Damaged Goods

He might have been a triplet, but I’d never mistake which brother he was. His rich chocolate eyes were still the same, framed in lashes any woman would envy. He was older now, just as I was, but he had gone the classy route, apparently, wearing a dark suit that made him look refined. His dirty blond hair was styled and combed back, not a single slight curl defying him. The well-kept mustache and beard were just the icing on this already delicious cake.

“Did you just call me a fucker?” he asked, half-amused and half-annoyed, before he narrowed his eyes, studying me further. When realization hit, his eyes shadowed, showing a depth of emotion I never expected from an Adrostos.

“Killian?” I whispered aloud this time, my entire world coming to a halt as my ex-boyfriend, one of the men who still haunted my dreams, stared down at me.

“Sana? Holy fuck,” he stuttered, taking my hand and dragging me behind him without another word. My brain stalled as I struggled to stay on my feet. My logic caught up with me two seconds later, reminding me that I wasn’t anyone’s toy and chastising me for letting him pull me around like a child.

“Let go of me,” I growled, letting my body go slack enough to make him stumble, then pulling free. I turned to run, only making it to the alleyway before he had me pinned against the wall, his hand on my throat just tightly enough to show he was in charge. I sighed long and low but didn’t move, the light chokehold going straight to my fucking pussy. The sexual tension was electric as he leaned in, a steely grin on his face and sex in his eyes.

“You don’t want that,” he challenged, flicking my nipple through my thin shirt. The traitorous fuckers were hard as hell, leaving no mystery that at least my body was into the close contact. He tightened his hold, studying me as I glared at him, making my hips rock forward as he pushed his body into mine.

“Yes, I do,” I shot back, shoving my knee in his groin now that he’d shifted into the perfect position. He shuddered in response but didn’t loosen his hold on my throat. Instead, his eyes rolled back in his head as he breathed through it, the bulge he pressed into me never waning. He liked it rough, that much I knew, but this was a whole new level. I had to admit, I was intrigued.

“Don’t worry, Sana. I like the pain,” he said, his laugh echoing in the alley. “Now stop fighting and come home with me. Let me show you how much I missed you.”

“No,” I fired back with just as much intensity. “Who just demands to fuck five minutes after being reunited with their ex?!”

“What happened to my Sana?” he asked as he purposefully tapped my shoulder harness. The question wasn’t full of his typical intensity, though his curiosity was laced with an underlying thread of possessiveness that was trademark Killian. “You used to be beautifully submissive.”

“She died. This is who I am now,” I said simply, shoving him off of me while he was distracted by my words. “And I don’t stand for being shoved around. You don’t own me, Killian.”

“Oh, my sweet, Sana, but I do. I have since you were sixteen,” he countered with a chuckle holding enough dark promise that I had to steel my spine to keep from shivering. “And now that you’re here, I promise you won’t be going anywhere. I’ve waited too fucking long for this.”

“Like fuck I won’t,” I stated bluntly, turning and starting to run. My heart pounded in my chest as I tried to talk down my greedy pussy. The last thing I needed was to get involved with or distracted by the Adrostos. I was living on borrowed time and didn’t need the added complication. That was why I’d avoided them all these years. I had known they lived near Haverden, but back during our high school days, we’d purposefully avoided delving too deeply into our Family business. We knew we were all mafia and left it at that… It was safer that way. We were teens; we were all about what felt good at the time, fuck the complications.

“Sana, Sana, Sana,” he taunted before suddenly grasping me around the waist and carrying me down the alley in the opposite direction. I rained blows on his back, legs, wherever I could reach as I screamed. Of course, he didn’t even flinch, power walking through the streets as people all too eagerly moved out of the way. I expected someone to threaten to call the cops or try to help me, but one flash of the gun beneath his jacket was all it took for them to look the other way. “You’re going to make me call for my brothers if you don’t quit.” His warning was followed by a solid smack to my ass, hard enough that fire burned along my skin and a yelp escaped, my protests drying up as my brain broke again. My pussy gave another throb, the rough possession he was displaying speaking to my kinky side in a way I hadn’t experienced in way too long.

Knowing it was useless, I saved my energy for when he would eventually put me down, letting him carry me down yet another alley. Killian moved with an ease that spoke to how well he knew the back routes around this part of the city, and I wondered how we’d never run into each other before now. He stopped outside of a solid black door, shifting me and grabbing his keys out before unlocking the door and carrying me inside. I tried to lift my head and take in the dark building around me, but the fresh scent of cleaner and obscured view gave away nothing.

“Put me down, Killian!” I ordered, and he froze, startling me. That can’t seriously have worked.

“Right here?” he asked, amusement in his tone as he let me slide down his body. The sudden shifting had me wavering for a second as I blinked away the pounding in my ears. Now that I was on my feet I realized we were in a nightclub, empty this early in the day, but easily recognizable from the large dance floor, expansive bar, DJ stand, and overhead lights. “Remember, this is where you said to stop,” he said happily, reaching forward and pulling my jacket off before moving to my shirt.

“What the fuck are you doing?” I yelled, covering my bra with my hands and stepping away, but he moved into my personal bubble without hesitation.

“Undressing you, currently,” he said slowly, as though the issue was my comprehension and not my total lack of consent. Okay, I thought, feeling the wetness that had spread between my thighs, maybe not total lack of consent. I mean, the man’s still every bit as beautiful as he was a decade ago. “Then I’m going to bend you over that table right there and fuck you senselessly like I haven’t been able to do for the last eleven years.”

“How about no,” I laughed, dangerously intrigued despite my common sense, but he was already moving forward, something dark flashing in his eyes as he reached for the harness and carefully slid it off before roughly grabbing the cups of my bra and tearing it in half. My breasts fell free, and his gaze darkened as he took me in, the lack of coverage revealing my still pebbled nipples. The slight tic in his jaw told me that I was pushing all the right buttons, but if he was any bit like the man I remembered, he was on the edge of releasing his volatile temper.

“That’s not your choice anymore. You left without a word!” he yelled, veins bulging in his neck as his hurt and anger leaked through. A flash of guilt hit me, but I’d had no choice back then, and I wouldn’t apologize now. Without warning, he turned me, bending me roughly over a table so my nipples slammed painfully into the tabletop. “Now let me punish you in the only way I know how to.”

“No,” I protested one last time, “gol—”

“Don’t. Only use it if you truly mean it, Otsana,” he warned, pausing. We’d established our safeword years ago, and it was the one unbreakable rule between us. It was my foolproof weapon to yield, but I had been trained well, and despite any reservations I currently might have had, my body begged for me to keep it holstered. Knowing as well as he did that he’d just made his simplest yet effective argument, I let out a frustrated sigh but didn’t say it.

“Good girl,” he praised mockingly, and before I could say anything back, my pants were already down, his hand pushing aside the thin layer of lace covering my pussy to slide his fingers into my slick core. Any possible protests fell away as he pumped his fingers in and out of me, the only hint at foreplay before I heard his zipper open and my legs were shoved apart. I hissed at the sting of my panties digging into my skin as he literally ripped them off of me. Holy fuck, why is he so fucking sexy and infuriating?

“Say you’re sorry and tell me how much you missed this dick,” he ordered, gathering a handful of hair in his hand and tightening painfully, my scalp stinging as he shifted my head to the side. Leaning close, he waited, denying me what my body craved. “Now, Baby Girl.”

“I’m not sor

ry,” I growled, “and I’ve had whatever dick I wanted for the last eleven years. Plenty that were better than you.” A slap hit my bare ass, and I moaned, sliding forward on the table to escape the exquisite torture, my hard nipples rubbing along the cool tabletop and making it feel so much better.

“You will be,” he said, plunging into me without warning and burying himself to the hilt. I hissed at the burn of his cock stretching me, but he braced one hand on my shoulder and the other on my hip, slamming into me relentlessly and stealing away my focus. After the first thrust, I realized he was pierced, his studs heightening the intensity as I panted and writhed under him. “When I tell you that you aren’t going to run away this time, I mean it. You don’t want me to hunt you down, Baby Girl.”

“Fuck you,” I panted, wanting to rile him up as much as I was. The fist in my hair pulled harder, and my gasp was met with another smack on my ass. His hand left my hip before he slammed his phone on the table next to my face. I leaned up to see what he was doing just as he hit ‘call group,’ putting it on speaker. His hand didn’t return to my hip, instead wrapping lightly around my throat.

“Kill?” a voice similar to Killian’s answered, and I froze, well as much as I could while being relentlessly fucked by a fucking psycho.