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Kindle Notes & Highlights
by
Angel Lawson
Read between
January 18 - January 20, 2025
Killian still wants in, Tristian still wants to watch, and Dimitri still wants to manipulate.
“You were always going to be mine,” he grunts, holding me painfully close as he punches his hips into mine. Beside us, something clatters to the floor, but neither of us pay it any attention. “I knew you were mine then, the same way I know you’re mine now.”
Killian and I were made for this. We were made to fuck. To be together. “Let me in,” he grunts, burying his head into my shoulder as he drives into me. His fingertips dig into my soft flesh, making his own bruises into the marks his father had made. His voice is all hard viciousness, but there’s something buried below it. A plea that stretches with desperation. “Let me in, let me in, let me—fuck.” He goes rigid, and then I feel it: his dick pumping me full of his hot come. He lets out a growl that tapers off into a long, pained groan. “Goddamn, little sister. You’re trying to fucking kill me.”
I can’t imagine myself playing music for her. I can’t imagine watching her from across the room, or tucking her against me while we sleep, or pulling her into a bath and rubbing the tension from her shoulders as we smoke a blunt. I can’t imagine fucking her and being overtaken by the urge to look into her eyes as I do it, worried that it’ll be too exposed, but unable to give a shit. I can’t imagine her ever being mine, and I can’t imagine ever being hers. Not like with Story.
“She played your games for weeks, you sadistic fuckwit. You can’t handle a little monkey dancing? Then maybe you should give Auggy a call. God, men are the biggest pussies. Everything we put up with from you, and you’re bellyaching about a little—” She pauses, narrowing her eyes at me. “What does she want you to do?” “Stay sober for three days.” On her way past, she lobs a sharp smack to the back of my head. “Get the fuck out of my kitchen.”
“You want to know how to ‘wear her down’? Here’s the secret, you flaccid sack of meat. You don’t. If you really cared about that girl, you’d try building her up for once. You think this is a game to her because that’s how you and your rich pals work. She’s not playing a game. She’s trying to find one fucking crumb of something genuine from a bunch of boys who make it their business to be anything but.”
I don’t belong in their world any more than they’ve ever belonged in mine. But what Ms. Crane doesn’t understand about us is that we don’t need to. We’ll make our own world. And I’m going to make damn sure Story is a part of it. Even if it kills me.
Relenting, I lift her chin. “For you,” I kiss her mouth before climbing from the bed, “anything.”
“Oh, sweetheart, I could absolutely come just from watching you play with your clit like this. But I do have my cock out.”
“Show me?”
I don’t want to burn her down. I want to burn with her, high and bright.
know exactly what Tristian wants. “I want to be very clear, Gen. The reason it felt like you were fucking a robot when you were with him? It’s because you were flawed. Tristian couldn’t look at you because you were a fake, uncommitted cunt.” I’m the one to smile then, making sure to show all my teeth. “But what we have isn’t just about the sex—which, I can assure you, is fucking transcendent.” I give her a hard shove against the wall. We’re so close I can feel her heart race in her chest. “He would kill for me, Genevieve. Put a bullet in a body. Set a building on fire. Do whatever it takes to
...more
“Well, I have three,”
“When things get hard, he makes the calls no one else has the guts to.”
“Just breathe, sweetheart. He’s almost all the way in. I know Killer’s thick, but you were made for this. You were made to take them.”
“So fucking good for us.”
“You look perfect,”
“They’re going to fuck you now, sweetheart. Ease down.”
This is matrimony disguised as dirty, hardcore fucking.
“Mommy dearest?!”
I were your mother, I’d poison your breakfast to spare myself the embarrassment!”
237. Mayhem.
Instead, he grabs him by the collar of his black sweater, wrenching him away from Ms. Crane. He hauls him up, snarling into his face, “That’s the last fucking time you touch her!”
“But I’m not your fairytale, mom.”
“I’m a motherfucking horror novel.”
“Then allow me to introduce you all to,” she tilts to monitor, showcasing our little lemon, “your healthy baby girl.”
lot has changed between these past few years. But the way we love never will.
T: 237 237 237 237 237 237 237 237 237 237 237 237 237 237 237
“Mayhem…”
“Melody Delores.”
Our own little Kingdom.
