The Beast (Wicked Villains #4) - Katee Robert Page 0,36

and answer it honestly.”

I already know I’m not going to like this, just like I recognize that I’ve gone too far to change my mind now. He fucked my ass last night. We’ve both given each other blowjobs this morning. This roller coaster has reached its peak and we’re half a breath from free fall. “Yeah?”

“Are you furious at Isabelle for wanting to play the part of our dirty little slut? Or are you furious at yourself for wanting it, too?”

I can’t take a step back because of the wall, and he’s kneeling in my path out of the shower. I know without a shadow of a doubt that he planned things this way. “You are such a bastard.”

“Yes.” He gives my thighs one last squeeze and draws his middle finger along my cock. “Answer the question.”

“Both.” I shudder out a breath when he cups my balls. “I’m angry about both.” I simultaneously want to slap his hands away and demand that he never stop touching me. “I don’t understand why you’re not pissed about it.”

“Life is too short, too uncertain, to deny yourself what you want.” He plays his fingers up the underside of my cock and then grips me just behind the head. It’s still not enough to do more than tease, not when I just came so hard, but it feels so fucking good. Beast leans forward and bites my thigh just inside of where I can still feel his fingerprints on me, and I can’t help thrusting against his grip. His dark chuckle fills the space around us. “Sometimes those wires get crossed, but I know what I want now.”

Then he releases me and pushes to his feet.

If I wasn’t already bracing against the wall of the shower, I might have fallen. As it is, I’m left blinking and disorientated. Maybe that’s why I tell the truth. “It hurts. Even when it feels good, it hurts.”

He doesn’t ask for clarification, but then out of everyone else in the city, Beast is the one person who might actually understand what I’m saying. “If we don’t deal with it, the three of us will rip the entire territory apart.”

Leaving is no longer an option. I don’t know if it ever was. I finally nod. “Okay. I’m in.”

“Trust me to guide you today.”

I finally get my balance enough to push off the wall and look at him. He walks out of the shower and grabs two towels. It’s weird as shit, but the alternative is standing here out of spite, so I turn off the shower and accept the second towel.

What he’s offering … I shouldn’t agree to it. I understand that engaging in what is the equivalent of a prolonged scene is just kink, but I know myself and I’m not certain I can keep up the necessary barriers to walk out the other side of this unharmed when Isabelle invariably chooses Beast. And that’s without adding submitting to this man into the mix.

I still find myself nodding. “Today.”

Beast gives a little smile, like he finds my qualifying terms cute. That dual urge to punch him and kiss him rises, and I focus on drying off instead. He opens the door and glances out into the room. “Get dressed, Gaeton. Something nice like you’d wear to the old man’s house.” His brows lower for the barest moment. “I need to have some of my shit brought here.” He disappears into my bedroom and I follow more slowly, already bracing for seeing Isabelle.

She’s not there.

Guilt pricks me, and no amount of telling myself that I’m balancing the scales makes it disappear. I dress quickly, pulling on a pair of black slacks and a dark red button-down. After the slightest hesitation, I slip on socks and shoes, too. Beast is setting a specific kind of stage, so it pays to be thorough.

For his part, he makes a quick call and then frowns down at his discarded clothes. It would figure that Beast is one of those people who can’t stand wearing clothing more than once. I consider him. He’d be swimming in any of my slacks and shirts. “Hold on.” I dig through my closet to come up with a pair of lounge pants that I bought on a whim—and promptly shrank in the wash.

He raises his eyebrows when I toss them to him, but pulls them on without a word. They’re still a little big, hanging low on his hips despite him tying them tightly. Not quite the look