18. Chapter 18

Chapter eighteen

“ Y ou need to talk to him, your grace.”

“Pardon?”

I leaned back in my chair, held up, and stared at the beautifully crafted design of my cup, as Callum was standing next to my chair at the dining table. He looked just as tired as I felt. They all did.

Days had turned into weeks, and at this rate, none of us would survive another moment in this chaos. Of Bastian’s chaos.

“It has been this way for the past month and I don’t know what else to do. I have tried helping him. I have tried listening to him ranting about his hatred for you. I have tried beating him senseless because he seems to love fighting. But nothing, and I mean nothing has worked. If anything, everything I have tried has just kept pushing him over the edge of the cliff and soon he is going to fall off,” Callum finished as he ran a hand through his hair.

“You think I don’t know that?” I snapped, draining the full glass of wine in one go.

“I would never insinuate that I know more than you. I am merely stating that you won’t have a pet to play with any longer if he continues down this path.”

No, I wouldn’t, but it took me over three hundred years to get a grip on my reality. If I was being honest with myself, it had only gotten ‘better’ when Emilia arrived because I was terrified that I would harm her. I looked away and thrummed my fingers against the table, contemplating what to do. How to get him to fall in line and stop drinking?

“Ah, my elder brother, the drunk.” Soren lowered his eyes, and I could see that he was just as worried. Shit. I needed to do something. “I’ll be honest; I am at a complete loss.”

I stood suddenly and asked both of them, “Where is he?”

They both looked over to the entrance of the kitchen and right at that moment, we all heard the clanging of pots and incoherent shouting.

I walked to the door and called over my shoulder, “Leave us. I don’t want anyone interrupting.”

I continued without waiting for a response and followed the steps down to the lower level. If I didn’t know my way around, then I could have just followed Bastian’s grunts and words of profanity. I stalled at the entryway, not wanting him to see me just yet. He was bent over the sink and threw the piece of cloth he was holding as hard as he could into it, splashing water everywhere. His body was so tense that veins were popping up along his arms and neck. His curly black hair was damp from the sweat and tangled from running his hands through it.

He slammed a fist onto the counter and cursed, “Why God! Why would you do this to us! Have I not done everything that was asked of me? I was the perfect son—I—”

I rolled my eyes and made myself known.

“Do you really think that your god listens to your pleas? Or do you think that you are already in Hell with the Devil herself?”

He turned around so swiftly that he lost his footing and nearly fell over, but caught himself just in time. He narrowed his eyes at me, watching my every move as I leaned against the doorframe.

“Must you constantly glare at me?”

“Then you do not wish for me to gaze upon you at all.”

I scoffed and pushed off the doorframe, walking around the kitchen, casually looking at the ingredients laid out on the table in the middle of the room.

“Your brother is worried about you. Callum, as well. All that time alone must have softened him up. I was asked to come and check on you and plead to your higher sensibilities. Though I’m not entirely sure you have much going on up here,” I said, pointing to my head.

He flipped the knife casually, catching it by the hilt.

“Nothing going on?” He scoffed. “I think I have enough brains to know that I want to kill every last cell of it so I can enjoy the rest of my life. Here. With you .”

As if to add insult to injury, he reached over to grab a bottle of something and took a swig, keeping his eyes on me the whole time.

“You can’t continue drinking.”

“You drink all the time and no one stops you.”

“I’m immortal. Drinking is all I have.”

“And now it’s all I have.”

“That’s not true. You have your brother here.”

“Then it can be argued that you have Callum and Emilia.”

I thought for a moment about what he said and what it meant. After all this time, was I that easy to read? Yes, Emilia and Callum were here in my castle, not because they wanted to be but because they had nowhere else to go.

“What I have are two people who depend upon me to keep them alive, another who is infatuated with me, scientifically speaking, and his brother can’t stand to be in the same room as me. I don’t have anyone, not like you. So stop wasting your fucking time drinking and—”

“And what!” He lifted his hands in the air. “What else am I supposed to do?”

“Me.”

“Stop talking nonsense and get out.”

“You stop.” I moved around the table and stood directly in front of him. “I am tired, Bastian. I am tired of fighting.”

His eyes widened at hearing me say his name again. He grabbed my hips and spun me around until my back bit into the edge of the counter. His hands rested on either side of my body as we stared at each other, not moving an inch. Something in his eyes spoke to a deep part of my being.

I breathed.

“I want to forget.” Forgoing all pretenses that I knew what the fuck I was doing, only able to focus solely on those large, calloused hands that were barely brushing my sides. “Would you want my lips wrapped around your cock? Licking… S ucking …” I stretched out each word, making no move to touch him. I looked down and smiled. He had grown and was strained against his pants. “Beg, hunter.”

“Shut. Up.” I knew he loved our little fights as much as I did.

I clamped my mouth closed as he reached forward and grabbed a knife from the counter, nodding toward it. “That is getting old.”

“Shut. The. Fuck. Up.”

I held still as he brought the knife up, grabbed the top of my dress, and felt the material between his fingertips. He grazed the tip of the knife across my breasts. My nipples hardened at the cold sensation. I gasped when I felt him moving the tip up to my neck, lightly cutting my skin. I didn’t so much as flinch, almost daring him to cause more damage, our eyes making a wager that neither one of us wanted to admit aloud.

He gripped the handle harder and sliced the knife through the dress, tearing the fabric to shreds. The clothing dropped in a heap at my feet.

“Like what you see?”

I smirked until I saw his eyes darken and the way a muscle in his jaw ticked. My throat bobbed at that look in his eyes.

“Fuck it.”

He bent down and wrapped his arms around my thighs, lifting me up, locking my legs around his waist. His tongue was on my breasts, teasing my nipples and biting down, sending a jolt of electricity down my spine. I ran my hand through his hair and pulled until he was forced to look at me.

We stared at each other for a moment. The look in his eyes was so intense, piercing right through my soul. His head leaned in toward mine. Oh god. Was he going to kiss me!

I blurted, “Take me. Now.”

He stopped. I think he realized what he was about to do and said, “So fucking bossy. But I know exactly how to shut you up.”

He turned and swiped the counter clear of the food he was preparing and slammed me onto the surface. I gasped at how rough he was being. Not treating me like a porcelain doll that would crack. Fuck . It was hot.

He was palming my breast as he shoved two fingers into my mouth.

“Suck,” he commanded.

I obliged. Wiggling my hips, desperate for friction. His fingers were out of my mouth a moment later and then I felt the intrusion. My eyes almost rolled to the back of my head, not realizing how much I missed those thick fingers. I loudly moaned, not caring who heard. A hand clamped over my mouth as he pounded those fingers inside me.

I could feel the rising ache deep inside me. My walls clamped around his fingers and just as I was about to feel that delicious rush, he stopped.

I stared at him wide-eyed, confused about what was happening, until I saw that smirk. That fucking bastard.

Shadows began to swirl around me as he said with lethal clarity, “Use your magic on me and this stops.”

The shadows lingered for a moment, to see if he was bluffing, but he wasn’t. That look in his eyes told me that if I used it, for whatever purpose, then he would stop, no matter how much we both wanted this. I let the magic dampen and fully extinguish as I glared at him.

He said mockingly, “Must you constantly glare at me?”

I stared into his eyes and could see that mine were still glowing purple. Maybe it hadn’t been fully extinguished, though I had never seen them look like this without the shadows that followed. Yet, he didn’t shy away.

“Now what?”

“Now, you will suck my cock, like the good slut you are.”

“I will not get on my knees for you.”

“Who said you had to get on your knees?”

He unbuckled his trousers and lowered them, revealing a thick cock that was waiting to devour me. He fisted it in his hand, staring at me the entire time while stroking it. I was still resting my forearms on the table as he climbed on top of it, pushing me down once again. He lifted his leg and swung it over me, straddling my chest. His hardened length rested between my breasts.

My eyes became hooded. I should not have found this as hot as I did and he fucking knew it.

“That’s a good girl. Look at you. Needy for my cock, aren’t you?”

I swallowed and knew that he caught that movement, as well. He was more astute than I had previously realized. He grabbed my chin with his thumb and forefinger, opening my mouth as far as it could go. He grabbed his length and brought it to my lips. I couldn’t help but flick my tongue against the bottom of him.

He hissed, “I am warning you, I am not gentle. I will not make love to you like your precious, little bird. I will fuck you. Hard. So fucking hard that you’ll regret ever keeping me.”

Before I could answer, he turned so that he was squatting over me, tipping my head back and shoving his cock down my throat. I gasped at the force behind what he was doing to me. Never in my life had I been in this position, completely helpless to the assault against my throat. I tried to move my hands up, to grab something to hang onto, but he held down both my hands. I almost used my magic and then remembered his warning.

I was completely at his mercy. And…it was liberating .

He pounded into me and then only as I choked from lack of oxygen did he give me a reprieve. Then he shoved his cock back in before I had barely taken a full breath. On and on we went like this. Pressure built within me again, and I tried to move my hand toward my pussy to do something to help the ache. Though he just clamped down harder on my wrists. It was unbearable, borderline painful.

I thought that I would have to stop him, use my magic because I couldn’t take much more, before I felt his mouth on my cunt, licking so fast that I was shaking from the rush. From everything. And just as I was about to release, he stopped and pulled his cock out of my mouth, sitting up. No longer touching me.

“What. The. Fuck .”

One moment I was turning toward him to give him a piece of my mind and the next I was on the ground with him leaning over me. He grabbed my shoulders hard and thrust into me, no warning. The scream that came from my mouth was a noise that I hadn’t made before. It was pain and pleasure and surprise and everything in between. I could almost cry out from the pain as he was so thick and gave me no time to get used to him. I couldn’t even move to help with the pace as he held me in place by my shoulders and rammed into me.

“Fuck. Fuck . Look at you taking my cock like a good girl.”

I couldn’t form one coherent thought as I was soaring higher and higher. Doing my best not to react, giving him time to pull out of me. I held my breath as I was almost there, my fingers reached up and closed around his bulky arms. I leaned forward and bit into his shoulder and he roared at the pain. Loving it.

His breathing turned ragged, the movements jerky, and I knew he was close. I smiled as I felt a wave wash over me, finally. He ground his teeth as a scream tore through him and his movement stilled.

His arms were shaking, as were my legs. I didn’t think my legs could work well after what just happened, so I was grateful when he pulled out and laid down next to me.

We laid there, on the ground, panting and attempting to catch our breaths, when I remembered the challenge. The challenge was that the other would beg if they wanted to fuck. We whispered at the same time.

“I won.”

We took a moment to catch our breaths, coming down from the high of a thorough fucking. It felt liberating, but I couldn’t push past a small feeling of doubt. That he didn’t want this and was just placating me. I couldn’t handle where my thoughts were heading.

“I loathe you.”

I turned to look at him as he continued staring at the ceiling. “I know you hate me. I know you want nothing more than to kill me.” I took a deep breath. “But I also know there is a part of you that wants nothing more than to let go. A part of you that wants the depravity and fun that comes along with being with a creature as wicked as myself.”

I could see him knit his brows together, working through it in his mind. Part of me was fearful of his response because it would change nothing…or it could change everything.

He finally looked at me. “I loathe you,” he repeated. I looked away from him. I felt crushed, I wouldn’t let him see me affected by his words and was about to get up before he continued, “But…you may be right.”

I whipped my head back to him, not sure if I heard him correctly. This was the first time he had admitted to having any feelings for me other than hatred.

“I was raised to obey. If my father believed that I was straying from the path he had chosen for me then I was disciplined accordingly. I learned early on that if I didn’t cause him trouble then everything would be fine.” He sat up and I followed. “I pushed every desire and craving down to be the perfect son. I withdrew into myself and soon even I started to believe my father's narrative: to live a sedentary life with a wife and children.”

I hesitantly raised my hand to do something to bring him comfort—I could hear his voice hitch and thought he could be close to tears—but I didn’t want him to flinch from me or stop talking, so I placed my hand next to his, instead.

“Then I met you and you challenged me. Made me want to give in to every desire that I had and…it terrified me.” He finally looked at me, our faces inches apart. “It still does.”

This man was prideful, arrogant, passionate, obsessive, and ruthless when it came to those that he loved. But all of those traits and more were what drew me to him. It made me care for him. My heart skipped a beat when I realized that I cared… I cared more than I wanted to admit.

But I couldn’t tell him that…at least not yet. So I brought my hand up to his face, caressed his cheek, and slowly moved my thumb back and forth in a motion that I hoped would be soothing.

“Thank you.”

“For?”

“Sharing a part of yourself with me.”

He stared at me, as if seeing me for the first time, and nodded.