You need to own it. You need to stop fighting yourself.
Could I do that? Could I accept what I’d become? What I wanted?
I looked down at my body, at the marks Nano had left, the evidence of his claim written across my skin in bruises and bites and rope burns. And I felt something shift inside me. Something that had been fighting and screaming and resisting finally went quiet.
I’m his.
I’d said the words. Screamed them, actually, while he fucked me into oblivion. And I’d meant them.
But did I still mean them now? Now that the haze of sex and submission had cleared? Now that I’d been confronted by a woman who’d made the same choice and somehow survived it?
I didn’t know.
But Kyllian was right about one thing.
I needed to figure it out.
Because whatever happened next, whether Morpheus decided to let me live, whether my brother came looking for me, whether Nano kept me or threw me away, I needed to know what I wanted.
I needed to know who I was.
And right now, lying in this bed, covered in the evidence of my complete surrender, I had no fucking idea.
But I was going to find out.
Even if it killed me.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Nano
The clubhouse was alive with the kind of debauchery that made outsiders think we were animals.
Maybe we are, I silently thought as I sat at the bar, nursing my third beer, watching the chaos unfold around me with the detached interest of someone who had seen it all before. The gathering room reeked of sex and sweat and spilled alcohol. Familiar scents that usually brought a certain comfort. Tonight, they just made me restless as Serena pressed herself against my side, her tits pushing into my arm as she leaned close enough that I could smell the cheap perfume she doused herself in. Vanilla and something synthetic that was supposed to be seductive but just smelled desperate.
“You’ve been sitting here all night, baby,” she purred, as her hand slid up my thigh. “Don’t you want to have some fun?”
I took another pull from my beer, not bothering to look at her as her fingers traced higher, dangerously close to my cock. “You look tense. I could help with that.”
She was pretty enough. They all were. That was why they were here. Club whores who knew the score, who understood that their purpose was to service the brothers and keep their mouths shut about everything they saw. Serena had been around for a few months now, long enough to know how things workedbut not long enough to have lost that eager desperation that made her try too hard.
Her hand cupped my cock through my jeans, rubbing with practiced efficiency.
Nothing. I felt nothing. Not arousal. Not interest. Not even the mild curiosity that usually accompanied a woman’s touch. Just... emptiness. Like my body had forgotten how to respond to anyone who wasn’t Alex.
I took another drink, forcing myself to focus on the room instead of the thoughts spiraling through my head. Across the gathering room, Wanderer and Carver had a club whore bent over one of the leather couches. She was on her hands and knees, as Wanderer fucked her from behind while Carver stood in front of her, his cock buried in her mouth. They moved in tandem, a practiced rhythm that had the girl moaning around Carver’s dick.
Carver caught my eye and grinned, his hand fisting in the girl’s hair as he thrust deeper. “You should get in on this, Nano. She’s got a tight little cunt.”
“I’m good,” I said, raising my beer in acknowledgment.
Wanderer laughed, slapping the girl’s ass hard enough to leave a handprint. “Your loss, brother.”
At one of the tables near the fireplace, Morpheus sat with his usual air of controlled authority, even with Lollie on her knees between his legs. She was working his cock with single-minded determination, her head bobbing as she tried her damnedest to make him come. Morpheus barely seemed to notice her, his attention focused on whatever Cerberus was saying across the table.
Cerberus gestured with his beer, his scarred face animated as he told some story that made Morpheus laugh. A genuine sound that echoed through the room. Lollie redoubled her efforts, taking him deeper, and Morpheus’ hand dropped to herhead almost absently, holding her in place as he continued his conversation.
That was Morpheus. Always in control. Always aware of everything happening around him, even when he had a woman’s mouth wrapped around his dick.
