Page 30 of Pucking Unhinged
Tristan’s hands slide to my hips, fingers tracing the bruises he left there last night, and he looks oh, so reverent. His voice is thick when he says, “I look good on you.” His eyes linger hungrily on the faint purple shadows, like he’s pleased.
I shift, lifting just enough to take his cock in my hand. He’s already throbbing, impossibly big, and I tuck him beneath me, letting his length rest against my slick slit as I sink back down. The pressure makes us both groan, and he’s not even inside of me.
“Oh, fuck,” he growls, throwing his head back into the pillows, hips arching up to grind against me.
I giggle, breathless and giddy, because I’ve never felt so alive. “We should have done this a while ago, I think.”
His eyes snap open, dark and intense, glowering up at me like I’ve said something he’s already been mulling over. “Oh, we’re going to make up for lost time, baby. You’ll be the one getting no rest.”
The wicked curve of his mouth makes my insides twist, and then he’s sitting up, cupping my face and kissing me fiercely. His groan spills into my mouth, needy and raw, and when he pulls back just enough to whisper against my lips, it’s the kind of confession that will be burned into my memory forever.
“Dushen’ka. You are my heart, and certainly my entire soul.” He says it so easily, like it’s just a fact, and not something that should shatter me from the inside out and piece me back together.
I wrap my arms tight around Tristan’s neck, ready to drown in him all over again, but then my dreaded phone starts beeping. It’s an unfamiliar beep indicating it’s not a regular call.
“Sebastian?” I murmur, already knowing. He’s the only one who has to use a texting app to call me from Ireland.
Tristan presses a quick kiss to my lips anyway, muttering, “I’ll kill him for this.” I give him a knowing look, allowing him to overreact but knowing he’s not serious. He juts his chin out, realizing I don’t believe him. “At the very least, I’m going to beat his fucking ass the next time I see him. I’m like an elephant, I won’t forget this.”
I giggle as I slide off his lap to grab the phone, tossing it at him when the screen lights up. “Answer your twin. It’s probably important if he called me. You know he probably tried you twenty times before he resorted to me.”
Tristan’s eyes don’t follow the phone. They follow me, watching every movement as I tug on a t-shirt and shorts. It’s a video call, and if it’s one thing I am certain about, it’s that Tristan would kill his twin brother if he saw me in any state of undress.
Only once I’m covered does he scowl at the screen and swipe to answer. “This better be fucking good.”
“Will you fucking keep it down?” Sebastian whispers. “I’ve tried calling you a million times since last night. I had to dig around in my desk to find Winter’s number this morning.” Sebastian sounds annoyed and stressed, but it’s funny to me that the Vale twins are alike in that way. I wonder if he has Tristan’s number saved in his phone or just has it in his call log.
Something catches my eye on the wall behind him. I see Sebastian’s room every time he and Tristan play chess together on their video calls. Did he move recently? Sebastian doesn’t strike me as the type that would paint his walls a soft pink color.
Maybe Madi took a trip to Ireland and redecorated for him, I snicker at the thought.
“Where are you, Sebastian?” I ask, cocking my head when I notice the fancy gold frames on the wall behind him, photos of smiling strangers I know for certain are not related to the Vales.
He frowns, scowling like Tristan does when Hayen and Callum speak about…well, anything.
“Are you…in a girl’s room? Is that why you’re being so quiet?” I keep the question vague, but what I really want to ask is if it’sher. The girl. The one he dropped everything for. The reason he moved across the globe to Ireland.
Sebastian doesn’t answer. Instead, he tips the phone to the side, like he’s daring me to put the pieces together myself. And there she is.
A girl, curled on her side in what I assume is her bed, bundled up tight in a fluffy pink comforter. Her thick, long blonde hair is fanned out over the pillow, glowing even in the grainy light of the camera. She looks…peaceful.
Protected.
My mouth falls open, but I keep my voice quiet. “Oh my god. You finally told her who you are?”
“Of course not,” he mutters, lowering his voice like the words themselves might wake her. “I’m just checking in on her. Making sure she’s okay.”
I blink at him, incredulous, because how does he not hear himself? “Other than having a strange man in her room while she’s asleep?”
The glare he shoots me could cut glass, which only makes me giggle. He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose before slipping out of her room, careful, quiet, because even broody Sebastian Vale looks terrified of disturbing his sleeping beauty.
“I don’t care if you’re breaking into every girl’s dorm in the country and rifling through their underwear drawers. Why are you calling us?” Tristan barks, but it doesn’t escape me that he waited for Sebastian to be out of her room before he yelled. His hand slides down my side, fingers flexing into the fabric of my top. He’s annoyed, and I’m what calms him.
I fucking love that.
Sebastian clears his throat. The lighting in the dark hallway makes it hard to really see him clearly, but I can tell whatever he called for is serious. “You’re going to be pissed about everything that I have to tell you. You need to get back to Castlebrook. And away from Dad.”
Tristan’s entire body stiffens. He sits up straighter, his arm automatically tightening around me.
