Veils of Rivalry Chapter 44

Blaise's POV

Cole cuts the engine and looks out the windshield as silence falls on the car. Our parents have gone away for the weekend. Now, as he flicks his eyes in my direction and swallows, the weight of what that means for us thickens the tension in the car. I smirk, wetting my lips. I can still taste him on my tongue.

He pushes open the door and steps out into the rain. It soaks through his clothes in seconds, making the gray fabric mold to his muscles. Fuck me, he’ll be the death of me. Climbing out of the car, I jog up the driveway with my eyes on the prize. Cole enters the house, tosses his keys into the crystal bowl on the console table, and then hesitates with his back to me.

“Do you know what I love?” I ask as I close the door behind us and turn the lock to heighten the anticipation. His shoulders stiffen at the soft click, and my eyes fall down his body as I approach him from behind. “You talked a big game back there, and you grew hard as a fucking rock in my mouth when Keith walked in on us.” The floorboards creak with my next step. I can smell the rain on his skin, and fuck me, if that doesn’t do dangerous things to my heart. I’m screwed. My fingers tingle with the urge to fist his hair and pull until he hisses. “But there’s fear beneath the desire, too.” I’m close to him now. Close enough to touch. “There’s something about the hitch in your breath that makes me want to hurt you.”

He doesn’t move a muscle as I step close enough to feel his heat through his clothes. Raindrops cling to the ends of his hair, and more dot his skin. I stifle a groan when my dick jumps behind my fly. “You like the thrill, don’t you?” I ask.

“You want to hurt me?” His eyes find mine over his shoulder, and mine drop to his tempting mouth. “What’s holding you back?”

Giving in to the urge to touch his wet hair, I grab the strands and yank his head back. “I can think of better ways to hurt you.”

“Fuck—” he grunts as I shove him up against the wall, but the sound is cut off when I crush my lips to his.

This moment right here…

I bite his lip hard until the taste of his coppery blood floods my mouth, and he fists my T-shirt and hauls me close. We’re a clash of teeth and tongues and bumping noses. It’s messy, sloppy, and everything I’ve ever imagined late at night with my hand in my boxers. Now that I can kiss him any time I want behind closed doors, I’m sure as fuck going to get my fill of these enticing lips.

“Fuck, you make me feel things I’ve never felt,” I growl, lifting him away from the wall and slamming him back against it. He gives as good as he gets, and I wrench my mouth away when he sinks his teeth into my lip. “What the…” I growl, my cock straining inside my jeans. His eyes follow the blood dripping down my chin, his panting breaths coming hard and fast.

“You like to see me bleed?”

He wets his lips, and the move is so seductive that I groan. Grabbing him by the throat, I slam my mouth to his again. “Fuck me,” I whisper against his lips. “I could kiss you for-fucking-ever.” His wandering fingers slip beneath my wet T-shirt, making my abs contract. “What do you want to happen now?” I ask and kiss him deeper, slower. These fucking sweet lips. I’m in heaven. “You call the shots, big brother.”

“Stop fucking calling me that,” he growls, shoving me back, and a chuckle rips from my chest at the heated look in his eyes. Walking past me, his fine ass disappears upstairs. My lungs expand as I inhale a steadying breath. I don’t want to hurt him, but I want to hurt him. I’m a mess.

Making my way to the kitchen, I slide a knife from the wooden block and glance at the doorway. “I’m coming for you. You better run,” I call out before smiling so wide my cheeks cramp. It’s so damn exhilarating and freeing not to have to hide how crazy and out of control I feel around him.

Twirling the knife in my hand like I’m a pro, I set off to hunt him down. “I don’t think you quite understand what the hell you’ve agreed to,” I say as I ascend the carpeted stairs. My heart thuds as I reach the top and his closed bedroom door comes into view. I wonder what awaits me on the other side. Is he jacking off? Naked already? Even better, is he hiding? Is it my turn to chase him? Tossing the knife into the air, I catch it by the handle. Hell yes. Cole may not know the extent of my obsession, but I’ve chased him for months, and it’s time for me to claim my prize. Without a preamble, I stride across the hallway and drive my boot into the door.

“What the fuck—” Cole blurts as the door slams into the wall, but his words die when he drops his eyes to the knife in my hand. “Blaise?”

“Why are you not naked?” I casually close the door behind me. “I’m disappointed.”

“What’s with the knife?” he asks, notes of fear bleeding into his voice.

“You like to see me bleed.” I point the blade at him, then the bed. “Lie down.”

Swallowing, he hesitates, and I raise a brow. “I thought you said we’re doing this—you and me. Are you scared?”

Cole looks down at the knife, uncertain. My chest swells with satisfaction when he walks to the bed and crawls on. Approaching the bed, my eyes roam over his body. “You trust me.” My hungry gaze lingers on the outline of his hard cock. “Maybe you shouldn’t,” I whisper, the mattress dipping beneath my weight as I climb on. Straddling his lap, I pull my T-shirt over the back of my head before tossing it to the floor and reaching for his hands. I place one over my heart and curl the fingers of his free hand around the handle.

“What are you doing, Blaise?” he asks, his eyes growing wide.

Guiding the blade to my collarbone, I drag my tongue across my bottom lip as we drown in each other. “I will always bleed for you.”

His fingers tremble on the handle, but he makes no move to hurt me, and suddenly, I’ve never wished for anything more. When he looks up at me, his throat jumps. It’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. “Cut me.”

I expect him to fight me or to say he doesn’t want to hurt me, but instead, he looks into my eyes, speaking a thousand soundless words while dragging the knife down my chest. A sharp sting has me sucking in a breath.

“Fuck,” he breathes and pushes up on his elbows. Blood rushes to the surface, stark red against my pale skin. Dragging a thumb through a trickle of crimson, I trace his bottom lip. He sucks it into his mouth. “Do you have any idea of how fucking perfect you are?” I ask, and he forces me back as he sits up and trails his tongue through the blood. His eyes find mine, his mouth and chin smeared with red. I’ve never seen him this…undone before. I almost come in my fucking pants at the need in his heated look. How can I ever deny him anything?

Still, I like to play with my prize. Grabbing his stubbly jaw, I nip at his bottom lip. “Admit that you were jealous earlier.”

A sharp sting in my abdomen has a smile pulling at my mouth. Cole is brave, digging the blade into my stomach. “One wrong move on my end, and you’ll gut me. Maybe that’s what you want?” I ask, reaching down to unbuckle his belt. “Does the thought turn you on?”

“Are you always this fucking crazy?” he snips.

Chuckling, I reach into his boxers. “Forgive me, but I’m not the one with a knife in my hand.” My fingers curl around his hard shaft, feeling it throb. “I’ll make you come if you admit that you were jealous.”

“I wasn’t fucking jealous,” he sneers, but the tremble in his voice gives him away.

“No? So you don’t mind if I hang out with Jackson again?” It’s the wrong thing to say, or the right thing, depending on how you look at it. I quite like violence, so when Cole tosses the knife aside and tackles me to the bed, my fucking toes curl. Reaching for the knife, he rests it against my throat while yanking my belt open. “Say his name one more fucking time. I dare you!”

My lips spread into a wide smile. “Oh, I like a challenge.”

He snarls, digging the knife into my throat. Blinded by fury, he frees my cock and strokes my length until I’m squirming beneath all that pent-up anger.

“I want to fuck you,” I say, wringing the sheets, my cock growing even harder in his firm grip. “Dammit, I want to fuck you so badly.”

“Yeah?” he mocks, forgetting the knife at my throat, and I wince when he cuts me. “Fuck,” he says, rearing back. “Did I hurt you?”

“Shut up.” I fist his hair and pull him to my lips. The knife falls to the floor with a loud clatter, and then it’s just us and our wildfire desire burning through our souls while we claw at each other’s clothes. Somehow, in the commotion, Cole knocks the lamp to the floor, and we break into laughter. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” I say, pausing with my fingers in his hair as he hovers above me.

“Can dudes be called beautiful?”

“I don’t fucking care.” I swallow down the lump in my throat. “You’re perfect in every fucking way…and your smile. It lights up the room. I only see you.”