Lucas

I can hear them in the living area. My hands tremble with a need to open my laptop and watch them together. I wonder if Cole is giving me another show?

When I watched him fuck her earlier, it was just as incredible as I imagined. The longing in his eyes, the utter desire swimming from them.

He fucked her hard and fast, his fingers digging into her ass cheeks. I wonder if she has his imprint on them?

I wonder if he’s marked her?

I’d like my mark on her too. Something permanent. Something that shows she belongs to me as much as she belongs to him.

My cock twitches against my boxers as I imagine him fucking her, Tia moaning for more, holding his head tight to her breast.

Fuck, they’re beautiful together.

His bedroom door handle clicks, making my ears perk as I listen out for them, wishing for once the walls were thinner than they actually are. I stand from my bed, my solid cock peeking from under the waistband of my boxers.

Walking toward my already open bedroom door, I step into the dark corridor.

Cole and I sleep with our doors open, him so he can hear me if I have a bad episode in the night and me so that I know he’s there if I need him—‍so‍ I know I’m not being locked away, unable to escape.

They’re moaning against one another, and my hand twitches to push his door open even more, just a little. My heart races at the thought. I wonder what she feels like.

What it feels like.

When she screams out his name, my cock pulsates on its own accord, forcing me to move into the living area away from them, swallowing away the shame of wanting them.

I replace myself standing at the dining table, looking down at the exact spot he fucked her at earlier. My hand glides over the wood where her firm ass was sitting.

Where her pussy was being pounded by him.

I take my cock out and point it over the bare wood, wiping the pre-cum over the exact spot her perfect pussy cried out for him to fuck her harder. The cold wood against my tip sends a shiver of excitement through my body.

I fist myself tighter, roughly pumping my cock over the table. Fucking her harder, faster. Forcing her to take my thick cock.

My orgasm hits me hard, and it forces me onto my tiptoes. “Fuck!” Ropes of thick white cum splash onto the woodwork, marking it.

Marking this spot as mine too.

I straighten my cufflink, a nervous feeling taking over my stomach that I don’t like. It’s because of her.

Cole is at the gym this morning, and I can hear her in the kitchen, our kitchen. Hers now too.

Stepping into the corridor, I take a deep breath and steeple my emotions behind the façade I let people see every day.

Arrogance, confidence, and control.

As if sensing my approach, she turns. Her lips part, but no words leave them. Her cheeks pinken, and I can’t help but wonder why. Does she replace me attractive? My heart hammers against my chest.

Her blue eyes quickly flick over my frozen form before glancing away and back at the countertop. Disappointment curdles inside me, her look of appreciation short lived.

Placing my laptop on the dining table, I walk toward the refrigerator, ignoring her completely.

The atmosphere between us is cold and detached.

I take out a shake and open the bottle, take a glass from the cupboard, and pour it in. Drinking the shake in one go, I rinse the glass and place it into the dishwasher. Then, I move toward the coffee maker and begin to make myself a cup.

“Would you like a croissant? They’re freshly made.”

I glance around at the mess on the counter and cringe. My hands tighten on my mug while I tell myself she’ll clean it once she’s finished.

Her eyes dart toward the mess. “I’ll tidy it up, Lucas. I wouldn’t leave it like this.”

Her soft voice sends a bolt of longing and need through me, forcing me to take a seat at the dining table to hide my growing erection.

I open the laptop as an attempt to distract me from her. Conscious of her presence, I try my best to ignore her by swiping up at today’s calendar to view the meetings with my legal team.

“The croissant, would you like one?”

I refuse to glance up and see the light extinguish from her eyes when I utter the word “No” in the same sharp tone I use for business meetings.

She sighs heavily before turning back around and continuing whatever she’s doing with the croissant.

I never eat breakfast. Even after moving into Cole’s house, I still couldn’t stomach it after going without it for so long.

I watch her from over the top of my laptop. She makes quick work of tidying the kitchen, then takes her plate and seems to hover around the dining table, unsure whether to sit or not. My eyes latch on to hers, making her gaze dart away. “I’m taking this to Cole’s room.” She holds up the plate with the croissant.

Annoyance rumbles inside me. Does she not want to be in my presence?

“Sit!” I snap and nod toward the chair opposite me, the same space I fucked my hand to last night.

She slowly places the plate down on the table, as though I’m a predator and she’s my prey, her movements uncertain.

The plate sits in the exact spot I came all over last night, the same place her hands now rest. I imagine my cum seeping into her skin from beneath her hand. The thought alone makes me close my eyes and breathe steady breaths through my nostrils.

“Lucas. If me being here bothers you . . .”

I snap my eyes open. Vulnerability and hurt coat her expression, and her shoulders are slumped forward.

“It doesn’t bother me.” I hold her gaze, hoping she can see the truth behind my words.

“I want to thank you, for everything that you’re doing for me and Harper.” Our eyes connect, and the atmosphere between us is so tense she darts her eyes away.

“I’m going for full custody. But it might take a while, so for now, I’m pushing for more visitation,” I say.

Her body practically vibrates with excitement, and my lips turn up at her reaction. “You are?”

I try to mask how warm and proud I feel inside that I caused that reaction. Instead, I give her a firm nod. “I am. She deserves to be with her mother, and Cole says you’re incredible with Harper.”

A wistful look takes over her face, and she breaks off a piece of the croissant, placing it on her tongue. I watch the movement of her mouth, transfixed. “I won’t hurt him. I would never.” She flicks her tongue over her lip, taking the small crumb sitting there with it.

I swallow past the lump in my throat, my cock rock hard in my pants and pressing painfully against my zipper. My eyes dart down toward the table; the marking is still there but not visible to someone unaware.

“I promise.” Her voice seeps through my skin and into my heart.

I want to believe it.

But when she replaces out the secrets I’m withholding, will she feel the same way? Will she punish him?

Will Tia choose him above everything else?

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