“If I could, I would. But I can’t, so I shan’t.”
“This is serious,” Oliver rebuts with exasperation as Lori grabs his hand.
“The way you are meddling in your arse-grown brother’s affairs is seriously wrong. What are you going to do next? Fire up the old penis flattener while I go fill the acid pit?”
“That sounds like too much work,” Uriel grumbles, sipping his glass of whiskey.
“Crikey, Ollie. Take your head out of your pants and look at them.” Lori waves at us sitting on the armchair. “It’s done.”
“I don’t want normal,” Sully suddenly states. “I want Ezra.” He grabs my hand and moves it on his lap, fingers tangled with mine.
His last statement echoes in my head, and a feeling of profound satisfaction engulfs me. I already knew he wanted me—of course he did—but coming out of his lips feels fucking good.
“You want me, Little Chick.” The smugness in my voice is clear as day. I turn his face on the side and brush my thumb over his lower lip.
His eyes soften. “I don’t think I have ever felt more alive than when you are with me,” he admits with a watery smile. I kiss him, just a peck—with a little tongue, to fuck with Oliver.
“You deserve more, Sul. I want more for you.” His brother’s voice breaks.
I sigh, fucking pissed now. Oliver doesn’t get it. I lack the depth required for genuine emotional connection, I can form superficial bonds, but true affection remains elusive due to my limited emotional reactivity. Obsession, though,thatI can do. And I’ve turned into a possessive beast when Sully is concerned.
I look straight into Oliver’s eyes as I declare, “It’s an insatiable hunger. I don’t just want Sully. I need him to satisfy the hole he created inside me. Touching him, smelling him, watching him till my eyes start burning, my fingers turn numb, my nose can’t scent anything but his honey-peach skin. That’s not how deep my fixation goes. No. There’s more, a lot fucking more. I’ll gut whoever tries to hurt him or take him away from me. I’m a psychopath and an assassin, aren’t I?” My gaze turns as cold as ice. “And I won’t let you or anybody else dictate what I can and can’t do with what’s mine.”
Silence falls over the room. I don’t know nor care what they are all thinking. The only person I give a damn about is in my lap. I look down at Sully, and his eyes are twinkling. Not afraid in the least by my consuming need for him. Fucking. Perfect.
He pulls my head down and whispers low in my ear, “You walked into my life like you’ve always been there. You take my breath away. I want you to be obsessed with me even more.” A little giggle leaves his mouth, and fuck, how much I want to silence it with my cock down his throat.
“There it is, they are crazy and crazier for each other,” Ramiel says. “They remind me of someone, but who?…oh wait, you and Rague.”
Oliver sniffs in disagreement.
“He waited months.” Raphael decides to say his bit. “I wouldn’t have. I would have probably killed you to get to Michael.”
Raguel growls at him warningly.
“It pains me to say it, but Raph is right.” Uriel begrudgingly agrees. “You can’t get in the middle of a psychopath and his fixation.”
“Amen.” I grab a glass from the coffee table and take a long sip of whiskey after letting Sully wet his lips with it.
“Especially when his obsession is reciprocated,” Raguel finishes, hammering the final nail into Oliver’s resolve. His green eyes–the color so similar to Sully’s left one–are shadowed. He cusses.
“You told me imperfection is where love thrives. This?” Sully gestures at him and me. “Works. We work.”
The two brothers look at each other for a moment, and suddenly all the battle leaves Oliver’s body. He looks at me. “If you hurt him in any way, I’ll kill you and bury your body in the woods where insects will feast on your flesh until you are nothing but a forgotten, useless pile of bones.”
I scoff. None of that will ever happen. But Sully’s elbow poking my ribs makes me nod at his delusional brother.
“Now let’s talk about our plans with Nine.”
SULLY
The sun has only just begun to move over the edge of the planet. The bedroom is still filled with shadows.
Something gentle touches my mouth, persistently rubbing my lips, then brushing my cheek. It flips my hair back and traces a path down my neck onto my bare shoulder. It lingers over the bite mark, then it moves to my spine and back up my nape. I moan in bliss. I am literally sprawled on top of my boyfriend, and everything is…good.
Almost everything.
“I’m sorry Ollie forced you to stay away from me,” I whisper.
