Awful Intentions: Friends-to-Lovers Romance (The Celestial Bodies Series Book 2)

by Elena Monroe

  As many times as we had fooled around, we hardly ever kissed. It was too intimate, too much of a commitment, too vulnerable. His raspberry-tinted lips hovered over mine in a teasing way that I couldn't take anymore of.

  Leaning forward, I pushed my lips against his, at the same time my crotch met his. With every nip of our lips, we were creating a fire on his lap.

  In one swift motion, he had me laying against his cold silk sheets and making himself comfortable between my legs. “Last chance, Little Lamb.”

  On his knees for me now, his fingers tangled with my respectable cotton panties tugging them down my legs, while kissing whatever skin he could.

  Nyx was gorgeous, even broken. His body was a perfect work of art; his eyes portrayed the evil he wasn't; and his hands were never truly rough. He was being gentle with me, and it made my heart feel so full I was about to explode.

  “Nyx, stop teasing…” My voice was breathy and a whimper.

  “Patient is a virtue, Little Lamb.”

  “Negligence is absent. Please.” I pushed the words out as my body writhed under him, trying to chase his touch.

  His knees met the back of my thighs, pushing them further apart before he settled between them. His body felt like fire against mine. A death I would die for this moment.

  I felt the cold metal of his piercing touch my center, creating a wave of goosebumps down my spine. His face directly over mine, his hands buried in the sheets next to my head, “This could hurt...”

  I wanted to tell him not worse than Arianna or Cotton Candy, but my throat went dry. Instead, I leaned into him and the prospect of pain when I put my arms around his neck.

  With one thrust, Nyx filled more parts of me. Controlling my breathing was long gone, replaced by soft moans and whimpers for more of him.

  “It's not over, Luna.”

  My back arched away from the sheets chasing the buildup of Nyx between my legs that I knew was going to erupt into the most intense orgasm I had ever had.

  Nyx’s hands slid under my shoulder blades like makeshift wings. He slid them down my back side, reaching my ass and pushing my hips up to line up with his as he sat back up. I wrapped my shaky legs around him with whatever control I had left, while his length thrust in me just to pull out.

  The piercing rubbed every nerve inside me, turning up the intensity.

  “Nyx...” A shaking voice that sounded broken had taken the place of mine.

  “Tell me what you want, Little Lamb.”

  He knew I wouldn't ask for anything, whether I wanted it or not. As punishment, he sped his hips up, forcing his length to fuck me faster. Repeating himself, his hands dug into my hips deeper: “What. Do. You. Want.”

  “I want to come, Nyx. I want to...” My voice practically went mute when I felt his thrusts become long and slow.

  He fell back down on top of me, and his lips nipped at my neck, trailing down to the pink buds. His sex had teeth, and it wasn't for the faint of heart. He was controlling my every moan, but meeting my demands.

  With his lips around my nipple, I felt the edge of this feeling swallow me whole. My eyes clamped shut. I bathed in Nyx, still full of him and drunk off him. He was intoxicating and drowning me in it.

  Whispering in the shell of my ear, he whispered, “Don't give up on me now, babe. It’s not over.”

  My lips fell open, and my body relaxed after tensing up just to hold onto this feeling more.

  Every movement felt like dancing with fire, and I was egging it on. With skillful ease, he flipped me over and plunged himself back inside me, gliding against my ultra-sensitive bundle of nerves.

  Chasing him again, I pushed my ass back into his hips, and his strong hands grabbed me in a way that should have made me feel fragile, but they didn't.

  “How far am I allowed, Luna?” He was just as out of breath as I was.

  He took my silence for permission when his hand collided with my ass. I jumped at his touch trying to place that into the ecstasy I already felt. He took my pleasure and mixed it with his pain.

  It wasn't long before Nyx was panting, and I felt pushed right up to the edge again. Kissing my spine in-between thrusting himself inside of me, deeper and deeper, I felt him coming undone without looking at him.

  “Luna... I'm gonna—”

  I cut off his thought and replaced it with what I knew. “Come, Nyx.” I knew if he fell apart, I would too, all over again. This time, we were both kneeling.

  The sensation wasn't like anything else I had ever experienced. No amount of fooling around could warn you how divine it is to bring a man to his knees. I felt his length pulsing between my closed thighs, his hot skin making me sweat, and the sound of our skin kissing every time he buried himself in me.

  “I’m going to bury myself inside you the same way I did my feelings, contempt, and anger. So deep inside that it isn't mine anymore… it’s ours.” His hot, grunting, words danced on my skin, like a beautiful threat, in true Nyx fashion, and it wasn't empty either.

  No, he meant every damn word, and I believed him.

  Nyx

  I was laying there looking up at the ceiling, waiting for Luna to stop shaking from the multiple orgasms she just had.

  I made her damaged goods, and I didn’t feel bad about it.

  I wanted her broken so that no one else would want her.

  All to myself, selfishly and desperately pain-staking.

  She was curled up into my side like a limp rag doll. She was exhausted, but at least she wasn’t throwing herself on a damn cross.

  Devoted to the wrong cause and wrong religion.

  “Where were you always sneaking off to after curfew?”

  It had been on my mind since she started sneaking off on her own, breaking the rules she liked so much, after Arianna arrived.

  “Nowhere…” her voice trailed off, hoping I would get bored.

  My fingers were tracing her spine, making her push her body against mine, trying to escape the tingles.

  “Another guy?” A stupid guess, but maybe insulting her would make her spill the truth.

  Her delicate hand slapped my chest as punishment. “No! I was doing research… The ritual was so messed up, and I needed to be prepared.”

  Popping an eyebrow, I turned to face her when she scrambled to cover up her tits that I already committed to memory. Her perfectly blushing buds were going to haunt my dreams.

  “Just tell me, Luna.”

  Shoving her face into my chest, she spoke low, hoping I wouldn’t hear her. “I found an object from home, and I knew it could make me brave. I didn’t know that bravery meant wielding a knife and stabbing our friend.”

  Luna had just admitted to playing with fire—not even my fire.

  “Did you tell Caellum? You know he’s looking to go home.”

  It was the safe answer. She was playing with shit none of us really knew anything about, and now she was sporting a bad side out of nowhere. It wasn’t a coincidence.

  It was Cheyanne’s black magic at work.

  Haunting us from her too early grave.

  “No, he's not innocent, because he did a ritual with us. He still abandoned us.”

  Pulling the sheet down from her chest, I exposed her tits, too big for her small framed body. More than a handful.

  I wanted to devour her again. She was admitting to doing “bad” things, and it was speaking directly to my dick.

  “He's not so bad once you spend forced time together.”

  “Don't say that to Bolton.”

  “Bolton isn't king here. He needs to focus on his cracked girlfriend.”

  I felt Luna tense under my judgment and harsh words. Arianna was catatonic. She didn't kill anyone, and I was calling her broken.

  Scrambling to make up different words, I pushed my hand into the small of her back, pushing her into me. “That's not what I meant. I don't think you're crazy. You made a decision any one of us would have made. Omari was losing it.”

  I could tell just saying hi
s name brought back the whole night when her face got that much paler. Her emerald eyes with tin rivers of rust turned darker, like the weight of the memories alone could hurt her.

  “Luna… We all have bad things we regret…” I closed my arms around her and pulled the blanket up to her neck. Guilt wasn't something I did often, but when it came to Luna, she was my guilty pleasure.

  Guilty because I knew I couldn't have her the way I wanted.

  The way my heart wanted.

  Her small, almost Disney fucking princess vibes fit right, softly against my chest. “I still want my memories, Nyx.”

  I wanted to tell her they weren't worth it.

  I wanted to tell her that it had been pretty much the same as right now.

  The clear desperation in her voice was bringing me to my knees again, for different reasons this time.

  Shifting my weight, I smoothed my hands up her arms until they were above her head invisibly bound together. Leaning down between her legs, the sheets not doing a damn thing to cover her body, I whispered into the shell of her ear, “Arcadia wasn't the first time we messed around. We’re all repeating old memories and hoping shit changes.”

  Her hips buckled under me, already needing more of her first taste. She was less afraid to want, need, desire with me.

  My dick was begging just as much as she was. Pushing my hips into hers I felt the piercing at my tip glide against her slickness, almost invading her walls too quickly.

  I didn't like my sex painful... not exactly. I just liked making it painfully slow. I like to burn all of the nerve endings off before I even dipped my dick inside.

  “Nyx…” Luna choked out my name, begging some more.

  “I'm always going to make you take what you want…” My tongue dragged her body from her hip, and my hands still held her wrists above her head, keeping her still. “…even from me.”

  Her back rounded, pushing her face up to meet mine before her lips stole a kiss with a smirk on her face. She was alright.

  Holding her wrists down tighter, I let my tongue circle the pink buds, flicking when her hips bucked and her pussy pushed onto my piercing.

  “What do you want, Little Lamb?” My hand snaked down between our bodies, tickling her every inch of skin and toying with her the same way she toyed with me… and my heart.

  ??

  Luna

  I fell asleep with my cheek pressed against Nyx’s hard chest, and when I woke up, I was surprised to see him awake, dragging a joint from his lips.

  My body felt hot and sticky just being pressed against his. He was a constantly lit fire, and I was water cooling him off.

  “I should go back to my room, huh?”

  An overwhelming feeling washed over me to leave, like I shouldn't be there. Everything went from combustible to awkward with some sleep and fresh eyes.

  He looked over at me already, pulling away with a puzzled look to his features: eyebrows tense, mouth a flat line, and eyes darkening by the minute.

  “I'm not your keeper, Luna. You wanna go, then go.”

  His voice turned cruel instead of the sultry undertone I felt against my skin a few hours ago. The sudden change in his vibrato made something in me instantly pissed off.

  I just gave him my virginity, and he wasn’t even motivated enough to tell me he wanted me to stay.

  I sat up holding the sheet to my chest, suddenly feeling very naked and cold.

  “You’re a hypocrite. You tell everyone to take what they want without permission, but you can’t even tell me to stay.”

  “What I want and what you want are two different things.”

  He didn’t elaborate; he didn’t have to. He got what he wanted, and the rest was some kind of complimentary bonus.

  I felt my body shaking and wondered if he could see me vibrating with anger from his comfortable position.

  Slipping my muumuu over my head, I grabbed my panties off his floor. He didn’t deserve any piece of me left behind.

  He made no attempts to stop me. Nyx let me do, say, demand, and take whatever I wanted, except him.

  Thankfully Arianna was sleeping soundlessly when I crawled into my bed.

  I left my phone there; I didn’t need any real world distractions from my mission when I went to Nyx’s room. Picking it up to check the time, I saw Dorian’s text message splashed over the screen.

  Dorian: I can’t wait to see you tomorrow. Goodnight, beautiful.

  Nyx called me “Little Lamb.”

  Dorian called me “beautiful.”

  The enormous amount of guilt my actions caused felt like a natural disaster I knew I wasn’t going to survive easily.

  Dorian wanted me.

  Dorian respected me.

  Dorian was another innocent person I was hurting.

  I went to Nyx for memories and left with scars on my soul.

  Luna

  B aking was something I took pride in. It took patience, attention to detail, it was therapeutic, and everyone knew when you bake angry it tastes sour.

  There wasn’t enough room for me to bake in our apartment, so Dorian offered up his kitchen for the small price of leaving some lemon squares behind.

  Sacrifices for the greater good.

  His kitchen was polished and pristine, considering it still looked like one of those display kitchens that never actually got used.

  All light, white, splashes of light grey for contrast, and marble countertops… It was my dream kitchen.

  Dorian was the nicest man… no, person, I had ever met. He was always bringing me flowers, doting on me to help carry things, and even offering to drive me home so I wouldn’t have to walk to the bus stop.

  He was perfect.

  So why couldn’t stop thinking about Nyx?

  I had given Nyx the one thing that still tied me to the good girl foundation I was desperately trying to hold onto: my virginity.

  I gave my last good girl quality to the man who wasn’t nice. He was direct and full of fire.

  Guilt was heavy to wear and even harder to cover up. I almost texted Kate to see if she knew a full coverage foundation that would help, but I couldn’t bring myself to even joke.

  The only people who knew were Kate and Arianna. If they were judging me for cheating on my boyfriend or the gift I gave away after all this time, then they hid it well.

  Kate was more openly angry with me—not judgmental, just disappointed. She called it a mistake, aggressively coming undone just to tell me what a horrible match we were and how I was sabotaging what I had with Dorian.

  He was a good guy.

  So why did I feel like the bad girl?

  Arianna was thrilled to know I finally lived and let go.

  The China doll only living for others.

  The lamb trying to dress up as the wolves around her.

  The sacrifice everyone was all too willing to use to their advantage.

  Dorian was working in the living room instead of his office upstairs, probably staying close so I didn't burn his house down in the process.

  He still held this kind of privacy I couldn’t break. He was more stubborn than Nyx.

  I was filling the pan with breadcrumbs that I made stick together with too much butter—enough to clog arteries and make you need a drink. All worth it.

  Dorian strutted into the room with a shit-eating grin on his face. Standing flush against my back, he wrapped his arms around me and kissed the side of my face.

  There wasn’t a lot of doubt I had made a mistake, but his good intentions were making a mountain out of my mole hill.

  He swiped his finger through the mixing bowl before sucking off the raw batter before leaving the room like nothing happened.

  Dorian wanted to be seen, and I saw him alright.

  I was juggling too many things. I took a sheet of brownies out to cool, and my elbow nudged something solid on the counter that I wasn’t paying attention to.

  Swiveling around to place the steaming brownies that smelled like heaven on the count
er, the sound of shattering made me jump. Spinning around, I saw the photo frame with an antique gold finishing on the floor, with the glass piece in shards.

  Immediately crouching down to the mess, I carefully lifted the frame to see signatures on the back side in ink. Not a normal ink but the kind that required a quill and more effort than just picking up a pen.

  Flipping it over, I gazed at the men in the photo from another time grouped together, like it was capturing a club roster meant for a yearbook.

  Holding the photo to set it back on the counter, I stood up, when Dorian scared me twice as much as the sound of the breaking glass.

  “What did you do?” His fingers laced around my wrist, too tightly, taking me off guard.

  “I… I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to.”

  His eyes were murderous, dark, and sinister, when he snatched the photo from my fingers.

  “Don’t be such a snoop, Luna.” His voice was a hammer pounding me further into the ground, making me feel small and stupid.

  “I’m so sorry, Dorian. I’ll get another frame tomorrow.” I was pleading, and not very well, with the adrenaline and fear pumping through my body.

  I watched him hold the photo so delicately, looking for any imperfections because of me. I wanted to reach out or touch him, but the last time we touched was when his hand grabbed my wrist so tightly I wanted to cry.

  After his inspection of the photo, he left the room just as silently as he entered, leaving me to feel even more guilty than I did.

  Finishing up baking wasn’t easy, not with my heavy heart. I knew nothing would taste as sweet as it should have.

  I left a small plate with lemon squares stacked in a clearly aesthetically pleasing way and wrapped so they’d stay fresh for when me ruining his photo faded from his memory. I folded a paper, making a tent with my dearest apologies on the inside, hoping all this would ease my guilt.

  Walking through the living room with my things, I didn’t see Dorian anywhere in sight. I didn’t have a lot of options at this time of night, Dorian lived outside the city, and I didn’t want to bother him again.