Page 28 of Sinner
It wasn’t long before they’d found a rhythm, one that ensured Nix was never left empty. He lost track of who was inside of him and who was pulling out, the magnitude of sensation causing white lights to burst in his vision and his chest to seize. He was gasping for air and twitching in West’s lap like he’d been attached to a live wire, the sounds coming from him animalistic and raw.
“Want it, Songbird?” Lake’s soft voice at the curve of his ear had him moaning. “Use your words.”
“Come,” he practically shrieked the words. “I want to…come!”
Lake let go of Nix’s dick and twisted his left nipple painfully, and that was the final straw.
Nix came so hard he passed out.
He woke again later to Lake replacing West, and almost wished for unconsciousness again.
Almost.
Chapter 9:
“What’s the emergency?” Because there had to be one, that was the only reason West’s father would ever choose to meet with him alone.
The house was quieter than usual, with less staff moving about, and West glanced around the living room as he sat at the end of the couch, waiting for his father to reply.
Demitrious was seated in the plush leather chair at the end of the coffee table, playing the man of the house with his cigar and air of superiority. It was sickening, but not something West would have to put up with for much longer.
“Amidst the chaos the Ferds have brought upon us with their tarnished household, we haven’t yet had the chance to discuss what happened at the Club House,” Demitrious finally stated, after making West wait for it.
It was day three of Demons Passing, and the rest of the world was celebrating with their families. Meanwhile, West was here, forced to listen to his father sling accusations his way.
Not that those accusations didn't hold merit. They did.
Lake had reminded him of this when he’d been on his way out the door this morning. They’d escalated their plans in order to deal with Juri, but had misstepped. If they’d known the guy was about to keel over, they wouldn’t have brought Demitrious and his many misdeeds into the light so soon.
They’d tipped their hand.
Now it was up to him to do damage control.
West was almost one hundred percent certain, however, that he would be failing miserably at that task. Everyone knew his father preferred Lake over him. It was no great secret. But that was why they were suspicious when he’d been the one called here today instead.
“Lake was protecting his position and his Royal Consort,” West tried anyway, keeping his tone breezy, as though this weren’t a big deal. “That’s all it was. Fortunately, Juri was taken out before things escalated.”
“Half of the Order won’t speak to me,” Demitrious stared him down and took a long drag on his cigar. “You call that fortunate?”
“It’s nothing we can’t fix. Once Lake takes the throne—”
“This has always been your problem, son,” he cut him off. “You can never take accountability. It always has to be Lake’s fault, never your own.”
…Okay, what the actual fuck?
“That isn’t true,” West blurted, realizing too late how stupid he was for playing right into his father’s hands.
“You’ve already mentioned him twice,” Demitrious pointed out.
“I was explaining—”
“I don’t need you to explain Lake’s actions to me. I know he has his own reasons for doing things, and I trust his judgment. That isn’t why we’re here. We’re here to talk about you.”
West bristled. “Me?”
“Yes.” Demitrious motioned with his chin to a closed file on the center of the coffee table, waiting for West to pick it up and flip it open. “To say I’m disappointed would be an understatement. The fact that you were aware of this, yet were unable to find the one responsible before they could kill the youngest member of the Ferd family speaks volumes to your capabilities.”
West’s brow furrowed as he stared at a printout of his medical file from when he’d been poisoned. It shouldn’t have even been accessible—he’d taken care of wiping those files from his doctor’s system himself—but here it was, printed in black and white.
