

“And we’ve already done all manner of nasty things together.”

My brother’s fist balls, but he won’t hit me again without it turning into a slug out.

“Enzo,” he growls. When did my brother become such a soft piece of shit that he’s upset about me calling what we’ve done nasty? Does he think it’s art? He hasn’t seen art yet. That will be when we’re both inside her. He has no idea what the final masterpiece will look like.

“Bend over and show us, Marcella.” I poke her.

She’s shaking, her eyes darting between us.

I have her right where I want. Anything she says is confirmation that my brother needs to understand that this girl isn’t made of light like he thinks.

She’s not a poor little lamb. Marcella herself doesn’t understand.

I see the confusion in her dark eyes, but that’s okay, I’ll explain.

She doesn’t accept her own power. That’s okay too. I’ll show her everything she’s capable of.

“Don’t ask her to do that,” Lucky growls between gritted teeth.

I chuckle, crouching down to look into her eyes. “Show us the true you. Whatever it is, don’t be scared. Predator, huh?”

She doesn’t know that while I faked the soft-mannered man she met, our conversation in the dark was one of the realest things I've ever said in my life. I spent too long being just like her, a scared little shit who depended too much on Lucky, until one day I understood my place in the world. My eyes opened, and I realized darkness sought me because I was part of it. She’s the same, and she’ll see it soon.

Something in my words lights a flame behind her eyes, and she tips her chin up, finally accepting my challenge as I always knew she would, as she’s destined to.

“Fine, you want to see that I’m not wet for you? Look for yourself.” She sucks her lip between her teeth, and there isn’t a chance in hell I believe her.

She places her hands on the bed as she obeys me and bends over.

She has the most elegant body I’ve ever seen.

The swells of her hips are so full and womanly despite how slender her figure.

Her ass forms the perfect shape of a heart and the curves of her thighs form a perfect keyhole, flashing me a view of her cunt.

Her eyes stay screwed up tight, and she seems to be focusing very hard on something.

I shake my head and flip up the bottom of the flimsy nightgown Lucky insisted on dressing her in.

She could stay naked every single day. There’s no one here to see what is ours.

Her round ass is so incredibly tempting I can scarcely believe my luck.

My hands slide over her bare cheeks; at least my brother didn’t put panties on her.

I smile and look at Lucky. His jaw is set, and he’s angry for some reason.

They were just talking when I got here, and now she has her ass up in the air—seems like a reason to be happy.

He should be thanking me.

I can tell she’s wet even before I dip two fingers into her heat.

She’s glistening, so fucking ready and pink for me.

She’s as soft as silk, but wet and succulent like ripe fruit as I peel her open.

My fingers dip into the flesh, slipping deep inside her.

She lets out a moan, and her raspy voice takes on a new cadence when she whimpers for me.

Her pussy grips my fingers, and the wetness she denied drips down the digits and pools in my palm like she is an overripe peach waiting to be plucked. I have to chuckle.

“I win,” I tell her, already drooling with the thought of licking all this delicious cream off her.

“Fuck you,” she tries cursing me, but it ends with a sinful moan when my fingers increase their speed, rubbing at the same rhythm but deeper, applying expert pressure.

I open my zipper. I don’t bother with underwear because I want my cock accessible for her at all times.

I never stop my fingers, and my cock bobs free.

“Enzo, don’t…” Lucky tries to argue with me but no one in the world can stop me from fucking her.

Marcella’s gaze finds him, and I can tell the moment their eyes connect. Her pussy tightens around my fingers, and rather than slamming into her like I’d like, I use the middle finger from my other hand and the two already inside her to spread her wide so my brother can see the willing wet pink.

“Fuck, Enzo.” She curses me again, and I throw my head back in a laugh.

“My brother can barely look at you because he's so turned on. How about I make things worse for him?” I ask.

I trade my fingers for my cock, and her slick wet heat is everything as it engulfs me. Poor Lucky wants this so badly, but he’s stuck up on his moral high horse where there is no pussy, just altitude sickness.

She milks my cock with all she has, muscles deep in her pelvis, the core of her being pumping in time with my thrusts, desperate to drain my balls inside her.

She’s so fucking perfect that I barely have the words to explain what she means to me.

I dreamed about this moment for a long time, but even in my wildest fantasies, I couldn’t understand how otherworldly destiny would feel around my cock .

She grunts like an animal as I fill the deepest parts of her, pushing out whatever light my brother sees to make room for her truth, the darkness waiting to take us all.

I fit behind her cervix, and I know this position might be too much, but she only shifts her hips to take me better.

I’m so deep inside her, I might wind up coming out her throat.

I carve my hands into her side, holding us together and fusing our beings.

I fuck her with my soul. I give her all that I have, allowing myself to become one with her, a marriage as binding as any laws man can impose upon you.

She deserves much more than just a fuck. She deserves poetry.

My hands slide from her hips to the perfect swells of her breasts.

Most dancers don’t have tits like this, and I palm them greedily, squeezing them like it’s their fault I’ve been denied their softness these past weeks.

Her nipples harden like pebbles under the thin material of her nightgown, her tits overfill my hands, and I’m a big man.

She cries as I play with them, liking this too much for a girl who wants to leave.

She moans low, unintelligible letters spilling past her lips like she’s trying to say something but not speaking up.

“You need to ask for what you want, Marcella. Tell me, and it’s yours. Stay quiet, and we’ll both come just like this.”

Another person might worry about her answer. What if she asked to leave with my dick this deep inside her? Could I even do it? Probably not, but I’m not concerned. I may not know what she’ll say, but fate will not disappoint me.

She doesn’t answer me, though. As a perfect servant of fate, she tips her head to Lucky. “I want to suck you off.” Her voice is so fucking sweet that if he denies her, I’ll pummel him.

I groan, and play with her clit as a reward, a way to pass the time as she waits for him to man up and let her suck him.

“You’re such a filthy girl, Marcella. Look at you,” I coo.

My brother hasn’t moved since this all started. He could have left the room and claimed I was insane, but he’s here, watching as she begs for him. They are both in this. They just don’t know yet. Call me any names, but at least I face the truth.

I place a hand over her mouth, first playing with her lips until she gets the idea to open for me.

Her plush lips slide open and her tongue swipes her own juices off my fingers as she sucks on me.

She takes me so far down her throat, I’m tempted to ask who taught her this just so I can kill them and give proper homage to my gratitude.

When I try to remove my fingers for my desperate brother, she sucks harder trying to hang onto me.

I squeeze her cheeks to make her open for him.

“You like the taste of yourself?” I ask her, and she practically wags her tail on my cock. She’s such a good girl.

“Are you going to make her beg?” I ask Lucky, watching the pain and desire all over his face. He needs her as badly as I do.

She’s not a breakable doll. She’s a queen.