Dynasty

by Jen Davis et al.

  His gaze went between my legs, and I saw the heated look he gave me, but then his lips curled up in anger. Confused, I could only stare up at him.

  “You can leave now,” he said, his voice rough, deep, and just so perfect from our recent fucking.

  But I didn’t have a chance to love his voice when his words registered through my foggy brain. “What?” I asked. How fucking dumb of you, Evaline.

  I struggled into a sitting position, my body sore. He used me savagely, and I loved it. But now…

  He shifted his focus from my body to my eyes. “I said you can leave. The door is right there.” He nodded toward the door.

  I stared dumbly at it before moving my gaze back to the man standing in front of me, in all his naked glory. My eyes went to his semi-hard cock, which was wet with signs of our pleasure. The tingling between my pussy didn’t stop, and I shook my head.

  My eyes blinked in confusion as I wrapped the bedsheet around my body and stood up. My legs wobbled, and I almost went down. Nikolay moved forward, grabbing me by the hips and helping me find my footing again.

  When I went to lean into his body, he stepped away, leaving me cold and empty. Nikolay turned around, giving me his back. I saw my red harsh lines where I had savagely dragged my nails. His skin was scratched raw. I watched him quickly pull on his sweatpants, my mind still foggy.

  “What do you mean?” I asked. Actually, I knew what he meant. It was always like this. He would find me, fuck me, and then leave.

  Only difference was this time I came to him. But he still fucked me. And now he was making me leave.

  The blissful moment that I was completely lost in seconds ago was now shattered.

  He turned to face me, his expression so cold—almost deadly. I shivered and brought the sheet closer to my body, seeking comfort from it.

  “You came here to be fucked, and I gave your greedy cunt what it needed. Now you can fucking leave, Evaline. We both got what we wanted,” he hissed.

  Forget about hurting for him…all of a sudden, I was blinded by anger, and I lurched forward. His body was stiff as he stood still.

  When my palm met his cheek, he didn’t even flinch. The corner of his lips bled, and he touched the cut.

  His expression thundered with fury, and he grabbed me by the neck before slamming me against the wall. “I would suggest you never hit me again, Evaline. You won’t like the result. I’ll let it go this time,” he growled low.

  “I am not a whore or someone you buy from a fucking prostitution ring, Nikolay. So don’t treat me like one,” I hissed back, fighting unshed tears.

  How dared he? His words had cut deeper than he could imagine.

  You came here to be fucked, and I gave your greedy cunt what it needed. Now you can fucking leave, Evaline. We both got what we wanted.

  He spoke as if I was someone cheap…only be used for someone’s pleasure.

  “But isn’t that exactly what we’ve been doing for the last couple of years, Evaline?” he sneered into my face, his lips curled up in anger.

  Why are you angry? I wanted to scream. What have I done?

  “Beauty,” I whispered, a single tear falling down my cheek. It made a wet trail, and Nikolay’s eyes tracked it.

  His jaw clenched, and I could almost hear his teeth grinding together.

  “Evaline. I used you and you let me…what exactly does that make you, huh? I won’t be surprised if you’re fucking around. In my book, that makes you a filthy whore. So don’t be offended when I call you one,” he whispered harshly into my ear.

  My lungs squeezed as I fought for breath, his words cutting me deeper.

  This was not the man who called me Beauty.

  This was not the man who made sweet love to me.

  “You are so fucking stubborn, Nikolay! Just stop it,” I almost screamed. “Please,” my words turned to begging.

  His fingers released my neck, and I slumped against the wall, watching him take a step away.

  “You know damn well that you’re the only man I have ever been with. The only man who has ever touched me. You’re the only man who has ever made love to me—or, in your case, fucked me,” I whispered now. My words came out so soft, sounding so broken even to my own ears.

  “Too bad, you aren’t the only woman I have fucked.”

  My heart slammed to a stop, and I plastered myself against the wall, hoping it would shield me away from Nikolay’s cruel words.

  “What did you say?” I murmured, watching his face—watching for any lie.

  “Evaline, your pussy isn’t so special that I only want to fuck it alone. I have had plenty of women over the last few years who kept me company,” he said with a dry laugh.

  My fingers curled into fists at my sides, my nails biting hard into my palms.

  “You’re lying,” I whispered. “I know you are lying.”

  He shrugged. “It doesn’t matter if you believe me or not.”

  I stayed silent, my eyes boring into his. Swiping away the tears, I opened my mouth to say something, but then snapped it shut again.

  Me, who never ran out of words, was now speechless.

  “Leave,” he said, pointing at the door.

  I stared at him before taking in a shaky breath. “I have known you for eleven years. I have loved you for eleven years, Nikolay. I know you better than anyone else. When you were brought back to us, I knew we would never be the same again. I knew that, and I accepted it. Seven years and I am still fighting for you,” I whispered.

  “Even when you push me away, I’m still here. I’m still waiting for you, just like I promised before.” I paused and wiped away from tears. “I am still waiting. Why can’t you see that?”

  “I never asked you to wait,” he replied quietly.

  Closing my eyes, I brought a hand to my lips—trying hard to hold back my cries. I thought I was strong; I thought I could be strong for both of us.

  But with each day, I became weaker, my heart becoming more fragile.

  Until it was completely broken.

  He turned away from me, facing the other wall. The muscles in his back were rigid. The scars looked hauntingly beautiful, and I choked back a sob.

  I loved him…even when he was being a fucking beast, I loved him.

  “Then tell me you don’t love me,” I murmured into the darkness of the room.

  His hands curled into fists, his shoulders straightening like he had been hit.

  “I don’t love you.”

  I rubbed my chest, trying to get rid of the pain, but it wouldn’t go away. It hurt. It hurt more than I could ever imagine.

  It hurt more than when I saw him bloodied and broken.

  “You’re a shitty liar, lyubov moya. Look me in the fucking eyes and tell me you don’t love me.”

  I waited for him to turn around and almost wished he wouldn’t. Nikolay could never lie to me. He could never look into my eyes and lie. As long as his back was to me and he whispered those words, I knew he was lying.

  But then he turned around.

  His eyes met mine, our gazes locked. His were empty, dark…and soulless.

  “I don’t love you, Evaline.”

  I wished in that moment that I had been shot straight in the heart…I wished I had died. It would have hurt less than hearing him say those words while holding my gaze.

  “You don’t love me?” I whispered brokenly.

  “No. I don’t love you, Evaline,” he said again.

  My lungs squeezed, and I rubbed my chest harder as I fought for breath. My heart felt heavy, and my stomach rolled, like I was going to throw up.

  “Is that your final decision?” I asked, my back straightening even when all I wanted to do was crumple to the floor and just disappear.

  “Yes.”

  I wanted to kneel at his feet and beg him.

  “When I walk out of this room, Nikolay, it’s over. Everything is over, do you understand that? You can’t come to me when you lose your mind again—when you fall back into the d
ark and you completely lose it, you can’t come to me anymore. When your mind is fucked up again and even when your nightmares are fucking killing you, you can’t come to me. I have been doing this for seven years. You’d come to me and I would open my arms and hold you when you needed me. And when you don’t need me anymore, you walk away. You can’t do that anymore,” I said softly.

  He didn’t blink, like my words meant nothing. Nikolay just stared at me.

  “I will give you nothing. Is that what you want?” I asked, hoping he would say no…hoping he would hold me and apologize. I just wanted his arms around me; I just wanted to melt into his embrace.

  But he gave me nothing.

  “Yes.”

  One word. Just one fucking word and he ended everything.

  “I won’t wait for you anymore. I won’t fight for you anymore,” I whispered, my tears blinding my vision.

  He nodded without a word.

  We stared at each other—and I hoped he could see what he had done. He broke us. He broke me. I stared into his eyes, hoping I could see even one bit of humanity in it.

  Nikolay just looked…dead.

  Finally, I shifted my gaze away, and I held the bedsheets tightly around my body as I took a step forward. He didn’t move as I walked closer.

  His eyes stayed on my face as I went on my tip-toes. My mouth touched his scarred cheek, and I laid gentle kisses the length of his scars.

  He hissed quietly, a quick intake of breath that broke me further.

  I stepped back, our eyes meeting again. Swiping my tears away and with a final glance, I walked away.

  I closed the door behind me and leaned against it.

  A minute later, something crashed against the wall. I heard him—his anger, his pain.

  “You are such a shitty liar, Nikolay.”

  But it didn’t matter anymore. His words had hit me right where he wanted them to. There was no taking them back—he couldn’t unbreak us.

  Touching the doors, I placed my lips softly against it.

  “Good bye, lyubov moya.”

  Chapter 12

  Viktor

  I tried to ignore Ayla’s moan when I passed their room, but my feet stopped, and I leaned against the door, my chest aching.

  The bed squeaked, and she moaned louder—Alessio’s name on her lips.

  Not being able to bear it any longer, I stalked away, and at the end of the hall where my room was, I slammed the door harder than needed, but the anger inside of me, the buried jealousy, was now burning.

  I tugged my tie off roughly and practically ripped my shirt off as I got naked. I needed a cold fucking shower and to fuck Ayla out of my head.

  But it was late, and I had an early flight tomorrow morning. No pussy for me tonight. Turning my neck left and right, I tried to release the tension there. My skin prickled with the need to hit something and fuck someone. Ride her hard and rough—fuck both of us into a coma so I could get the thought of my brother’s wife out of my head.

  I got into the water and turned the water to cold, letting it seep into my bones until I was shivering and almost blue. It felt like even my teeth were shivering. After my mind started to numb with my body, I turned the water to hot.

  It was painful and practically suicide but exactly what I needed.

  My body started to hurt. It felt like my skin was being scratched raw, but I bore with it. The pain helped me clear my fucked-up mind.

  When my body was warm enough and no longer hurting, I sagged against the shower wall and just closed my eyes.

  My head was hurting like a son of a bitch, and for the first time in my life, I wanted to escape here. I wanted to escape seeing Alessio and Ayla together.

  They were happy, and I really was fucking happy for them. No one deserved happiness more than these two. And they belonged together. They were one. Fated and all that shit.

  Yet the small part of me that was hurting every time, I couldn’t stop it. The Devil flicking his tail and laughing on my shoulder wasn’t any help, either.

  I needed some kind of relief…and I knew full well how to find it.

  No pretty pussy…then my hand gotta do. It wasn’t the same, but the only substitute I got.

  I needed to come, find some fucked-up kind of relief, and then sleep for a century. Yup, that plan sounded much better than me sulking after someone who was forbidden to me.

  I quickly soaped up my body, and my hand drifted down my dick. I stroked myself once, twice, and my cock jerked as I put more pressure. It wasn’t enough.

  I fisted my cock tight, pumping my length hard. The water continued to cascade around me, giving me the right lubrication. My hand glided around my dick easily, and I almost hissed when the pressure became worse.

  I leaned my forehead against the wall, my breathing getting heavier with each second. I closed my eyes and knew who would be appearing in my fantasy.

  But instead of seeing black hair and green eyes, I was surprised to see someone else.

  Eyes that looked beautifully haunted and blonde hair so smooth, almost silky.

  What the fuck?

  My eyes snapped opened, and my hardness jerked in my fist, pre-cum covering the tip, and my balls grew tight between my legs.

  I pumped my throbbing dick harder, and the ache intensified with the desperate need to come. Closing my eyes again, the vision of the beautiful nun still didn’t escape me.

  I was assaulted with every image of her. It was a sudden change. From Ayla to an image of the exotic, mute nun.

  Confused, I rubbed my cock harder and let my body mix with the pleasure of what my mind was conjuring.

  I imagined her lying down on the bed. My hands slowly removing the ugly long dress covering her body. I would be undressing her—prepare her for every one of my sinful thoughts.

  She was a nun made for sinning, and I would gladly take it.

  I imagined how she would be naked, pale, beautiful, rosy as she would blush—just beautiful. When I had seen her, her body had been fully covered. Only her head was visible.

  But that was the thing about imagination. You could turn it into anything you wanted.

  And that was exactly what I did. In my head, I undressed her so that instead of a fucking nun, she was laid bare—ready for my cock.

  The idea of her being forbidden, covered and shielded away from my gaze, made me want her more. The idea of jerking my cock off for the mute forbidden girl did strange things to my head and apparently, my dick, because it obviously fucking liked that.

  Behind my closed eyes, her naked body laid in front of me, and I pushed my knees between her legs, spreading her wide for my eyes. Her pretty cunt glistened with her need, her wetness coating every inch of her labia and her pussy lips.

  I imagined thrusting two fingers into her needy pussy, and she would be weeping for me, dripping with wetness, and only I would be able to satisfy her. Her face would twist in pain because of how tight she would be and then her expression—it turned into pleasure.

  I wouldn’t be able to hear her moans, but the look on her face would be enough. I jerked my cock faster now. My legs shook, and I pressed against the wall.

  I moved upward over her body, feasting on her pretty tits while the tip of my cock rested against her tight entrance. I drove into her pussy in one single, powerful thrust.

  She screamed under me, clawing at my shoulder. After a few thrusts, her pussy milked my cock as she found her orgasm.

  “Fuck. Fuck. Shit!” I swore, punching the wall. This was a bad fucking idea, but I couldn’t stop myself.

  I hated to admit that I fucking loved the idea of making the mute nun sin. The Devil whispered dark promises into my eyes.

  Oh, you are going to take her. And you are going to make her sin…and she is going to sin so beautifully.

  One last pump, my fist as tight as a pussy could get—although it was fucking nothing to the real thing. My balls tightened as I imagined her body writhing underneath mine as I filled her up nicely with my cum. />
  Her cunt would be full—and she would be begging me for more.

  The pressure finally released, and I came with a hiss, my head banging against the wall. My legs trembled, and I fought to hold myself up. Thick ropes of cum shoot out, coating my hands and instantly being washed off by the raining water.

  I kept fisting my cock until every last drop was spent…for the beautiful blonde girl. Squeezing my eyes shut, I tried to get my breathing under control.

  What a fucking mess.

  But a mess that I apparently just took a liking to. Or should I say, my cock took a sudden liking to her.

  I quickly washed off and walked out, drying myself and wrapping a towel around my waist. My legs dragged behind me as I made my way to the bed. Dropping on it, I removed the towel and crawled under the covers.

  My eyes started to droop without any problem, fatigue finally taking over. Jerking off always did the job.

  But when I closed my eyes again, all I saw was her.

  “She isn’t part of the plan,” I muttered to myself. Get your head together. Don’t think with your dick, asshole.

  But my thoughts did nothing to appease my sudden hunger. A hunger for a girl that wasn’t meant for me.

  “She isn’t part of the game,” I said again.

  I was almost drifting off to sleep and felt my lips tilting up in a smile.

  Maybe she could be…it would be our little secret.

  That was my last thought before sleep took over and dragged me into the darkness.

  Where she was waiting for me.

  ***

  “Are you sure you don’t want to meet Ayla one last time? She’ll be disappointed,” Alessio said when we reached the main doors.

  “No. Don’t wake her up. Let Maila sleep too. I will see them—and everyone else—when I get back home again,” I muttered.

  He stared at me silently and then nodded. I could almost hear his thoughts.

  Will you be back home? What happens if you can’t make it—what happens if you never make it back?

  The thought left me reeling because it was true. What if I never make it out alive?

  But I quickly shook my head. Be optimistic, fucker. Like how you’re optimistic about getting pussies. Just like that.