"Say it," he grunted. "Say it again."
"I'm fucking yours. Now shut up," I hissed.
I heard him chuckle as he knelt behind me while I was on all fours. I bit into the pillow when he drove into me, sheathing his length with all of me in one thrust.
The scent of heady arousal filled the room, cloaking it with heat and tangible tension. After three orgasms, it was still the purest, sweetest, bestest sin. To have him inside me.
Just... so... fucking... perfect…
"So good. Don't stop," I moaned, pushing against him every time he pulled back.
"Never," he promised, plowing into me at an urgent pace. "You're mine."
"Yours," I whispered, each moan and gasp punctuating his claim.
"Mine, mine, mine," he chanted, thrusting at every claim he made.
His palm suddenly smacked against my ass. Hard. I gasped, my walls clenching around him.
"Fuck yes," I said in a cry.
He stopped. I wanted to scream if it weren't for the thought that there were three other people in the suite.
"The fuck are you doing?" I hissed. "Keep going, idiot."
"I... I hit you."
I looked over my shoulder, seeing the genuine concern in his eyes.
"Jesus, you're such a fucking square. It's just a spank."
He glowered. "What?"
"I said it's just-"
"I'll show you square," he bit out and caught me off guard with another hit, the sound of his palm smacking against my ass ricocheting.
And he showed me how square he was as he fucked me mercilessly. Fucked me in layman's term. Seeking his own release. Taking his own pleasure. He greedily fucked me, each thrust all for him. But like the sick bastard that I was, I took pleasure in it. That I could do this to him. Turn the most sincere, gentle, and kindhearted man I had ever known into a selfish, harsh, crazy maniac fucking me till he had his fill.
"Harder," I panted.
He placed another blow on my ass. I moaned, burying my face into the pillow, my whimpers becoming muffled.
"So fucking perfect," he whispered as he parted the cheeks of my ass, his thrusts never faltering. "You're so fucking gorgeous. Drive me fucking crazy. Gonna come in your pretty little – fuck."
His thrusts grew sloppy as he pummeled into me. Losing his control. His hand fisted at my hair while the other held my hip in a tight grip as he drove me into the mattress at each thrust.
I looked over my shoulder, seeing the dark haze of lust in his eyes as he watched his cock slide in and out of me, muttering obscenities and sweet nothings under his breath. I reveled in it and pushed against him, never wanting to waste a second without him inside me. It felt too good.
"Fuck me, baby. Choke my cock and fuck me," he muttered in a lust filled daze.
"Shit. Keep talking," I panted and pushed more urgently.
His grin was malicious as his eyes met mine.
"I'm going to fuck you until you beg me to stop. Fuck you so good you won't be able to fuck anyone else. You're fucking mine. Say it," he bit out, his voice raspy as his thrusts became rougher and rougher as if his own words got him off.
The dirty words I never thought I'd hear from him were enough to have me doing his bidding.
"Yours. Yours," I whimpered, writhing as I rocked back and forth.
"Fuck yes."
He gifted my ass with another slap and my pussy clenched around his beautiful cock and I fucked him while he fucked me. Both of us fucking each other, taking pleasure in our greediness.
His breathing was harsh while his cock assaulted every inch of my cunt in the most mind numbing way. His body strained, every indent and muscle prominent as his skin glistened with sweat. When he gave my ass another slap emphasized with deep hard thrusts, I came. A surge of wet heat burst out of me, my body shaking in tremor.
I bit into the pillow to hold back the scream that threatened to rip out of me, forcing my eyes to stay open and catching him just as he realized what had happened. What he'd done for me. He snapped, his hold on my hips tightening and nails digging into my skin as he raced to meet me halfway.
And his face.
Pure ecstasy. Pure bliss as he joined me in my release.
I did that.
It was so fucking beautiful.
He didn't stop. He kept going, riding our climax away. His thrusts becoming desperate as if he didn't want it to end. I came again.
This time, my lids shut and my eyes rolled to the back of my head as the wave of pure unadulterated pleasure only he could give surged through me, bursting out of me, filling me until I had nothing but him.
My limbs buckled and I collapsed on the bed, panting and barely lucid.
Five orgasms in one morning. I could die with a smile on my face.
The loud volume of the TV registered as my senses gradually returned. Rick had purposely set the volume to the limit when covering my mouth with his palm wasn't enough, claiming he didn't want to die in Mexico.
I heard him curse but my eyes felt too heavy to lift.
"Are you okay? Did I take it too far? Shit, baby, I'm so-"
"Ugh. Shut up." Blindly reaching for him, I frowned when I felt him get off the bed. "If you're going to pull a wham-bam-thank-you-ma'am on me, I'm going to fuck your ass hole with my fist."
I opened my eyes halfway when nothing answered to me, surveying the room and seeing him inside the bathroom.
"Rick?" I called, listening to him go through the contents of the bathroom. "Sweetheart?" I pursed my lips, glaring when he didn't answer. "Hey, asshole! I'm talking to you!"
He walked back into the room with a scowl on his face.
"What sort of resort doesn't have anything in their medicine cabinet other than ethyl alcohol? And isn't this the penthouse suite?" he was muttering, grabbing his cargo shorts from the floor and yanking them on.
"The hell are you on about?"
"I'm going to talk to the manager about this issue. Don't they know that a first aid kit is on the top of every list to have in your home? Let alone a five star resort?" he muttered in obvious disapproval as he tried to locate his shirt under the bed.
I snickered. "Well, good luck with that. I hope your Spanish is comprehensible."
He straightened, his eyes flitting to mine as he pursed his lips. I raised my brows expectantly.
"I got a B- on my Spanish test when I was a sophomore in high school," he said grimly. "Haven't touched a Spanish textbook since."
I grinned as I embraced a pillow. "Tengo las mejores calificaciones en cada clases de idiomas que tuve en la escuela secundaria." (I got straight A's on every language class I had in high school.)
He rolled his eyes. "Of course you speak Spanish."
I chuckled. "Learning languages is one of my favorite hobbies. I'm currently mastering Japanese."
He looked at me in disbelief. "Don't you already speak, like, twenty languages?"
"Fifteen, actually," I corrected, stretching my limbs. "Jude and I have had this silent competition going on ever since we were kids. Whoever can speak fluently in more languages gets to call the other a dumbass loser." I smirked, glancing at him. "Jude is such a dumbass loser."
He chuckled, climbing back into bed. "You know, with your level of intellect, you could be finding a cure for untreatable diseases or discovering something that could have a profound impact to humanity, the universe even," he muttered. "And yet, you use it so you can call your brother a dumbass."
"So?"
He shrugged, grasping my foot and kneading it with his fingers. "You're the textbook definition of a genius and people like you are a rarity. You could do great things if you allow yourself."
"I can't."
He sighed. "Of course you can. You shouldn't dismiss yourself so easily. You're the smartest person I know, Angel. I mean it."
"No, it's not that," I said, shaking my head. "I can't stand it."
He frowned. "What do you mean?"
"I mean, this." I tapped my temple. "I can't stand it," I spat in disdain. "According to Aristotle, no great mind has ever existed without a touch of madness. Well, my mind is wrapped in the tight embrace of insanity." I sighed, lifting my gaze to the ceiling. "My grandfather taught me how to use the gifts I was born with and showed me the lengths it could reach. For a neglected child, it was a wonderful thing to have someone invest their time on me and I absorbed every knowledge he passed onto me just so he would keep paying attention to me. I was learning PhD level courses by the time I was eight and everyone I met would be in awe of me, at least of what my mind was capable of. I had so much potential, they said. Some even considered I could rival my grandfather's brilliance, which was ridiculous to me. He had the greatest mind since Newton's, I couldn't possibly be his equal let alone be his rival but even he believed it and after a while, I actually believed it too. But then, something happened and my mind started to go against me. I tried to control it. Took every medication imaginable just so I could cling to my sanity but it refused to be tamed. It would just wreak havoc and my mind would be filled so much chaos that it made thinking the most excruciating thing in the world. It didn't take too long until the medication wasn't enough anymore and I had to find something stronger. Something that could drown out the noise and release me from the demon that my mind had become, even for just a little while. Eventually, those artificial moments of relief and peace became more favorable than my reality, I don't even care if it's going to be the death of me."
I closed my eyes, swallowing to remedy the dryness in my throat.
"You're right. I can do great things if I allow myself to but the pain of letting my mind run free is just too unbearable. I'd rather be sane than brilliant, you see."
He came to lay beside me, brushing my hair with his fingers. "They did this to you."
I opened my eyes, frowning. "Who?"
"Your parents."
I stilled. "What makes you think that?"
"They made you believe perfection was attainable and anything less than that was unacceptable," he said dejectedly, looking at me as if I was an injured puppy. "It's not right that you had to grow up that way. A child should be loved with no condition."
"My parents are not bad people," I said, trying to convince myself the way I've been doing ever since I was a child.
"Maybe. But they're bad parents."
I drew my head back at his daring words, sitting up.
"You shouldn't judge them, Rick," I snapped at him. "They gave me everything a child could ask for and more. I was raised on the lap of luxury while millions of children live in scarcity. Dying because they don't have the privileges that I grew up in. I have no right to complain just because Mommy and Daddy were too fucking busy doing their duty to love their fucking princess."
I got off the bed, huffing in annoyance as I went to the bathroom, slamming the door behind me. I took in a calming breath, getting inside the shower and standing underneath the cold water raining down on me.
I heard the door open and I could feel Rick's eyes on me. I ignored him, tilting my head back and closing my eyes as I relaxed.
He got in the shower, standing behind me. "I'm sorry," he murmured. "I don't want to fight."
"Who says we're fighting?"
"You're angry," he murmured, wrapping his arms around my shoulders. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend you."
"You didn't offend me."
"I did. I overstepped the line again by saying those things."
I sighed. "I've never had to tolerate having someone pry into my life. I'm used to telling everyone to shut up and they won't say a word, but I know I can't do that with you."
I turned, facing him. I frowned at the sight of genuine guilt in his eyes.
"I'm trying, but it's not easy," I said, reaching up to cup his cheeks. "Let's just not talk about my parents anymore, yeah?"
He nodded, placing a soft kiss on my forehead.
"I'm sorry and I appreciate what you're doing. You don't know how much."
I smirked. "I think I do," I said, pressing against his front.
When I was about to lower myself to my knees, he pulled me up.
"As much as I want you, I'm starving."
"I'm offering," I whispered, stroking him.
He hissed in a sharp breath, stilling my wrist. "Your brother's going to start suspecting if we don't get out soon."
"Don't give a shit."
I followed the quick bobbed of his Adam's apple as he swallowed with my gaze before leaning in to lick at the skin of his throat. He let out a strangled groan.
"You still owe him an apology for the things you said," he said in a rasp.
"I've said worse things to him."
"Doesn't make it any better."
"Boo-fucking-hoo."
I pulled him to me but he shifted, pinning me against the wall. I smirked as his gaze raked over me, a ravenous look appearing in his eyes as he took me in as if it was the first time he'd ever beheld me.
He muttered a curse under his breath, screwing his eyes shut. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but let's not."
I couldn't believe he was saying it either.
"Are you rejecting me?"
He opened his eyes, giving me a rueful smile. "Has the great Angel Lastor never been said no to before?"
"Not till you."
He chuckled as he pushed away from me. "You need to apologize to him."
I scowled, huffing out an irritated breath. "He hired some creep to follow me. He repeatedly invades my privacy and constantly tries to control my life. He should apologize to me."
He sighed. "I understand why you're angry. I already talked to him about that and he agreed to cut you some slack."
I scoffed. "Like I'm going to buy that crap."
"The things you said were pretty bad, Angel. He was going crazy all day thinking he was the reason you keep running off because you hate him and he was suffocating you."
"He is suffocating me."
He smiled weakly, lowering his head till we were eye to eye. "I don't want to get in the middle of it, but I know he only does those things because he cares. You're his top priority. He'll bend over backwards for you."
"I never asked him to."
"Angel..." He sighed, pressing his forehead against mine. "At least do it for me. I feel like I'm putting a strain in your relationship with your brother," he said in dismay. "Apologize, please? For me?"
I pursed my lips, trying not to relent. I gave in three seconds later.
"Fine," I said grudgingly. "But I won't mean it. He's still an asshole."
He shrugged. "I'll take it."
He smiled, grabbing the small bottle of complementary shampoo and squirting it on the top of my head. When we got out of the room, Andrea was sitting in the living area, watching a soap opera while two women were giving her a mani-pedi. She flashed me a wicked grin.
"Thought I was going to have to burn the place down to get you two out of there."
I rolled my eyes. "Where's Jude?"
"In the dining room with his girlfriend," she said, her eyes practically sparkling. "I can't believe he's not gay! That was, like, the only interesting thing about him! Though it would have been a shame to have such a delicious piece of-"
"Ew. Shut up," I cut in with a glare, dragging Rick behind me.
Jude sprung to his feet when we entered the dining room, clearing his throat and opening his mouth before closing it back again. I arched a brow at his flustered state. He pursed his lips, his eyes flitting from me to Rick.
It wasn't so hard to read in between the lines but knowing my brother, he was probably convincing himself that we were just having a slumber party in my room all morning with the TV on full blast.
I glanced at Stella who offered an awkward smile that I didn't return as I took a seat on the chair Rick pulled out for me, directly across my brother. I folded my arms, looking up at Jude who remained standing. I raised a brow, giving his chair a pointed glance. He took a seat without a word.
This was one of the perks whenever my brother was in the wrong, which has only ever happened a handful of times.
I get to turn him into my bitch.
Rick cleared his throat, glancing at me as he took the empty plate in front of me and started dumping half of the food on the table on it. I scrunched my face up at the overflowing amount of food.
"No," I said, pushing the plate awa when he set it in front of me.
"We both know I'll just force feed you if you don't eat on your own," he muttered as he began filling his plate.
I scoffed. "I am not a child."
"You're acting like one, gorgeous."
I kicked him under the table and he kicked me back. I kicked him again.
He sighed. "This is childish."
"You fucking started it."
"You kicked me first!"
"You threatened to force feed me!"
He bit his lip as if to hold back from yelling while I glared at him. Even in front of my brother, I felt it. And from the darkening look in his eyes, I knew he felt it too. That intangible pull. The constant tension. The violent need. It made my brain fuzzy as my blood boiled.
Fucking hell.
I consciously licked my lips and his eyes followed the movement. He swallowed hard.
"Just eat what you want," he said, his voice rough.
I arched a brow, purposely taking a quick glance at his crotch. I smirked at the sight of an obvious bulge straining against his jeans.
"Are you offering?"
His nostrils flared. He looked like he was about to chew my head off.
"Eat your goddamn food," he bit out, pushing my plate towards me.
I shook my head, slipping my hand on his thigh. "It's not what I want."
"What do you want to eat then?" Jude cut in.
Our attention shifted abruptly to him. He seemed unaware, or maybe he was ignoring the sexually infused atmosphere in the room. Except for Stella who was blushing as she averted her eyes from us.
"I can have room service send something up. Anything you want," Jude went on, already getting to his feet. "You want some lobster? It's your favorite, right? There's a seafood restaurant not far from here. I can-"
"I don't fucking want lobster, Jude," I cut him off from his spiel.
He always did this, got obsessive every time I would get pissed at him. He never says it, but I knew he was paranoid I would shut him out of my life again.
His spirits waned down and I frowned at my brother not being himself. I broke him. No, ripped him apart with mere words but, I knew they did more damage than any physical blow could have done. It had him losing his head while my words hung on repeat. I knew. We were practically the same person. Only acted and spoke differently.
I sighed, pressing my temples. "Sit."
He dropped back on his chair, looking at me like the lost little boy he was inside. He may be a giant but I knew I could tear him to pieces with a few words. That's what guilt does to you. He's been blaming himself for everything that's ever happened to me, even though he had no hand in it. He still saw it his responsibility to shield me from the world.
Rick nudged my knee with his. I glanced at him and he urged me on with a nod.
"I'm sorry. I was pissed. You know how I get," I blurted out, reluctantly lifting my gaze to Jude. "The things I said..."
I averted my eyes, feeling like shit remembering the words I said out of pure rage.
"I didn't mean any of that. I lost control. I'm sorry if I hurt you. I shouldn't have taken my anger out on you like that. You didn't deserve it. You only care," I muttered in one breath, spitting them out in a rush.
I looked up and found him staring at me, as if he hadn't even heard anything I've said.
"I don't hate you," I went on, distracting myself by pushing around the food on my plate with a fork. "You just... piss me off sometimes. Everything pisses me off, actually." I chuckled, shaking my head. "And I'm sorry for doing what I did to that guy. Send my apologies to him and deposit a few in his account from mine for compensation. I probably shouldn't have dug the bottle too deep. I got carried away– wait, did he die?"
Rick and Stella choked on their food while I snapped my head up to face Jude. He shook his head, still staring at me with an odd look in his eyes.
"He's in the hospital. The injury was quite severe, but they managed to save his arm. Although it would take at least a year of rehabilitation for him to regain full function of his hand."
I grimaced. "I didn't mean to go that far. I was drunk and he pissed me off at the wrong time. I only wanted to scare him."
"I'm quite certain you achieved that."
I frowned, scratching the side of my neck. "Am I going to get in trouble for this?"
An amused smile appeared on his lips. "You're always getting in trouble."
"Yeah, but..." I cleared my throat, shifting uncomfortably. "I could have killed him."
He shook his head. "I'm sure if you wanted to kill him, you would have."
I bit my lip, lowering my eyes. "I almost got off aim when he kept trying to push me off. Fucking dumbass." I scoffed, shaking my head. "Couldn't stay still even when I had a broken bottle digging into his shoulder. I almost cut a vein in his neck. He would have bled to death if I didn't stop."
Jude chuckled, as if it would have been amusing if I killed someone because I was too drunk to stay in control.
"He got to the hospital just in time. A minute too late and he probably would have ended up in the morgue."
I cringed. "Shit. Does he have kids?"
"One son."
I cursed inwardly. "Set up a college trust for the kid."
"Already done. He can access it when he turns eighteen."
"Only to be used for educational purposes," I stated firmly.
He nodded. "I'll clarify the conditions later."
I sighed, leaning back and taking a bite of a meat filled pastry, the heavenly taste filling my tongue.
I thought about that guy, Lawrence Hurt. I may still remember his name but I sure as hell couldn't remember his face. And I almost killed him. I grimaced at the guilt that made its way into my conscience.
"Are you okay?" Jude asked, eyeing me intently.
I breathed out harshly before taking another bite of the pastry.
"I feel like shit."
"He was professionally trained in combat. If he got his arm cut off, he would have deserved it for letting you get in his head. He was done for it when he broke protocol and engaged you."
"You shouldn't have sent someone after me in the first place," I muttered bitterly. "You know it doesn't end well when you do that."
He pursed his lips. "I know, but Mr. Jenkins insisted to have security monitor you."
I rolled my eyes. "That guy seriously needs to retire already. He's getting too paranoid for his own good," I muttered, finishing off the pastry and reaching over the table to take his glass of water. "What's that shit called?" I pointed at the plate of pastry.
He smiled. "Empanada," he said, pushing the plate towards me. "You like them?"
"Fucking exquisite." I grinned, taking another piece and biting off half of it. I moaned at the creamy cheese in it. "Way better than those gourmet crap you feed me."
"Did you just insult my cooking?"
I shrugged. "Variety is the spice of life, brother. Having French cuisine for every meal gets tedious, no?"
He chuckled, rolling his eyes. "Fine. I'll learn how to make these."
"Make some when we get home, yeah?"
"About that." He paused, clearing his throat. "I got a call from one of Father's assistant earlier."
I stilled as I was going for my third piece.
"The President is celebrating his birthday. It's sort of a pre-campaign gimmick for his re-election and Father is publicly supporting his campaign, but his business in China is running long so we were requested to represent him on his behalf."
I sighed, dropping the empanada back on the plate. I ignored the dismayed glance Rick passed me.
"Have the stylist meet us upon arrival with a selection. No jewelry or pastel colored shit," I said as I got to my feet. "I don't suppose I'm allowed to bring a date?"
Jude cleared his throat, picking up his utensils and beginning to eat.
"I told Father we're on a vacation as a late celebration for our graduation and we couldn't attend the party."
I stilled, staring wideyed at him. No matter how spiteful he was towards our father, he never pointlessly provoked him with disobedience over something as trivial as a public apperance.
"Jude," I began softly, trying to settle the anxiety that he was inciting. "Je peux brûler le monde si tu veux être roi de ses cendres, mais je ne soutiendrai pas une rébellion contre notre père. Aussi insignifiant soit-il." (I can burn the world down if you wish to be king of its ashes, but I will not support a rebellion against our father. No matter how trivial.)
He glanced at me from the corner of his eye, his gaze darkened by restrained malevolence.
"Je ne veux pas que tu célébres l'un de tes violeurs, Gel. S'il n'était pas un personnage public, je l'aurais déjà mis dans sa tombe comme les autres." (I won't have you celebrate one of your rapists, Gel. If he wasn't a public figure, I would have already put him in his grave like the rest of them.)
I let out a resigned sigh, lowering myself back in my seat. "Father won't be pleased."
"Then I suppose we ought to make this count," he said, shrugging. "I already made a call to the hospital to excuse Rick for the next few days. His presence is crucial for an urgent personal matter." He glanced between us. "Which begs the question on what you two are."
He set his utensils down and pushed his plate aside, clasping his hands together as he leaned forward.
"You better not be engaging in any sort of inappropriate shenanigans behind my back. I won't tolerate it."
I groaned. "God, you make fucking sound so unappealing."
"It is unappealing if you're involved in it," he muttered dryly, his eyes sliding over to Rick who flinched at having my brother's scrutinizing glare settle on him. "I trust you have good intentions, but if you cross the line, I will not hesitate to disregard our friendship."
I kicked him under the table, glancing at Stella who merely listened in. "Hi there, sweetheart."
"Angel," Jude bit out.
I glanced at him, smiling sweetly. "Ne me teste, frère. Tout simplement parce que nous sommes en bons termes, ne signifie pas que je suis bon. Touche le et je m'en prend a elle. Et je ne vais pas y aler doucement." (Don't test me, brother. Just because we are good, doesn't mean I am good. Touch him and she takes my hits. And I won't be gentle.)
His jaw tensed, glaring at me. "Bien. C'est ta vie et je ne veux pas interférer. Dis-moi s'il te traite bien et je vais arreter de m'imposer entre vous." (Okay. It's your life and I don't want to interfere. Tell me if he's treating you well and I'll stop imposing myself between you.)
I glanced at Rick who was eyeing me questioningly. I offered him a smile before looking back at Jude.
"Il me donne envie de devenir meilleure. Est-ce suffisant?" (He makes me want to be better. Is that good enough?)
He sighed, glancing at Rick. "Assez bien." (Good enough.)