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One being—the front door slams against the wall and she jolts, peeking her head out through the gap—her brother.
“What the fuck was that, Car! You beat that bitch to a fucking pulp!” Kyrin leans down and presses his face close to hers. She winces, falling back onto the sofa opposite me. “That what you’re doing now too, hmmm? Being the school bitch isn’t enough for you, you gotta throw hands on the poor peasants too?”
Her baby blue eyes roll to the back of her head. “Chill out, the both of you. Fuck. It was all” —she flicks her hands around the place—“consensual.”
My finger twitches as I shuffle forward, resting my elbows on my thighs. “What do you mean?”
“I mean…” She finally glares at me, and I have to fight with myself not to smirk right at her. Since our cute little make-out session in the bathtub, she’s been purposely staying away from me. Good. She should. Her cheeks flush red as she stumbles on her words, staring back up at Ky. “We were in a cage fight. Like, with people throwing bets, and I just so happen to be the best.” She shoves Kyrin in the chest and my brows hit my hairline. What the fuck? Cage fighting?
I lean back in my chair and chuckle. “Well, shit.”
She continues her rant. “And I don’t appreciate you both ruining my birthday party and tipping my life upside down!”
Kyrin growls. I mean straight up growls, and I love this part because for whatever reason that God, or whoever created us, decided to make cute little families, they straight up thought to themselves, hey, let’s put these two assholes as siblings. “You’re done.”
Her eyes widen, and I see the exact moment fear whistles through her ears, because all the color in her face turns to stone. Kyrin has the control where Cartier is concerned, he even trumps their parents. After the last shitshow of a mess we had to clean up, she was already on thin ice. There’s no surprise Ky has snapped. He pushes off her chair, making his way to the alcohol cabinet tucked beside the fireplace. “I don’t give a fuck what you want anymore. You continuously test my patience. You’re—”
“—also fucking her teacher,” I add calmly, keeping my eyes on hers. I want her out of this fucking city and away from everyone, stat. I ignore the teacher thing because I can kill him later. How many fucking people has she slept with? And why did I assume she was a virgin? Oh yeah, I know, because she was underage, and I also thought she was smart.
She freezes, her fingers balling into a fist on top of her lap. “He lied. Jarrod has had a crush on me since I started that school.”
“You’re fucking underage…” I answer coolly. I never need to use anger with my words, because she knows when I’m mad. When I’m pissed. When I’m fucking anything. Cartier has been inside my head since the day she was born.
I see the exact moment she chooses roguery. The hues of blue in her eyes seem to shine brighter any time wickedness is about to make its appearance. “Was.” My mouth slams shut.
“Is that true?” Kyrin doesn’t even notice the back and forward between her and me. He also hasn’t moved from his current spot. That’s for her safety more than it’s for his. “You fucking your teacher?” Kyrin snatches the bottle of whiskey and mutters swear words in Romanian as he disappears through the riddled litter, stomping upstairs.
I wait until the door slams closed before I finally break the silence. “Your fucking teacher?”
“What’s the matter, Alucard?” She leans back against the chair while flicking her leg over the other. “You said game on.” Her tongue rolls over her bottom lip. “So let’s play.”
My teeth clench so tight I almost hear a faint crack vibrate through my skull. And it isn’t for the use of her stupid fucking nickname for me. “You think this is fucking cute?” I lean forward and rest my elbows on my thighs. “You know where he’s going to send you?”
She raises an eyebrow. “Correction, I know where he wants to send me. I know how to work my brother.” She’s right, she does, but she’s mistaken. There’s no working around him this time. Now, she’ll definitely get sent to some nunnery in the middle of ass crack nowhere. I’ll leave her to figure that out.
She slowly stands, taking long strides toward me. My fingers twitch as I rest back against the old Victorian sofa, smirking up at her while widening my legs.
“I’m not gonna stop this time…” I warn as she lowers herself onto my lap. Cartier wasn’t off-limits to me. I never saw her that way. I always knew she was mine. It was just a matter of time. That time is still not right now, but that doesn’t mean I won’t play with her while the clock ticks.
Her head tilts to the side, her long teal hair floating to the cushion of the sofa. “And why’s that?”
I bring my hands to her thighs and spread her wider, grinding her against my hard dick. Fuck. Her weight feels perfect on top of mine, her skin as smooth as it looks. She feels like cashmere on a cold day. “Because you’re legal.”
“Aww.” She drops her lower lip and I force myself to not bite it off. “Big bad Keaton Cicero who murders people”—she leans down lower until her lips touch the shell of my ear—“and other things.” My blood turns cold. Pushing up, she wiggles her brows down at me. “Was waiting for little old me to turn legal age.”
My chest rumbles from my chuckle, but her smirk slides off her face when my hand flies to her throat and I throw her onto the sofa, forcing her legs open, and rest against her pussy. “I don’t hurt minors.”
Cartier is as wild as they come. She shakes her ass around the place recklessly because she knows that if anyone so much as stares at her too long, bodies drop. There’s a kind of stupidity that comes from that kind of power, though, and the girl knows exactly how to utilize that. “Then hurt me.” Case in point. I didn’t want to bring up the fact that the little bitch went and gave her virginity away like it wasn’t the one thing boys and grown men in Kiznitch hungered for. She’s the fucking holy grail of our generation, and she just let someone take it like she’s Basic Betty shaking her pom-poms after her boyfriend Little Dick Declan scores within the final minutes.
“I’ll just have to—” My fingers trail down to the hem of her skirt delicately, tugging up the leather until it’s over her ass. When the tips of my fingers brush against the smoothness of her pussy, I smirk. “—Fuck him out of you.”
She peers back at me with her deceiving as fuck baby doe eyes, slowly bringing her hands to the base of my hoodie that she’s wearing and pulling it above her head. Her ocean hair spreads out like a tidal wave before she discards it onto the floor beside us. The muscles in my thighs tense as prickles of electricity flare through my veins. Flicking the corset track undone that’s tightened down her sternum, she wraps her fingers around my chin when I hover over her. “You can try.”
My hand flies to her throat and I force her lips up onto mine. Fuck. Her lips taste like candy, but her tongue is a weapon. Her thighs tighten around my waist, and with her leather skirt already pushed up, I don’t even bother to remove it. Flicking my buttons off my jeans, I push them down just enough.
She pulls back enough to not be too far. “Condom?” Her heavy breathing lands on my damp lips.
“The fuck I look like to you? Killian? I don’t walk around with condoms in my pocket.” Bringing my hand around the back of her ass, I slide my index finger down the crack, between her wet folds, and dip inside. Warmth envelops my finger and I moan slightly, biting down a growl. “I’ll pull out. Not interested in copy and pasting you.”
