I don't delude myself. Ever.
I want to fuck her again, wanted to ever since the night we fucked in her tiny little room at the inn. She's just a girl, I told myself. With great tits. And a motherfucking fine ass. Surprised about my urge to fuck her senseless. Not conflicted.
She wants to fuck me. She has wanted to fuck me again, too, ever since that bloody damned night. Her body craves it, but her mind was too eager to accept my slight nudge to forget. She's so conflicted that she shoved the whole night into the farthest corners of her mind. As if it never fucking happened.
And so I waited. Patience honed to perfection over the ages. Never betraying my hunger, never letting her realize what a tightrope she was balancing on. But oh did she want to fuck again, even if she didn't admit it to herself. It's been a game on the brink of distraction.
And now my face is buried deep in her cunt, my tongue getting her off again and again in an attempt to wear her down and get her back to sleep. My dick is hard and leaking. Neglected.
She tried to undress me but I didn't let her. She's unsatiable but unlike the night in the inn when she took out her grief and frustrations on my body, all fire and heat and passion I didn't expect her to possess. Now she's in a frantic, desperate hunger, devoid of all emotions except for need. When she finally passes out on her own, I quickly get up and lock her in.
Ryodan has been waiting outside for a little over one hour now.
When I open the door, he looks pissed as hell and his nostrils flare, taking in her scent on my face. Before he can so much as smirk, I grab the set of inks from him and punch him so hard and fast he is skidding over the floor. My glare is message enough. No patience left, it warns.
He wipes the blood of his smashed nose and spits onto the pavement, getting up slowly. Not the time to pointlessly challenge me. Countless wars formed an unbreakable bond over the ages, created understanding far beyond human conception. Silver eyes study me, taking in my frustration and fury. He keeps his distance, the smirk long gone from his eyes, replaced by something else. He likes to push, to hold the reigns. I let him. While politics bore me, he revels in them, enjoys keeping the nuts and bolts running. Power is his poison. Still, I am the fucking alpha, a point I very rarely need to make. He knows this, and he knows what's at stake here. Everyone of us knows. Everyone of us wants the same for my son.
„She is bad, huh."
It doesn't sound like a question, but it is. I'm bloody fucking pissed. At him, at even asking, at everything and everyone. Through too long teeth I growl my commands.
„Research. All you can find about priya. Get me answers. Anything."
His eyes turn hard with unquestioning obedience and the promise of a hunt.
We will rip them to pieces brother, we will drain their hearts and suck the marrow from their fucking fairy bones.
The beast is hungry. His is, too.
Later, my eyes say. First I need to fix this.
Then Mac wakes up and we can hear the rustling of the sheets.
Later, his gaze says and then he's gone.
