Page 55 of Deviant Need

“Yes.” The word comes out breathless. “But what about after? When we go back home?”

His jaw clenches. “We’ll figure it out.”

“That’s not a plan…”

“I know. Can that be enough for now? Just while we are here?”

I’ll take whatever he gives me. “It’s enough.”

“Good. Now stop panicking. We have a few days to just be us.”

“I can’t believe we’re doing this.”

“Believe it. Because I’m not going anywhere.”

I manage to suck in a breath. I need him so badly it hurts.

I’m pathetic enough to accept any scrap of attention he’s willing to share, any stolen moment or touch or kiss. If he asked me to crawl over broken glass just to stay near him, I would do it in a heartbeat. I would let him use me up until there’s nothing left if it meant he never walked away.

Chapter 12

Mikhail

Glancing up from my cards, I narrow my eyes at Daniil. This little shit is cheating again, I know he is. “The Beach” by The Neighborhood drifts through the room while he shuffles, and I don’t care what he says, he does something to that deck.

“I’m not cheating. Stop looking at me like that,” he says without even glancing up.

“I want you to tell me how you do it.”

He scowls. “Why does everybody keep accusing me of cheating? Not my fault for being smarter than all of you.”

Cursing under my breath, I wipe sweat off my forehead.

It’s hot as hell in here. He’s in a white t-shirt and boxers. I’m down to just boxers, both of us sprawled on the living room floor because we’ve given up on life. The AC’s broken or useless, just pushing warm air around like that’s helpful.

We woke up like an hour ago, and I’m already restless. He had already left the bed when I woke up, and it pissed me off. I was looking forward to waking up with him still there, pulling him close and getting off again. Instead, he was already up, and now I’m sitting here playing cards when I’d rather be doing something else.

My eyes drift up to him, and I take him in. How have I never realized how beautiful he is? Then again, I’ve never thought about any guy that way before. Not until his pretty pink lips were wrapped around my cock.

His hazel eyes catch the light from the window, flecked with gold and brown, and that silver hoop in his nose glints. I’m so obsessed with that piercing.

His black hair goes slightly past his ears and falls to the sides on his forehead, curling at the ends. It’s usually messy and sticks up whenever he wears his hoodies with the hood up, but right now it’s deliberately messy, styled in that effortless way that probably took him five seconds.

His smaller frame fits perfectly against mine, lean but defined with that six-pack and subtle muscle definition from all those sparring sessions I dragged him to. He only has one tattoo, right over his heart. Our family motto.

We are so fucked up for doing what we did yesterday. I’m not stupid, it’s… not something you do with your own brother. I just don’t care. He better not download that dating app again, or I’m going to find whoever sent him that message and make them disappear. What the fuck was that about? Some asshole asking if he’s into twinks?

He brings out this possessive streak in me that I gave up fighting years ago. Something about him triggers this need to bite, mark, claim, make it so everyone knows he’s mine. My brain bypasses all logic and goes straight to caveman territory whenever he’s close.

I’m trying my hardest not to overthink this because I’ve never had a crush on anyone before. Ever. And I think I may be crushing on him and have been for a long time without knowing it.

I’ve been with plenty of girls, but I never liked any of them. It was always quick and meaningless. Get in, get out, forget their names by the next day. There was this one girl when I was sixteen that I dated for a week, but that ended after I kissed him on that roof.

My mind drifts back to what we did, and my cock stirs in my boxers.

When he sucked me off, he was so enthusiastic and eager and desperate for it. Kept going even after I came, working me over with his tongue until I was shaking and oversensitive.

No one’s ever done that before. Most girls pull off the second I finish, but he just kept going, greedy and relentless like he couldn’t get enough. I almost groan out loud just thinking about it. My cock jerks against my boxers, already half-hard again.