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Lords of Wrath: Chapter 5

Tristian

Being a Lady is starting to really suit her.

That’s what I’m thinking about as we sneak into the house. It’s taken some time, and sure, it hasn’t been all daisies and sunshine, but Story just set a car on fire and then sucked my brains out through my dick at seventy miles per hour.

We’re not like the other houses. Most have a clear preference for what their girls should be, but there have been a lot of opinions over the years as to what a Lady is. Submissive and deferent like the Countess? Delicate and sweet like the Princess? Dark and mysterious, like the Baroness? Every LDZ iteration has had their own flavor. Charlene, last year’s Lady, was cold, slutty, and painfully agreeable. Not our type at all. Even though Killian would swear up and down he’s more of a Countess type, I know better. Killian Payne would probably prefer a Princess. Someone soft and cute who bruises easily. Rath would be all about a Baroness vibe. A girl he can hole up with to suffer alongside him.

But me?

My perfect Lady is loyal, above all else.

“Wait,” I say, pulling her to a stop. We’re in the first floor hallway of the brownstone. I point to her chin. “You’ve got a little something right here.”

“Oh.” She reaches for her face, but I get there first, bending over and licking the melted ice cream away.

Obviously, road head deserves a treat. Something to get the flavor of my spunk out of her hot, skilled mouth. She picked peanut butter and chocolate. I got blue raspberry. Now I’ve got the hint of chocolate on my tongue. It’s almost as sweet as her slick fingers had tasted.

She ducks her head, cheeks heating, which makes my mouth curve into a grin. Weird of her to get bashful now, considering she had my cock crammed down her throat thirty minutes ago. She takes a bite out of her cone, crunching it as we pass the den, and I get a flash of awareness that Killian would cream his pants at the sight of her like this, all sweet and shy and reluctantly pleased.

“Where the fuck have you been?!”

Well, speak of the devil… 

Story jerks to a stop, eyes flying wide at the fury in her stepbrother’s voice. I don’t miss the way her hand trembles around her cone. I narrow my gaze at the tell, but keep composed despite Killian’s obvious rage. I was prepared for this.

“We were out,” I say, holding up my cone. “Just getting some ice cream.”

“You? Eat ice cream?” Rath gives me a cold, blank look. “If there’s one thing we’ve learned from your fucking annoying nutrition rants, it’s that dairy is bad for the digestive track and sugar is a cancer on society.”

Shrugging, I toss my cone into the bin by the door. “Well, tonight was a first. For a few things.” I turn to Story and wink. “Wasn’t it, Lady?”

She stands a foot behind me, eyes darting anxiously between the guys. I want to tell her it’s okay, that I wouldn’t let either of them punish her for this. But in the room’s light, I can see soot smudged across her forehead. We’d gone directly against Killian’s order, and she knows there will be a consequence.

I take her hand, dragging her into the curve of my body. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ve got this.”

“Lady,” Killian says, going all scathingly formal, “go upstairs. Now.”

She flinches at his tone, but I hold on to her, tossing him an exasperated look. When I lean in to lick at the crease of her plush, cold lips, it’s mostly just to show all three of them that Killian isn’t the boss here. If I want to taste her, I will. If I want to reach down and give her tight, plump ass a squeeze, no one will stop me. If I want to hold her chin and thumb at her mouth, then that’s what I’ll do.

She stares at me, unblinking, as I push my thumb between her lips. It takes her a moment, but she closes her mouth around it, eyes dropping as her red cheeks cave with a hesitant suck.

My dick twitches. “Good girl.” She looks up at me through her lashes, so quick and demure that it could have been tailored for Killian himself. That’s the irony of it all, that Story unfolds so sweetly at the one thing Killian would never bring himself to give her; a simple word of praise.

I can tell she knows it’s not just about this specific moment. It’s been a good night, having her at my side, so eager and willing. I let my thumb slip from her mouth, dragging her lip as I retreat. “You can go.”

Killian watches her exit the room, his eyes narrowed into angry slits as they fix on her ass. “What the fuck did you do, Tristian?”

I walk over to the armchair and sit, spreading out. “I told you. I took our Lady out for a treat.” I raise my eyebrows. “Seemed like she deserved a break after the last few days, if you know what I mean.”

“That’s strange,” Killian says, teeth clenched, “because I just got a text about a car going up in flames at the bar.“

“Which bar?”

“Don’t fucking try me,” he growls. “The only bar we go to.”

“Oh. A fire, huh?” I ask, badly feigning interest. “Well, I guess that’s not a surprise. It’s a shitty part of town.”

Killian glares at me. “It was Perez’s brand new G-Wagen.”

“Really?” I snort back a laugh. “Ouch. I have to say, it couldn’t have happened to a better prick.”

“Jesus Christ, Tristian,” Rath says, lurching up from his seat. “This is fucking serious.” He shoves his phone in my face, the screen showing a photo of the charred remains of Perez’s SUV.

“Poor bastard,” I sigh, head shaking. “That was a sweet ride.”

Rath stares at me, clearly not buying my bullshit. “Care to tell me what you see on the hood of the car?”

I pretend to peer at the photo as though I didn’t see it light up like a bonfire in person. But there’s no fire in the photo, only the aftermath. Something about it is hard to miss, though. The red paint is completely gone off the hood, but what remains is pretty defined. Story’s skull. Our skull. God, watching her light that match and toss it on without a care in the world?

Sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.

And that includes the sight of her choking on my dick ten minutes later.

“Looks like someone is trying to set us up,” I remark.

There’s a sudden crash, Killian having chucked something off the mantle of the fireplace. “Don’t fucking play us, Mercer! You reek of smoke and gasoline. As if we don’t know about your hard-on for setting fires?” Killian takes a breath and shoves his fingers through his hair, clearly struggling to compose himself. This guy’s short fuse is going to give him an aneurism one of these days. “Goddamn it, Tristian. I’m not surprised you went off half-cocked, but I can’t believe you’d risk taking Story with you!”

“Sorry, Killer,” I toss back at him, “but I don’t know when you decided you’re the one who makes all the decisions around here. Was it when Story picked you as her first fuck? Or was it when you realized she wanted you least?”

Killian lunges for me and I hop up, coiled to strike back.

Rath jumps between us before it can come to that, holding his arms out to keep us apart. “Guys, chill,” he says, trying to deescalate the two of us. “We’ve got an actual fucking problem here.”

Will I fight Killian if I have to? Sure. Do I want him to bruise my pretty face? Not if I can help it. Still, I don’t back down.

“Is that what this is about?” Killian asks, eyes calculating a way to get around Rath. “The two of you just can’t handle that I’m fucking her, and you’re not.”

“Maybe one of us could,” I volley back, fists curling, “except you fucked her last night, so she never had a chance to heal up.”

Killian doesn’t look the least bit bothered. “That’s my right.”

“You’re wrong,” I argue, jerking my chin toward Rath. “Story belongs to me and Rath, too. Just because you got your dick into her and are making her sleep in your bed every night doesn’t change that.”

“He has a point,” Rath says, turning to level Killer with a stare. “We all agreed we’d give her some time.”

“Well, I’m sick of waiting!” he snaps, veins popping in his forearms. “You’ve been waiting a couple months. I’ve been waiting for years.”

“None of this has jack shit to do with getting revenge on the Counts,” Rath cuts in, raising his phone. “This is going to come back on us.”

“Whatever, it’s a skull,” I point out flippantly. “So what? Anyone could do that. Perez isn’t exactly short on enemies, and neither are we.”

Rath’s jaw goes tight as he turns to me. “We don’t need the heat. This was dumb as hell, Tristian.”

“I’ll tell you what it is,” I say to him, snatching the phone from his hand. I hold it up, showing them the picture. “This is only the first strike. I’m not finished. We’re not finished. They tried to defile what belongs to us. And yes, I said us.

“Just one problem,” Rath says, plucking his phone back. “It’s not the first strike. It’s the second.”

Killian’s gaze slowly moves to him. “The fuck does that mean?”

He takes in a hard breath, shoving his phone into his pocket. “I had a little run in with Perez a while back.” Sniffing, he casually adds, “I got mine.”

“Got your what?” I ask.

“Slashed his tires.” He says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Well, three of them, at least. Story got the fourth.”

“Excuse me?” My eyebrows hike up my forehead. “When the hell did that happen? Were you ever going to tell us?”

He tosses back. “Were you?”

 “Un-fucking-believable.” Killian’s staring at us with wide, infuriated eyes. “The two of you are just flying off the handle and taking our goddamn Lady with you?” He gives a low, humorless laugh. “I hope that stunt was worth it, because we’ve been called to the South Side. First thing in the morning. Your little act of rebellion is going to come with a price. So tell me,” he raises his chin, “who’s going to be the one to pay it? Because it sure as fuck won’t be either of you.”

It’s in that moment that I understand Killian’s rage. Payback on Perez was compulsory—he knows that bastard deserves it—but Story wasn’t on the South Side’s radar.

Not until I brought her with me.

“Killer,” I try, “she wanted—no, she needed to be a part of this. We were careful.”

“No, you weren’t.” He shakes his head. “And you didn’t give a fuck about what she wanted. This was about what you wanted.” Tilting his head, he gives me a cold smile. “Did it work? Did she fall on her knees for you?”

Technically, no

“Fuck this.” Rath grabs his leather jacket from the couch and heads for the stairs. “We’ll deal with this bullshit tomorrow. Go ahead and rip each other to shreds over some pussy, I don’t care.”

Neither of us moves until we hear Rath’s bedroom door slam shut, two floors above us.

It’s me who breaks the silence. “She sucked my dick on the way home.” I watch his eyes go hard and shuttered. “I didn’t have to make her. I didn’t have to ask her. I didn’t have to wait for her to be unconscious. She did it because she wanted it, and she had the time of her fucking life. So when you’re up there tonight, trying to sneak your dick into her, you remember the reason she’s so wet.” On my way up the stairs, I call back, “You’re welcome.”


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