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

by Elena Monroe

  Nyx’s hand yanked me upright in one motion off of Caellum’s lap, pushing me behind him. “Don’t test me. My niceties don't mimic loyalty!” he barked into Caellum’s face.

  Caellum sat back, not at all affected by Nyx’s anger or my satisfaction in it. I wanted Nyx to feel me hate Cotton Candy on his lap by mimicking his own actions, and it worked.

  “Don’t you have business to attend to?” Caellum’s head dropped to the side, looking at Cotton Candy, and Nyx forced me to sit next to Caellum at a safe distance.

  “Don’t piss me off, Luna.”

  Slipping to the end of my seat, I crossed my legs dramatically so that he could see my panties in the process. “I’m. Not. Afraid. Of. You. Anymore.”

  With his hand on the seat next to me, he leaned down and whispered, “You should be, Luna. Death, sex, love… all a fine line in our relationship.”

  I watched Nyx stand up and drag Cotton Candy behind him, and I lean forward to watch him slip into one of the private rooms.

  Guess now all I could do was focus on why I had come here: revenge. Dorian’s death. Maybe answers I didn’t get to hear when Caellum explained things, because I could never hear what I needed to when Nyx was in the room.

  Nyx

  I had every intention of doing business tonight when I texted Cotton Candy with my phone, while her brother’s sat on the table in front of me.

  I needed answers, and she wasn’t leaving Nectar of the Gods until I got them.

  She wasn’t a girl. She was a traitor and liar—two things we didn’t get over easily in the circle. Both were punishable by death, so roughing her up wasn’t frowned upon.

  Caellum was here often anyways, drowning out his sorrows with Oracle and booze. He said he didn’t do his best thinking with a barrier between reality and mortality.

  It was pure coincidence I ran into him here. He made having a backup easy, if things get… messy.

  Pushing the already sloppy Cotton Candy, too many drinks, into the private room, she stumbled onto the plush velvet couch. She missed the stripper pole, thank god. I needed her to be conscious to answer questions, but drunks were just more honest.

  “She’s a nobody. Why do you let her bother you?” She was on her knees, slipped off the couch, pawing at my belt already—not even sixty seconds into privacy.

  She made this too easy. She put every syllable into the word casual, while Luna made me work for it, made me painfully wait for permission, and even then, it was still work.

  I wouldn’t truly be Hades’s son if I liked easy.

  “I don’t want to talk about her…” I moved past her, landing on the seat, and I watched her move with me, sitting between my legs, still ready to give me what I wanted with not much benefit in my line of sight.

  Why indulge me, if she isn’t getting any information from me?

  She had never asked about my friends once, my life, where I come from, my tattoo…

  “What do you want, handsome?” Her hands ran up my thighs, and I could feel my dick reacting the same way it always did to her.

  That couldn’t happen, so sitting up straight and looking her in the eyes, I said, “I want you… to tell me how you know Dorian.”

  Her hands stilled, and the fear on her face outweighed the alcohol she was wearing comfortably.

  She sat back on her heels, giving up on my belt. “Isn’t that your little plaything’s boyfriend? The preppy old guy?”

  If that’s all he was, then why were my words having a sobering effect on her now?

  Dorian was older than us, and it showed. But he wasn’t old enough to set off alarms in strangers that Luna might be his daughter or a victim of some sick fetish.

  She was grasping at straws in her answers, trying to tell me what I wanted to hear.

  Fetish.

  Victimizers.

  Taboo.

  A flash of Kate’s moans filling my dad’s bedroom back in Olympus was still burned into the category of sick in my head. All taboos lead back to that memory.

  Pushing it from my head, I closed my hand around Cotton Candy’s throat. Pulling Dorian’s phone from my back pocket, I showed her the messages from her number to prove she knew the “preppy old guy” all too well.

  “I’ll ask you again… How do you know Dorian, sweetheart?”

  She smirked, even when my hand got tighter around her throat. If I let myself dissect this long enough, it would result in me being the reason why Luna was hurt by Dorian. I let Cotton Candy distract me. I let my jealousy muzzle my opinions, and I pushed Dorian to hate me more and more with every tiny threat.

  I wouldn’t survive being the only one bearing this weight.

  No, Cotton Candy was involved, and she was going to confess, relieving me of carrying all of the burden.

  I snapped, barking in her face, “Start talking!”

  She arched her back, like I wasn’t putting enough threat into this. Maybe I wasn’t. Seeing Luna’s fucked up features really can put a guy off violence.

  “I don’t know him. He’s just some guy who asked about you and Luna.” Choking out the words, I stared into her eyes looking for a lie.

  “These texts seem friendly, not curious. Lie better.”

  Her smirk grew. She knew I was impatient, and none of this really mattered, because I was done with her and, well, Dorian was going to be handled.

  “Jealous, baby? Dorian finally sealed the deal with Luna, and you can’t stand someone else making her happy?” She wiggled from my hand around her throat and pushed me down straddling me. I don’t know if I let her.

  She whispered in my ear, “Wanna make her jealous?”

  Her head fell back, and the perfect moans poured from her mouth, while her hips dug into mine. While she covered up all the fear, I still could see it lurking under a few layers.

  The door to the private room flew open without any real warning, thank the gods we weren’t really fucking. Luna stomped her way over to us and grabbed Cotton Candy’s hair with no sign of innocence left. Any floating around, making her confused, seemed to have been evicted.

  I sat there, watching Luna drag Cotton Candy by her half pink and half blue hair, which clashed with all the black in my life. I crossed my legs at my ankles and watched Luna be exactly who I loved.

  Moody as I am.

  Irrational as fuck.

  Suspicious only of me.

  Abandonment issues screaming for me to make her mine.

  None of those bullshit traits that kept her dormant for others to use to their advantage. The failed ritual triggered everything I knew she could be—just like me.

  Once she dragged Cotton Candy out of the door, she stepped over her, closing the door and locking it behind her. I couldn’t take my eyes off of her when she strutted up on the small platform and twirled around the pole, like she knew exactly how.

  “Tell me what you want, Nyx. I need to hear you say it.” Her raspy voice spilled from her full lips, and I was wrapped around her damn finger.

  Using my own words against me.

  She could tell me to kill Cotton Candy and Caellum in one go, and I wouldn’t blink twice. They'd be dead with zero guilt.

  “Maybe I don’t want anything.”

  “Everyone wants something. You have to tell me, or I can't give it to you.” She showed off her legs, longer in those ridiculous heels. “How about I tell you what I want?”

  I stayed silent, letting her toy with me and the pole, while the oxygen in the room depleted.

  “I wanted to be good, and I thought Dorian mirrored that. If he was a good person, I would be forced to match him. Sometimes evil wears a pretty face. He was using me to get to the circle. I found his journals. The weak link.”

  Sitting up, I reached out to touch her, but she kept walking around the pole, only letting my fingertips graze her milky pale skin.

  “I fought giving in to you for so long. The Prince of the Underworld. The cruel Australian. The Scorpio. You should be evil, but you're just the right amount o
f good, because I don't wanna be good anymore, Nyx.”

  “Get down from there before you hurt yourself, Luna. You don't know what you want right now. Jealousy is distracting.”

  The platform of her heel caught my shoulder and kept me at a safe distance from helping her down. “I'm tired of people telling me how to feel, protecting me from feeling bad, acting like I'm fragile... You know I'm not fragile, Nyx.”

  Her heel pressed into my shoulder more. “Luna…” was all I could come up with. She was blooming into exactly who I knew she was, and I couldn't argue with her new logic.

  Cotton Candy made her jealous, but Dorian showed her evil always grows in the most innocent places.

  “Pull my stocking down,” she demanded, as her leg teased me, and her panties were on full display.

  “You don't know what you want right now. Sleep on things.”

  “Don't tell me what I want, Nyx. I want you.”

  I wasn't giving her another out. If she wanted me, then she was going to get me—pure evil boxed in with good intentions.

  My hands smoothed up her thigh-highs, while my lips planted disorganized kisses up her leg, until my teeth found the top of her stocking. The inside of Luna’s were sensitive, more than a natural sensitive, and my teeth dragging along her made her whimper.

  “Nyx, tell me what you want.”

  She wasn't going to relieve the ache growing against my zipper until I matched her confessions.

  “You're too good for me, Luna. It doesn't matter what I want. You'll never be mine.”

  Tugging her stocking down to her ankle, I pulled off her chunky heels and pulled them the rest of the way off. Offering my hand, she gave me her other leg for me to repeat the same kind of teasing.

  Barefoot on the platform, I watched her tug down her panties under her dress, and my eyes were glued to her movements.

  Sitting back, I made my lap available, and she straddled me carefully, already letting her fingers undo my belt between us. “You aren't listening. I'm not good anymore.”

  She kept repeating that she wanted me, and I knew why. We had both fought it for so long that it felt surreal, dreamlike, to want this so freely.

  She pushed her finger to my lips, and my hands grabbed a fist full of her ass, while she coaxed my zipper down too slowly. She used both hands to pull down the band on my boxer briefs watching me spring out for her.

  Pushing her closer to me she wrapped her hand around my length and toyed with me—slow, torturous movements. Her hand pushed up my length, and her lip sucked into her own mouth when she saw the bead of pre-come against the metal of my piercing.

  My abs were tight, and I wasn't letting any air escape, as her hand pushed up and down, like I wasn't already dying to be between her legs.

  My hands crumbled her silk dress up to her hips, exposing her to me. Her already glistening slit was taunting me and forcing me to weigh which part of her would feel better when Luna was a cure altogether.

  Cure for my cruelty.

  Cure for my silence.

  Cure for my jealousy.

  My fingers worked between her legs easily finding her bundle of nerves and making her melt on my lap. She moaned my name on command, but I never said it out loud, “Nyx.”

  I squeezed her small ass, while I watched her grind against my fingers, wanting more.

  I wanted more too. I wanted more than this. I wanted her heart, lungs, motivation, dedication, death, sex, and whatever the fuck comes between.

  Taking my hand back, only for her to whimper without my touch, I guided my tip to her slit, letting her wetness coat me before she sat down on me.

  Her hips wouldn't stop swaying on my lap eager for more, when I slipped right inside where I wanted to be.

  “Fuck, Luna, your so goddamn tight.”

  Leaning forward, I watched her narrow hips, boobs that were too big for her frame, and ass bouncing on top of me in the mirrors covering a lot of the surfaces in this private room.

  “Nyx…” Her hands grasped my forearms as she rode me, and I tried to keep my own release dormant a little longer.

  I took pride in myself for lasting easily through making girls come at least twice, but Luna was poisoning all my sanity. I couldn't think, speak, last longer… do anything I needed to with her.

  She was right. This felt good, but that didn't mean there was any good left in us anymore.

  “Nyx, not yet, please…” She begged me, while her hips picked up the pace. She was close, and she could feel my throb and jerk between her legs—a clear warning I was coming undone.

  Turning her over, I switched our positions, leaving her teetering on the edge of the booth and breathing heavily, before I pushed my length back inside of her.

  I was out of breath, and my grunts were erratic, just being this close to Luna.

  Without her, it was like I was stumbling through death, barely living, barely breathing, and this was all the life she was breathing back into me.

  My palms pressed into the booth, boxing her in, and I felt her teeth dig into my chest. The sting of pain was something we never toyed with, and I wasn’t opposed.

  Hurting people was in my blood, but only what you deserved, never unjust.

  Leaning into her more, I caught her by the shell of her ear, in between grunts and groans: “Little death with your sex, baby?”

  “We died enough without being each other's, Nyx.” Her out of breath tone was holding back moans just to get the words out as I drove my length inside her over and over.

  Letting the formulation of words fall out of reach, I pushed my hips to meet hers and watched her back arch, hoping it helped somehow.

  Relief was only coming from one place, and it wasn't going to be an arched back.

  “Turn over, baby…” My hands twisted her hips before my words sank in, and I folded over her shoving myself back between her thighs pressed together.

  She felt even tighter with her small ass in the air and thighs trapping how much room I really had to work.

  She always felt like a challenge.

  I ran my tongue along her spine, trying to adjust to the grip Luna had on me—a grip I didn’t ever want to be without, a grip that felt like she was finally claiming me when her hips pushed back, shoving her ass into me and claiming every inch.

  “You even taste sinful…” My tongue licked up to the base of her neck, claiming every inch of her too.

  Small whimpers fell from her mouth between moans as my hand wrapped loosely around her neck from behind, with my body weight on top of her keeping her in place.

  “Nyx, make me…” Her voice deadpanned and fell short of telling me her demands.

  “Make you what, Luna? Come?” My tongue licked her ear and planted kisses on her neck as I thrusted into her from behind.

  “Make me… yours.”

  I had a million ideas of how I could make her mine—a million different ways she could mean.

  My egotistical brain and primal urge to need her told me to make her mine in one bad decision.

  Thrusting into her became about depth and not pulling out just to fill her again. This was the destruction and recreation of us; it wasn’t butterflies and windstorms.

  “Say it again, Luna. Tell me what you want…” My fingers around her neck closed, but only enough to excite her. She liked a little danger.

  “Make me yours, Nyx. Please.” Her whimpers sent me over the edge as my hips pushed the furthest she’d let me, as I grunted into her ear. I emptied every ounce of me between her legs.

  Now.

  Forever.

  I made her mine in more ways than she asked for.

  The rules were different now, here. We didn't even know if we could create more life outside of Olympus. Nothing was for certain. All we knew was the rules didn't exist anymore.

  I stayed on top of Luna, still inside her, catching my breath, until I finally pulled away and collapsed on the couch. I wasn't going to apologize when I wasn't sorry. “Hey…” I looked at her and begge
d her to look at me.

  Her green eyes finally shifted my way when she swiped her panties up off the floor, waiting for me to say anything, something.

  “You know I love you, right?”

  As if what we did was an act of hate. We both knew our sex was a glimpse at the truth.

  A smile turned her pout into hope. “I'm not the one needing convincing...”

  Capturing her chin, I kept our eyes locked. “I wanna hear you say it, Luna.”

  I was demanding her to tell me that she loved me. I needed to hear it. I wanted to hear it until it felt real.

  “I love you, Nyx. Always have. Probably always will…” A smirk at her last bit made my smile bigger.

  This Luna certainly wasn't good anymore… and thank fucking Olympus.

  Luna

  I thought I would feel more vulnerable admitting how much I felt for Nyx, but all I felt was an overwhelming sense of being full.

  I was full of Nyx, and I didn’t know how I denied myself this feeling for so long.

  It was always there, inside me, brewing under layers of false ideas.

  The kind of ideas that lure you deeper inside your flaws and make you desperate to seek out anything to make them feel more perfect.

  Even after I confessed my innermost thoughts, turning myself inside out, he didn’t care how gross, bloody, pretty, or confusing my insides were. He loved me regardless.

  Nyx loved me, even when Dorian was calling me his girlfriend, and his hands proved it.

  Nyx stood up, fetching his boxer briefs, still at his ankle, and it was hard to ignore how hard he was still.

  I was full of him, and he was never fully satisfied with me.

  It made me love him more.

  “You love me… no matter what?”

  His voice sounded unsure, even though he just made me his in a way we couldn’t take back.

  I nodded my head, wary of what was coming next.

  “I have to handle some things.”

  He didn’t elaborate, and now my mind was working to solve the mystery.

  “Things? Like break up with Cotton Candy?” My lips smirked at the edges, looking up at him with the odd sensation of him still between my legs.