Malum: Part 1 (The Elite King's Club 4)

Licking my lips, my eyes feel heavy again, but I want to go through the book more and see what else is in it. Another part of me also knows that I can’t rush through. Every page is a chapter to a story, a story I have no idea what it is about. A story that needs to be whispered like a gentle lullaby to be sure you don’t miss any important lyrics rather than speed rapped and everything goes over your head.

Tillie

My phone vibrating on the bedside table alerts me as I viciously rub the sleep from my eyes. Reaching for it visionless, I hit answer. “What?”

“I need an update, sister.”

“Listen, I’m doing what you told me to do, Peyton. They know you have Micaela, you’ve successfully awoken Nate’s feral side, what is the next step?”

She stays silent for a beat, and I swing my legs off the bed, pulling my hair out of my face. “This time next week, I need them all, and Tillie when I say all, I mean all, at a location I will send to you the night prior. Understand?”

“Yes,” I grumble, and then notice the door open. Nate leans against the frame in nothing but grey Nike sweatpant shorts. He looks sweaty, ripped, and did he get his nipples pierced? The tattoos over his body have multiplied since I last saw them too, including two large angel wings that fan out over his chest. They’re beautiful. I’m drawn to them right away.

He clears his throat and my eyes go up to his, only I flinch. It’s hard coming face-to-face with someone you once loved. It’s like a big fuck you from the god of love. My stomach sinks.

“Who’s that?” he asks, pointing to my phone.

“Ah, I need to go…” I mumble into the phone before hanging up quickly. “What do you want, Nate?”

He licks his bottom lip. “Answer the question, Tillie, who was that?”

Oh well, nothing has changed where his possessiveness is concerned, though I’ve heard through Madison that he usually doesn’t get into the whole caveman antics and that he’s more into sharing.

I’ve yet to see that side of him.

I stand, ignoring his jab and head straight for the bathroom. My travels don’t get far because, in a flash, Nate is right in front of me, one arm hooking around my back and his other hand coming to my hair. He tilts my head up until he’s glaring down at me. “Who the fuck was that?”

I clench my jaw. “I don’t remember the part where I have to answer to you, so fuck you.”

His lip curls, the grip he has in my hair intensifying. “While you’re invading my fucking life, there are to be no fuckboys sniffing around you. In fact, you can grab the shit Madison left on the bed for you and move your ass into my room.”

“Nate!” I yell, fighting the anger that’s simmering to the surface. This is going to be a lot more difficult than I imagined. “I’m not staying in your damn room, and though there are no fuckboys, unless you count yourself, I do not have to freaking answer to you!”

He unlatches his hold and shoves me onto Daemon’s bed. My hair flies out around me, and just as I inch up on my elbows, he pushes me back down with his body, crawling up like a predator. His arms cage me in on either side of my head. I keep my legs closed, my head tilted sideways to stop from vanishing into his gaze. You can’t get lost there again, Tillie. Remember? He doesn’t give every part of you back.

“Listen to me, princess, you will do as you’re told whether you like it or not, in fact, keep not liking it, you know that bravado gets my dick hard.” His chest presses into mine as his mouth comes to my ear. “Did you think you could just walk into my fucking house and not live with a set of rules? I mean, come on, baby, I know it’s been a while since I’ve been balls deep in this.” He shoves one of his legs between my thighs, forcing my legs open.

I hiss, slamming my eyes shut. Out of sight, out of mind.

He chuckles, his chest vibrating against mine. “But you know how I play.”

“Actually,” they pop open and I turn to face him square on until he’s leaning up on one elbow to look down at me again.

His eyes come to mine, his face so close I can feel his deep breath fall against my lips.

Agh, this feels like too much. Too much Nate.

“Actually, what?” He challenges me with a grin, his voice cracking with a tone that my insides are all too familiar with. He’s too much and you’re too weak right now.

Fuck. “Actually,” I continue, gripping onto some false sense of security my subconscious has created out of the undiluted fear this man sets off inside of me. “I’ve heard you don’t play like that usually, so I don’t actually know how you ‘play.’”