Page 16 of The Darkest Prince

I tip my head at the door.

He locks it and approaches me as I unzip my pants and whip out my cock. “I can’t stop thinking about her pussy.”

He takes in my length and licks his lips. “Same,” he agrees, breathing harder. “I’m popping her fucking cherry. I don’t care if Luca has a problem with it.”

Stroking my shaft, I focus on his mouth and how his lips part for me. I reach out and put his hand around my dick. “This is for you too, Bash. Not just Alex.”

He closes his eyes and jerks my dick harder, leaning forward to put his hand on the wall behind my head. “Sometimes, I really hate you, D.” His face burrows into the crook of my neck with each stroke, his long fingers sliding up to the tip dripping with precum. “But I can’t fucking live without you.”

We have a trauma bond, as the therapist calls it. He said our parents’ deaths formed an unbreakable bond that’s made us codependent on each other. I don’t even know how I could be with a woman without him involved.

I need him.

We need each other.

While he rips a grunt from my throat, I unzip his pants and jerk his dick as hard as he’s yanking on mine. Like he wants to break it. But fuck, I don’t care what he does because it feels good. And I want to cum all over his hand.

My lips press against his earlobe before I suck it into my mouth. His guttural groan pieces my eardrum. I love the sounds Bash makes when he’s about to come. They make me feral, and before I know what I’m doing, I’m on my knees in front of him.

He tries to push my head away, but I grab his dick and suck him into my mouth.

“Fuck, D,” he moans, his hand falling to the back of my head. “I hate you so fucking much right now. Why do you do this to me?”

His words don’t bother me. I’m used to him denying how he feels. It’s the shame talking.

“You’re so good at that,” he whispers, gripping the ends of my short hair tighter. “Fuck. Why do you have to make me like this?”

I shove down his pants and boxers without losing momentum. They lower to the ground around his ankles, and now I’ve got a better look at him. His dick is perfect. Thick, long, and big enough to fit him in my mouth.

Squeezing his ass, I deep-throat his dick, taking him all the way down.

“Goddammit,” he grunts, tugging so hard on my hair he could pull it from my scalp. “Fuck, Damian. Suck my cock like a good boy.”

As I suck his dick, I wipe some of the precum from my tip and use it to lubricate my finger. Bastian falls forward when I plunge my finger into his ass and work the tight channel I’ve been begging to fuck for the past two years. He likes when I do this, even though he denies me sex.

“Holy shit,” he moans. “Fuck, that feels…”

He can’t even get out the words, nearly breathless, as I pump my finger into his ass and suck the cum from his dick.

This all started when we were sixteen, and I was out of my mind with bloodlust. I killed someone for my father and lost control. There was so much blood it looked like a massacre. I had blood all over my face, skin, and clothes. Every inch of the floor and walls was painted crimson.

I almost hurt Bastian until he took out my dick and made me come. Because of him, I didn’t kill anyone else that night. We went home, got into the shower, and he sucked my dick for the first time.

Then I sucked his.

It was one of the best nights of my life but probably not his. Because that was the night he started hating himself.

And it was all my fault.

Bastian’s legs shake, and his grunts quickly turn to sexy moans. His warmth spills into my mouth, and I swallow his cum, licking my lips to get every last drop.

“Jesus,” Bastian hisses, his fingers sliding through his dark caramel hair to push it out of his eyes. “No one sucks my dick like you do.”

I rise from the ground, still hard and needing a release. So I take his hand and wrap it around my shaft. His hand glides up and down my skin in a rhythmic motion.

“I need to feel your mouth on me, Bash.” I stick out my tongue and lick his lips, so he can taste himself. “Make this go away.”

Unless I’m lost to the madness, I always take care of him first. It’s easier to get Bash out of his head if he comes. He doesn’t think as much about our wrongness. How much he hates his feelings for me. But he would have to cut out my black heart to make me stop feeling this way about him.

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