There were several things I did that were stupid tonight. The one that stands out the most is when I practically claimed Malia in front of three powerful criminal families at her own vying ball. Leave it to me to ultimately put a target on my head.
I wonder if I hadn’t fucked her would I be this twisted up over her betrayal? I’ve never been the one to fuck and let emotions get involved. Theproblemis those feelings were already embedded before that.
A figure catches my attention by the window inside my house. I had almost forgotten Xana was here visiting. She’s been with Bastian all day again, I don’t think she’s even unpacked, and it irks the fuck out of me.
She peers out at me, smiling and waving when she realizes she caught my attention. I return her smile though it feels as strained as the rest of me. Blowing out a breath, I shut off my car and quickly run into the house to beat the cold.
“Well, don’t you look handsome.” Xana smiles and places her hands on her hips. “I didn’t get to see you before you left. Where did you go again?”
There’s that strain again.
I hate lying to my sister, but I can’t bring her into this. The less she knows the better.
So, I just shrug. “Had a party that I was obligated to attend tonight. Despite my suspension it wasn’t something I could ignore.”
Xana nods in understanding. “Well, go get changed and I’ll make us some hot cocoa.” She jumps up and down, clapping her excitement. I chuckle at her enthusiasm; glad she doesn’t carry the same burdens I do. “Let’s play catch up, big brother. Hope your hair didn’t look like that while you were there.”
She laughs and walks toward the kitchen, I absentmindedly run my hands through my hair. I didn’t check myself after I fucked Malia, just walked out, left, and texted Oren from my car.
I go straight for my bathroom and strip out of my clothes. Not bothered that an expensive as fuck suit is sitting on my bathroom floor. I needed to shower before I sat down and hung out with my sister. There’s no way I could rightfully do that while Malia’s dried cum is on my cock.
My dick is still at half-mass when I step into the shower. I hang my head letting the water run down my body, soaking in the warmth. There’s a chill that has settled in my bones and it could be from a number of things that I’m too tired to try to decipher.
I close my eyes and the first thing I see is an emerald set staring back at me. Goddamn, Malia looked beautiful tonight. Her high double slit dress showcasing her toned legs, hinting at the buried treasure just underneath.
Andfuckif it isn’t a treasure.
I’m fully hard now thinking about how I fucked her pussy again tonight. How I took control of her body, but here we are as she continues to keep control of my mind.
I brace myself against the shower wall, using my free hand to grip my length. I’m throbbing. The woman is a drug and she’ll be the death of me. Like most men I’ve always had a high sex drive, but since I’ve gotten a taste I can’t turn back, no matter how hard I try to scratch and claw my way out of her hold.
It doesn’t take long to fully emerge into the remnants of the night. Long, slow strokes as I grip my dick, imaging the water as Malia’s cum. A woman who barely knows fear, found it tonight as I hung her over the ledge and fucked her.
I groan, picking up my pace and letting my head fall back, getting lost in the pleasure. She made the most beautiful sounds, from breathless whimpers to screams. Body bruised, used, and scratched from the abrasive wall as she sat cum drunk on the cold concrete at my feet.
“Fuck,” I hiss.
There’s that familiar build at the base of my spine, my balls pull up, and I shoot cum on the shower wall at the simple thought that I did that.
Malia Olin has been at my feet twice. The headstrong woman at my mercy without a fight. And then I realize that perhaps I’m not the only one who’s addicted.
That does nothing but fuck with my head even more.
I THROW ON A pair of boxer briefs and black joggers, not worried about a shirt. I walk down the hall toward the kitchen and find Xana sitting at the table with two mugs. I come to a stop when her nose wrinkles and she gags.
“The cocoa bad?” I question, cocking an eyebrow when she meets my eyes with disgust.
She snorts and pushes away her cup. “Please go put a shirt on.”
I run my hand over my face, muttering curses as I walk to the table and plop into the chair across from her. Xana laughs and pushes a cup toward me. Marshmallows float in the top and I smile at the sentiment.
It’s always a breath of fresh air when my sister visits, save for the things I have to hide from her. Xana has always been a free spirit. She’s always twenty, but I believe even at a hundred she will still be a child at heart. Our seven-year age difference and how different our personalities are, it’s always hard to separate the little girl from the woman.
“So,” Xana says, breaking the silence. “What are you doing with all your spare time?”
I chuckle. I have more spare time now than I know what to do with since being suspended. I’m a petulant child with his nose in the corner left to think about his actions. Only instead of fretting over my ex-best friend that I put in the hospital and worrying over my job, I’ve been spiraling down the rabbit hole of Olin bullshit.
“Not much,” I say with a shrug.