Page 95 of Blood Oath
Dear gods, the sounds she made. That soft panting and the way she whispered what she needed. Seeing that pretty little pussy on display and glistening, and her soft gasp when Silas pushed in.
I need to fuck her like that. With an audience so they’ll see how much she’s mine.
Oh gods.
That mental picture is too much to take. I pump my dick hard until I come with a harsh groan, burying my face in my arm against the wall to try to muffle the sound. But as soon as the pleasure ends, I turn and slump against the wall, glaring at the ceiling.
This is hell. Whichever god or entity designed my curse is a damn sadist. I have never been as turned on in my life as I was in that hall. But as always, it was me outside looking in. Aching and so damn lonely.
Get over yourself. You have to be lonely.
Cleaning myself up quickly, I catch a glance in the mirror as I leave the room. The flush is still fading from my cheeks, but otherwise, I look the way my family always wanted me to.
Collected. Cold. Unfeeling.
But the truth is, I feel everything far too deeply. Especially where Maven is concerned.
I return to the kitchen downstairs, pacing in front of the long window overlooking the darkening twilight outside. I shouldn’t have come here in the first place. It’s dangerous. The others would have tried to strong-arm me into it if I’d resisted more, but the truth is? I couldn’t fucking stay away from her.
I’m weak.
And since I can’t trust myself to stay away from her, maybe I need to take a page from her book and push her away. The idea of hurting Maven kills me, but that’s a hundred times more preferable to what my curse will do if it gets triggered.
“You look cold.”
Her voice pulls me up short, and I turn to face her quickly, slipping my hands into my jacket pockets so she won’t see the frost that continuously blooms there in her presence. Maven stands in the kitchen dressed in her typical attire. She studies me thoughtfully, her face carefully composed as it usually is. My fingers itch to weave through her dark, damp hair. She clearly just showered.
“I’ve never felt cold,” I assure her stiffly, desperately putting on the aloofness I wear like a shield.
She smirks, which makes my heart do somersaults. “Physically. Metaphorically, you don’t strike me as someone who’s felt much warmth.”
Maven is perceptive. I watch as she grabs a glass to fill with water, her movements lithe and smooth. There’s an unstudied grace to her that makes my cock start to harden again. I’m trying to think of something to push her away, but she glances back at me.
“The movie night is in Silas’s room. Your cuddle buddy candidates are Baelfire or Silas. Crypt already announced he’ll chop off the dick of anyone who isn’t me on his lap.”
I think…she’s trying to make me feel included. My chest melts even as panic starts to take hold. Even just a second alone like this between us is dangerous. I need to push her away. I can’t let her have moments like this where she’s subtly trying to cheer me up. It only heightens the risk that I’ll end up destroying everything I ever wanted.
I turn back to the window and scoff, “I won’t be joining. I’m already not looking forward to hearing their argument.”
Maven hums thoughtfully. “I suppose you’re right. They could end up fighting over anything. Apparently, none of you get along.”
Forcing out the next words takes effort, but I deliver it in the exact asshole tone I need to. “I meant, I don’t want to hear them argue about who won the bet after that show back there.”
She’s quiet for a moment, but the mysterious little caster is smart. I know she’s putting it together, and it fucking kills me knowing that I’m about to hurt her.
But if I don’t…if I mess this up and my curse takes hold, I’ll never forgive myself.
This is for the best.
“Bet?”
Her voice is quiet. She suspects it. All it takes is assuming a dry tone that would make anyone feel stupid.
“Yes, the bet about who would fuck you first. We named our prizes for the competition. We thought getting you in bed would be a challenge, but here we are. One day of fawning over you, and it opened you right up. Now that it’s done, we just have to decide who won their prize.”
Every word out of my mouth tastes like bile.
Unable to bear it anymore, I turn—and see pain on Maven’s face. Just briefly. She hides it so fast under the blank slate expression she’s perfected, but I still saw it, and it’s fucking agony to know she’s hiding her emotions from me right now.
