“Yes,” I moan, unable to manage anything more.
“Thank fuck.” He slams into me, his hips slapping my ass, his length filling me to the brim.
The fullness…the pressure…the piercings… I can’t take any more and shatter with a cry of his name.
His cock thickens, stretching me farther, and I gush, clenching him tight. He hisses and pounds into me, his rhythm desperate and relentless. He jerks inside me and comes with a primal growl.
I collapse onto the mattress beside him, drifting in a pleasure haze, every nerve ending alive and humming.
“Te amo.” He peppers my face with kisses and brushes his fingers through my hair. “I can’t wait to fuck you properly.”
My eyes flutter shut, breath uneven, pulse still hammering. “Sir, I’m not sure I’d survive if you did.”
Chapter 8
Charlie
The security feed picks up movement in the backyard, and my video game freezes. I mutter a curse. I was seconds from wiping out an enemy.
The split-screen shows Desi and Dante emerging from the pool house—Desi with a towel over his shoulder, Dante with an unlit cigarette dangling from his lips.
I return to the game, closing the split-screen, but I keep glancing at the main security feed, watching them. Desi is in swim trunks, shirtless, while Dante is in faded black jeans, threadbare at the knees, and a black band tee.
My focus flits between Desi’s athletic physique diving into the water and Dante lighting up as he straddles a lounger. I shouldn’t be gawking at them, but they’re fascinating—scientifically, of course—identical twins, mirroring DNA, exact replicas, but possessing uniquely separate personalities.
Dante, despite being the same age, is the protective older brother and leader. He’s serious and conscientious. Desmond has the goofy, happy-go-lucky vibe of a younger sibling.
The night of the attack, Dante ordered Desi to remain upstairs while he took care of the first intruders downstairs. Hisgoal was to keep his brother—and Aurora—safe, although Desi is equally capable.
It makes me wonder why, if they’re the same, Dante is so protective and Desi is so dependent on him. Has it always been that way? Or did something happen? Nature versus nurture—my inquisitive brain wants to know, for research purposes. Perhaps they’re just fiercely loyal and perfectly complement one another.
Desi floats on his back and gazes up at the stars. Secretly, I check out his wet body glistening in the pool lights. He’s muscular but not beefy, over six feet tall, with dark hair and onyx eyes. It’s a struggle every time I see him—orthem. I want to stare until my bizarre infatuation is sated. Instead, I avoid them.
My character is filled with bullets, snatching my attention. I release a stream of expletives and pulverize the controller buttons. Serves me right for ogling.
I engross myself in the game, repositioning my team. When I check the security feed next, the patio is empty. I dismiss it, but a pang of regret hits me. I wish I were bold enough to join them in the pool without requiring an explicit invitation. Even if I got one, though, I wouldn’t go.
First, I’d need shorts that fit. Nobody here is my size. Then, I’d have to take my shirt off, exposing my burns to their curious gazes.Like you stare at them?Truebut different. They’re physically attractive; I’m mediocre at best and scarred.
Desi’s gamertag appears onscreen, joining my team—something he’s done countless times over the past two weeks. Today, they moved into the pool house to be close to Aurora while Ethan and Jax are traveling. Before now, they were staying at Jackson’s downtown penthouse, and I was with Reece at Ethan’s apartment.
“Piccino,” Desi’s deep voice, a purr against the crack of gunfire and the metallic clink of reloading, filters through my headset.
My brows knit together. I’m alone online because I don’t enjoy listening to the yelling, but he can’t be talking to me.
“Piccino,” he drawls once more.
Piccino? What does that even mean? “Are you talking to me?” The controller vibrates in my hand, a sniper trying to take me down.
“Who else would I be talking to?” He chuckles, low and breathy, almost playful.
The sharpshooter drops from the rooftop with a satisfying thunk, thanks to Desi.
“Ah…your scary brother?”
His chuckle becomes a full-blown laugh. “Definitely not.”
Heavy silence falls between us, broken only by artillery fire and the frantic clicking of buttons as we coordinate to eliminate the next unit.
