The next day Julian declined to accompany them again, because he didn’t feel well. Or at least that was what Liam said when Devlin asked.
It shouldn’t have bothered him as much as it did. Julian didn’t have to accompany them. He might really be feeling unwell. Or he might be with Nasr.
Either way, it was none of his business.
Devlin somehow managed to put on a smile for the cameras. He somehow managed a semblance of a conversation with Liam over their dinner date. He probably wasn’t as attentive as he should have been, judging by Liam’s baffled and annoyed looks, but it was better than the alternative.
When their date was finally over, Devlin dropped Liam off at the Blake house—and then stared at the building’s facade.
“Wait for me,” he told his pilot at last and got out of the helicopter.
Liam had long since disappeared into the house, and Devlin didn’t see him when he pushed the f
Jules barely slept that night.He was too warm, his skin too sensitive, his cock achingly hard, despite the suppressants. He dreaded imagining what his heat would be like without them. He’d had to jerk off four times so far, but it didn’t slake the hunger under his skin. He ached. He burned.Putting it plainly, he wanted a cock in him. He wanted a knot, thick and hard. It was scary how much he wanted it, how much his thoughts kept fixating on it, imagining an erect alpha cock in lurid detail.Hating himself a little, Jules turned onto his stomach and tried to fall asleep, but his body seemed to have a mind of its own, rutting his stiff cock against the mattress, his hole clenching around the dildo in him. He sighed in defeat and pressed a button on the remote. The dildo started thrusting, in and out, with slick, obscene sounds. Fuck.Jules turned up the speed, but somehow it still wasn’t enough. Part of him knew it was a fake cock. It wa
Liam Blake was used to people thinking he was just a dumb, decorative thing incapable of anything beyond batting his eyelashes and looking pretty. It was an assumption he didn’t mind—he even used it to his advantage sometimes—but privately, he considered himself a rather observant person.Except right now he felt like an idiot for not noticing it sooner.“It” being the fact that his little brother had something of a crush on the Duke of Westcliff. At least Liam hoped it was just a crush. He didn’t want Jules to get hurt.There was something else that had completely blindsided him: until now, he hadn’t realized that the duke treated Jules completely differently from the way he treated him, Liam.It wasn’t that Westcliff had ever treated him badly; no. He was perfectly charming and polite, and he was never as presumptuous and pushy as some other alphas—he never scent-marked Liam without his permission&md
“Did you really break up with Liam?” Jules said the moment De—Westcliff entered the drawing room.Westcliff paused before closing the door.And then they were alone.Jules swallowed. He sternly told his heart to stop being stupid. This was his brother’s future mate. His brother’s. Not his. Never his.But fuck, Westcliff looked unfairly handsome in that dark suit and pale-blue shirt—it made his tanned jawline and neck look mouthwateringly good.Jules dragged his eyes away.“Liam is out,” he said when the silence stretched. “If you wanted to apologize to him, that is. He’s out on a walk with another suitor.” Liam had been confident that it would make Westcliff jealous and contrite and he would soon “come crawling back” to him, begging his forgiveness.Except Westcliff didn’t look particularly contrite. His expression was very strange, actually. He was lo
“You smell like Westcliff.”Jules froze with his spoon halfway to his mouth. Putting it down, he darted a look at his brother across the table, hoping his face didn’t betray the discomfort he felt. Though, “discomfort” didn’t seem to be an adequate word to describe the mix of guilt and anxiety that had settled in the pit of his stomach ever since he’d left Westcliff in the drawing room.The worst part was, he didn’t feel guilty for what they’d done. He felt guilty for not feeling guilty. Fuck, he felt like a terrible person. Liam might not love Westcliff, but he still wanted to marry him. That had to mean something, right? He should have felt guilty. Except the irrational part of him, his omega side, saw nothing wrong with what they’d done—Westcliff felt like his alpha—and there was no use trying to apply logic to feelings.“So he did call on me while I was out,” Liam said. &ldqu
Devlin had a busy day. He spent most of it working with the public relations team on his inauguration speech—because apparently he couldn’t just wing it. Every word had to be perfect and reach the right audience. These days, monarchies were an unpopular form of government, and to remain supported by their people, they had to work for it twice as hard as the republics did. Devlin understood that it was necessary, but all of the public relations work was very exhausting and frustrating, and by the end of the day, he felt like letting his claws out and growling, just to finally shut Cormack up.It certainly didn’t help that he had been incredibly distracted all day long.Sighing, Devlin leaned back in his chair and stared at the computer in front of him without seeing anything. In the background, Cormack was droning on about his approval ratings, as if Devlin couldn’t read the data in front of him.He could read it—but he
He managed to sneak into the house without being seen by the servants. He knocked on Julian’s door, once, and waited, his heart pounding and his senses on high alert. He felt disconcertingly similar to how he felt before his rut: his skin hot, his senses sharpened, and the beast uncomfortably close to the surface.He had rehearsed what he was going to say.It was a mistake. It can’t happen again. I don’t want to be my father. I don’t want to hurt you. We need to put some distance between us. You deserve better than this. Better than me.But all his rehearsed, logical arguments left his mind the moment Julian opened the door.Julian wasn’t wearing anything seductive. All he was wearing was an old, oversized dark red shirt—and nothing else, as far as Devlin could tell.Swallowing, Devlin dragged his gaze from those cute little toes to Julian’s well-shaped legs and thighs. Like most Dainiri omegas, Julian was
He managed to sneak into the house without being seen by the servants. He knocked on Julian’s door, once, and waited, his heart pounding and his senses on high alert. He felt disconcertingly similar to how he felt before his rut: his skin hot, his senses sharpened, and the beast uncomfortably close to the surface.He had rehearsed what he was going to say.It was a mistake. It can’t happen again. I don’t want to be my father. I don’t want to hurt you. We need to put some distance between us. You deserve better than this. Better than me.But all his rehearsed, logical arguments left his mind the moment Julian opened the door.Julian wasn’t wearing anything seductive. All he was wearing was an old, oversized dark red shirt—and nothing else, as far as Devlin could tell.Swallowing, Devlin dragged his gaze from those cute little toes to Julian’s well-shaped legs and thighs. Like most Dainiri omegas, Julian was
sorry for repetition...... Jules woke up, feeling… mmm, wonderful.His cheek was pressed against something warm and comfortable. Smiling sleepily, he nuzzled into his pillow. It smelled good.The pillow moved. “Good morning.”Jules forced his eyes open and found himself staring at the Duke of Westcliff’s magnificent bare chest—which was the thing he’d apparently been using as a pillow.“You didn’t leave,” Jules stated, blinking. “And you’re half-naked. I’m pretty sure you weren’t half-naked yesterday when I fell asleep.”Devlin’s lips twitched, but otherwise his expression remained oddly somber. “We need to talk,” he said.Jules winced. “Please can we not? I know how that talk goes. We really should skip it.”“Skip it,” Devlin repeated, looking at him strangely.Jules p