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He exhales heavily. “Then why let my emotions influence him at all? Why let me have some control over what he does and who he kills?”
“Because he’s an extension of you. Because the end goal is you, Brom. They can’t control you, but they can control the horseman, and that means they control you by default. You know what they want. You know they want you to fuck Kat, get her pregnant. They want you to father her child.” I swallow down the hurt in those words. “The marriage is for show. If what your history teacher said is true, this is a union between two covens who are promised immortality. You are a bargaining chip. So is Kat. The horseman is a means to an end.”
He falls silent at that, his chin dipping down, his dark hair falling forward.
“The two of us,” I begin, “we’re simple in many ways. Me and Kat? We’re also simple. You and Kat…you should be the most solid line in this triangle, but you’re the most complicated piece of the puzzle. Twisted in on itself and over again.”
He snorts. “You don’t even want us together.”
“I love her,” I tell him, sitting up. “And I love you. I don’t care how many times I say it to you and you don’t say it back, but I love you. And all my jealousy and possessiveness put to the side, I want the two of you to love each other. The three of us are one. We don’t work without the other.”
He gives me a side-long glance. “Right. And if I stepped out of the picture, you wouldn’t take Kat for yourself.”
“I didn’t say I wouldn’t,” I say with a crooked smile. “She’s mine to the end, pretty boy. But my life wouldn’t be as sweet if you weren’t in it.”
He frowns at me with a mocking look in his eyes. “What happened to Crane? Who is this man?” He lifts up the end of the covers and pretends to look under the bed.
“This man is high right now,” I tell him. “Why don’t you take off your clothes and come to bed?”
“Ah,” he says with a nod. “There he is.”
I grin. “It sounded like a question, but it was a statement.”
“Of course,” Brom says. He gets to his feet and starts unbuttoning his shirt, knowing what I like to see, the peek of his taut, tanned skin underneath the white fabric, the slow reveal as he pulls it over his head.
I take my time gazing at his upper body, never getting tired of it. His veined, thick arms, the wide expanse of his shoulders, the dusting of dark hair across the chiseled planes of his hard chest, the way the hair leads down over the furrows of his etched abdomen, down further past the sharp Vs of his hips.
His trousers come off next. His cock already at attention, a dark and formidable seven inches against his muscular thighs, his balls heavy underneath, swinging as he takes two steps toward me.
“Where do you want me?” he asks. His lids are heavy from the drug, maybe from desire.
“Where do you want me, sir?” I correct him, just for fun.
“Where do you want me, sir?”
I watch him for a moment, the petulance in the way he holds his mouth, the defiance and lust in his dark eyes, the furrow in his brow. God, I love this man.
I want him to love me, too. That might be my darkest secret—not what happened to Marie, but that I want this wild, contemptuous young man to love me the way that I love him.
“I want you to undress me, slowly, using your hands, using your tongue. I want you to take your time. Then I want you to take that oil in the drawer and put it on your cock. Then put it on me. I want you to lie on top of me and fuck me.”
He stares at me, his mouth parting and wet. “When you say you want me to fuck you…”
“I’m saying come inside me. I submit to you for tonight, Brom. I am yours.”
He swallows hard, his cock visibly twitching in response. “You really are high,” he whispers, practically salivating.
Maybe I am. Maybe this isn’t what I would normally do.
But I’ve thought about it.
I’ve thought about it with him, wanting to know what his cock would feel like inside me. I’ve thought about submitting to him for once, just to know what it feels like.
“I’m curious,” I tell him, “to see what I’m missing out on.”
“Aren’t you worried?” he asks, reaching down and undoing my trousers and freeing my cock, which springs to full height. “About the horseman?”
“Not for tonight,” I tell him truthfully. “I trust that you can keep him at bay.”
He doesn’t need to know that while he was in the bathroom earlier, I very liberally sprinkled salt all around the room, along with some obsidian and black tourmaline towers at certain spots for good measure. He might not be in chains, and I might be high, but that doesn’t mean I trust the horseman not to show up announced.
