Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 63199 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 316(@200wpm)___ 253(@250wpm)___ 211(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63199 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 316(@200wpm)___ 253(@250wpm)___ 211(@300wpm)
He shouldn’t have been here. He should have stayed close to Luke and waited for news from Roman instead of stalking Sebastian Sumner. Stalking was probably too soft a word. He was being a total creep.
Because breaking into someone’s flat and watching them sleep was pretty damn creepy, even by his pretty low standards.
Vlad stared at the sleeping man, trying to fight the resentment growing inside him. Rationally, he knew that this…obsession wasn’t Sebastian’s fault. He was a grown man, and he was the one responsible for his failings and for his lack of control. It wasn’t Sebastian’s fault that all this week he had felt like crawling out of his skin, wanting to see him.
It hadn’t been an easy thing to accept. Vlad had been forced to stop living in denial when he’d caught himself expecting—wanting—to see Sebastian curled on Luke’s couch, his face buried in a thick book, chewing on his thumb whenever something interesting was happening in the book. Vlad hadn’t realized that he had mentally cataloged Sebastian’s every little quirk—that he had spent an unhealthy amount of time watching Sebastian— until he found himself with too much time and nothing to do while Luke worked in his study. He could no longer deny he had liked watching Sebastian, liked looking at him, as if Sebastian was a beautiful piece of art. Vlad didn’t like to think what it meant, because neither of the conclusions he had come to was particularly comfortable.
Sebastian mumbled something sleepily and shifted in his sleep, rolling from his stomach onto his back. The sheets fell to his thighs.
Light gleamed off the muscles of Sebastian’s arms, the sculpted lines of his torso. Vlad swallowed. Damn him. Damn him for falling asleep with the lights on. Had it been dark, Vlad wouldn’t be able to see his long eyelashes casting thick shadows across his cheekbones, or that lovely mouth, parted slightly. He looked so fucking edible. Vlad had always thought it was a hyperbole when people said someone looked delicious. It wasn’t a hyperbole. Vlad felt almost physically hungry, all but drooling, his cock hard just from looking at the sleeping young man.
Dirty, perverted, sick, his inner voice whispered, sounding suspiciously like his uncle.
Shame curled low in his gut, but it couldn’t overpower the heady, mindless want his body ached with.
It’s sick.
Vlad wanted him.
It’s a perversion.
He wanted him.
It’s depraved and wicked.
He wanted him.
Vlad wrapped a hand around Sebastian’s shapely, muscular ankle. “Wake up.”
Sebastian stirred, muttered something, and continued sleeping.
Vlad stroked the ankle and said, louder, “Sebastian.”
“What?” Sebastian mumbled, his eyes closed. “Sleeping. Go away.”
“I want you,” Vlad said.
For a few moments, there was no reaction from the other man.
Then, Sebastian opened his eyes blearily and stared at him with confusion. “Vlad? What are you—How did you...?” His eyes narrowed, his expression becoming more alert. “Wait. Did you break into my flat?”
“Maybe.”
“Maybe?” Sebastian spluttered. “And you see nothing wrong with it? What is wrong with you?”
Vlad found himself smiling. “It’s one of the mildest crimes I’ve ever committed, actually.”
“You realize that’s not very reassuring, right?” Sebastian said, sitting up. Dark strands of hair fell over his eyes.
“Not trying to be reassuring,” Vlad said, and started unbuttoning his shirt.
Sebastian watched him with wide eyes. “What are you doing?” he whispered, licking his lips.
“Undressing.”
“Why?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” Vlad said, unbuckling his belt.
Sebastian’s dark eyes fixated on his fingers as they unzipped his fly. “I don’t understand,” he said helplessly, sounding like a confused child. Gone was the confident, experienced, unashamedly promiscuous man. Sebastian looked wide-eyed and vulnerable.
Vlad wanted to kiss him.
Dirty, perverted, sick.
Vlad ignored the insistent voice. He could—would—feel shame later. Right now he wanted to get between those thighs and kiss that mouth.
Down to his boxers, Vlad got in the bed, tugged Sebastian to him until he was half in Vlad’s lap, and put his hands on Sebastian’s bare shoulders. “Look,” Vlad said, holding Sebastian’s wide-eyed gaze. “I know you don’t like me. I know you said you didn’t want to deal with my bullshit. After meeting Fletcher, I get it. I’m not much better than him. I’m no good for you. I probably remind you of every shitty, painful thing he’s done. I get it.”
Sebastian’s dark brows furrowed. “What are you saying?”
“I’m being honest with you,” Vlad said, his thumbs stroking the smooth skin of Sebastian’s throat. Sebastian seemed to be one of those rare dark-haired men who didn’t need to shave all that much. Vlad’s gaze moved up Sebastian’s neck. He cleared his throat, tearing his eyes away from Sebastian’s mouth. “I’m saying you were right: I am the asshole and bully you accused me of being.” He met Sebastian’s gaze again. “I’m saying I want you, even though I’m not entirely okay with it. I don’t want to want you. That’s the truth. You should probably kick me out, because I look at you and want you and want to fuck you up for making me like this.”