33. Lyla

"I could go with you, you know." I grab onto Sage's T-shirt and pull him to me.

"No dice, Lyla." He shakes his head.

I frown, even if I know he won't give in. Kane asked to see Sage alone, which means whatever they're going to do, he doesn't want me to be part of it.

Turning back to the bathroom mirror, I fix my hair up in a messy bun. "I hate that you two are still keeping me out of this like I'm not the one dead center."

"I thought you were looking forward to time with the girls." Sage watches me through the mirror.

"Just because I'm going to enjoy my girl time doesn't mean I don't see exactly why you set that up." I glare at him. "Girls' night is code for you asking them to all come over and babysit me while you're gone."

He opens his mouth, but I spin around and plant my finger over his lips before he can argue.

"Don't even think about lying. If it was actually a girls' night, Crew and Jude wouldn't be coming, and Mason would be going out like he normally does."

Sage's mouth snaps shut.

"Exactly."

"I need to make sure you're safe." He pulls me to him. "And I'll be back by the morning."

"The morning." I hum, glancing down at his chest until he plants his finger under my chin and tips my face to his.

"What was that?" He smirks. "Are you jealous, butterfly?"

"I don't get jealous." I purse my lips. "Perks of growing up in the clubhouse. Stay there two nights for all I care."

"You're a cute little liar," he whispers in my ear.

"It's not like I'm worried or anything."

"I know you aren't." He kisses the side of my neck. "Because you don't need to be."

"Is that so, fuckboy?"

Sage sinks his teeth into my neck, and I squeal as he picks me up and sets me on the bathroom counter. "You and that sassy fucking mouth."

He spreads my thighs as his hips jut forward, and his cock is already rock-hard in his jeans. The friction of him pressing against my thin pajama shorts has me moaning.

"What are you going to do about my mouth, Sage?" I tease as he bites a path down my neck. "Shut me up?"

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" Sage tugs on the choker around my throat and brings us face-to-face.

"Maybe."

He nips at my lip. "I think I'd rather hear you scream."

Sage pulls my mouth to his and claims me in a possessive kiss. I wrap myself around him, our battling hearts racing in our chests. And just as I sink deeper into it, he pulls me off the counter and spins me around to bend me over it.

He tugs my shorts and underwear down to my knees. One hand wraps around my throat, forcing me to face myself in the mirror while the other moves for his jeans.

"Want to know a secret, Lyla?" Undoing his zipper, he pulls out his cock and runs the head of it through me.

Sage tightens his grip on my throat, leaning down so he can bring his mouth to my ear. He continues applying pressure with his dick. But every time I think he'll put me out of my misery and drive his hips forward, he pulls away in a unique form of torture.

I open my mouth to answer Sage's question, but he tightens his grip on my neck and steals my breath, cutting off my "yes."

"The only one I'm fucking is you." He presses himself against me again. "And the only reason that hasn't been the case for the past eight fucking years is because you walked away from me."

Sage strokes his cock between my legs, and I try to press back, desperate for him to be inside me.

"You're the one who left us, not me." His voice drops, and it's a whisper as much as it's a confession. "You broke my fucking heart."

I broke mine too.

He thrusts inside me with his words, burying himself so deep I need to scream, but it comes out strangled with his grip on my throat. When he finally lets go, I choke for air.

"You're going to be the death of me," he groans, thrusting in again, every inch of his bare cock taking me. "But do you want to know something?"

"Yes." I almost lose the word as he thrusts in again, meeting my eyes in the mirror.

"You're worth it." He hits me deeper. "The torture. The pain. You're worth every. Fucking. Ounce. Of. Pain."

It breaks my heart and makes me whole. He hurts and he heals. And losing myself in his stare, I realize I'm not the only one who has carried this around because he has hurt of his own, and I put it there.

Sage fucks me through all the pain I've caused, and I spill more into him. Because we've done nothing but hurt each other, and we can't help coming back for more.

I'm not sure why people talk about falling in love like it's a good thing.

It's in the words—falling.

Which, I guess always feels good at first. Because you let go and your insides float. You feel the air and the freedom of letting go.

The problem is, eventually you hit the bottom. And that hurts. It's crippling.

Somehow, Sage and I survive each other when we hit that bottom over and over again. But as Sage stares into my eyes through the mirror, I feel blood rushing back to my chest. Back to my heart.

How can a broken heart still beat? Because losing him shattered my soul. But still, he holds me, and somehow, he puts me back together.

"Sage." His name is a prayer to anything out there that's bigger than us.

To change the fate I read when we were kids that said he was my destiny. And the one that said he'll also be my destruction.

Sage pulls out and lifts me up, carrying me to his bed. My fingers find his hair, and I should probably care that he'll be seeing my dad soon, but I can't help it. He makes me feral, and I make him wild.

He pins me to his bed and thrusts back in.

"You're not wearing a condom," I point out as he drives his cock deep.

"I know." He looks down between us, pulling almost all the way out and then thrusting in again. "My test results were clear, so I'm not fucking you with anything between us ever again."

I didn't even know he was getting tested, but the fact that he did means he doesn't see an end to this, and it has me wrapping myself around him tighter.

"And what if I'm not on the pill?" I whisper in his ear, expecting that realization to make him pause.

But all it does is make him grin as he pins me to the bed by my throat, thrusting until he's bottomed out, and I'm raking my nails down his arms.

He grazes his lips over mine, watching me with the full dark attention of his eyes. "I don't give a fuck if you are or aren't. You're going to drip with my fucking cum, and the universe can do what it wants with that. Fate, right, Lyla?"

Fate.

I am on the pill, and he might know that. But I want to believe he still means it. That the idea of us being something permanent won't make him want to escape this.

Grabbing onto his shirt, I pull his mouth to mine and feel myself getting frantic. I need him inside me, around me. His hands frame my head as he fucks me into the mattress. He breaks me open like he promises.

Teeth clash as our tongues collide.

A part of the Earth might split open.

Every promise we've ever made to each other blooms in our kisses. In his body driving into me.

My toes tingle as he thrusts in harder, taking me like only he can. My beast, holding me hostage and setting me free in the process.

"You're mine, butterfly." He flips us over until I'm on top, riding him.

His fingers wrap the choker around my throat while I circle my hips.

"I'm yours." I grab his wrist and grind against him.

My clit rubs his pelvis with each movement, and he uses his free hand to set the pace. The fullness of him inside me has my pussy clenching while his warmth fills me. His hips pound up as he fucks me through both of our climaxes.

Tugging the choker, he pulls me down over him and seals our mouths together. He catches my racing breaths, and I press my palms to his shoulders, trying to steady myself.

"I hope you meant what you said," I utter, out of breath as I feel the slickness of our cum when I shift.

Sage grabs my hips and lifts me up, breaking our kiss. He holds me over him and looks down to watch himself drip out of me.

Tipping his head back, he kisses me again, and I feel more dripping out. And that's when he lifts his hips to grind his soaking cock through me.

"I meant every word." He kisses my lower lip, down my jaw. "I'm going to fill you up. Paint you. Cover you. I'm going to mark your entire body with my cum. Because you're mine, Lyla. In every single way that counts."

He glides me over him, and I moan.

"And you're mine."

"Mm-hmm," he hums.

His cock has barely lost blood flow when its already turning to steel again. And I want him to thrust back in, but a knock at the front door makes me sigh.

"Fuck." He tips his head back.

"I think they're here." I look down at the mess of clothes we never fully got out of and can't help but laugh.

"Sounds like it." He groans, and I roll off him.

We lay facing the ceiling and his phone starts to ring. Reality is just on the other side, always knocking.

I reach over and take his hand. "Be safe, okay."

He looks at me, gripping my hand. "Always."