Total pages in book: 148
Estimated words: 147734 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 739(@200wpm)___ 591(@250wpm)___ 492(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 147734 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 739(@200wpm)___ 591(@250wpm)___ 492(@300wpm)
Because I can.
Because she clearly loves it.
And I will love the shit out of feeling Vaughn inside her.
Maybe that’s fucked up, but I don’t give two flying fucks. Ever since she told me they fucked before she got here, implying that she still wasn’t satisfied, I’ve been getting so hard, my cock aches.
Not because I want to satisfy her.
No.
It’s because I want to feel Vaughn inside her pussy.
Or maybe feel how he felt when he was pounding her. Have the same expression, make the same noises—
Fuck, I’m going to come just thinking about it, and I shouldn’t be this fucking excited.
It’s not part of my grand plan—the same plan Cy calls stupid, but he’s an anti-fan, so his opinion means jack shit.
As I kiss Danika, I’m transported to four years ago, to the uncertainty and the pounding heart, to trembling lips and rattled insides when I kissed Vaughn.
It was a curiosity, a need, an innocent, albeit impulsive, action to test out why the fuck I couldn’t stop my racing heartbeat around Vaughn.
The moment I kissed him, I couldn’t deny how good it felt, how much I wanted to keep doing it, how hard it hit to just have my lips on his.
But then it became the worst decision of my life.
Vaughn Morozov gave me my bi-awakening, but it came at a calamitous price.
Because I started obsessing, even after he abandoned me, and I’m really not good with obsessions.
He consumed my heart, body, and soul.
I used all resources available to find him, call him, get in touch with him, and even traveled hundreds of miles to see him, but all I got in return was a gash in the chest and a fuck ton of regrets.
See, I thought I could let go.
And I did, because my young, immature obsession with Vaughn exacted more than I could handle.
But somewhere in the back of my head, I was waiting for him to join his friends at The King’s U so that I could get closure once and for all.
I was itching for a battle.
A gloves-off type of battle.
But he continued to evade me.
Cy said it shouldn’t matter if I’d already let him go.
But you know, it’s not fair that he still has his perfect life. So here I am, ruining everything just like he did back then by taking away the love of his life.
And I am taking her away. Knowing his inflexible personality, Vaughn will not want to touch her again.
Not after I have.
Sooner or later, he’ll be right where I want him.
Under my fucking shoe.
9
VAUGHN
Ihaven’t been able to sleep.
Or think properly.
Or even breathe without the sensation of an oppressive object sitting on my chest.
Ever since that waste of space Yulian showed up out of nowhere in my territory, under my own nose, as if he has every right to, I’ve been on perpetual edge.
A pressure I haven’t felt for so long has been simmering, the tension coiling at the back of my skull.
I’m restless.
Almost neurotic, if I’m being brutally honest.
I spent the early morning hitting the bag, then running, then swimming. My limbs ache to the point of exhaustion, yet nothing has eased the tightness in my muscles, my stomach, my bones.
Everywhere.
I walk into my penthouse in Manhattan. I got this place despite my parents’ objection about security, since, objectively speaking, the most secure place in NYC is probably their mansion. They bulletproofed it so well, no one dares to come close.
However, I needed to have a place of my own after I started college, mainly so Danika and I could have our own space. Or maybe it’s because I needed my own space.
Because, despite Danika’s numerous hints about moving in with me, I’d rather she doesn’t. At least, not yet.
The penthouse is huge, with a contemporary-style interior design. There’s a large, bold impressionist painting with green and red hues in the living area. It’s the only break of color in the beige tones—both of these were Danika’s ideas. It’s not truly my personal preference, but I had to make the compromise so I could dodge her attempts to move in.
When I first decided to live here a few months ago, Dad bought the whole building, had most of it occupied by his security and the rest by people he trusts, so, in a sense, I didn’t really leave home.
I don’t blame him or Mom for wanting to protect me. For using every resource they have to ensure that I’m not only safe, but that I also have access to the best guards, who were personally trained by them.
Ever since the time I was almost killed at that cursed summer camp, my parents have become overprotective. They try not to infringe on my freedom to the point of suffocation, but there’s only so much they can do without having guards in my surroundings at all times.