Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 56786 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 284(@200wpm)___ 227(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56786 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 284(@200wpm)___ 227(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
Except it wasn’t being offered, not really.
Lucien was still too skittish to do anything besides fooling around. He seemed finally comfortable enough to have his tits fondled and sucked—more than comfortable, if the way he got absolutely wet every time Aksel as much as got his mouth on his tits was any indication—and he seemed eager enough to be finger-fucked or eaten out, but he got tense every time Aksel’s cock came anywhere near his hips.
Though he seemed fine with letting Aksel come on his tits.
It should have been enough.
But it wasn’t.
And that was the crux of the issue. No matter how much Lucien let him touch him, it was never enough. Aksel wanted more. He wanted everything.
But he knew he couldn’t. He couldn’t have everything. Not with Lucien. He’d known that for years.
Looking back, Aksel couldn’t remember a time he hadn’t wanted him. With the perspective of an adult, he could see what had happened: his Xeus had imprinted on Lucien when he was a kid. His beast had chosen Lucien for a mate long before Aksel had even understood what mating meant.
But in all fairness, it wouldn’t be accurate to blame his feelings only on the Xeus’s mating instincts.
The simple truth was, Aksel loved Lucien.
It hadn’t always been the love of a man, of course. Aksel couldn’t pinpoint when exactly his love had started shifting from the innocent love of a child for the kind, vulnerable omega he’d imprinted on to the love of an alpha for the omega he wanted to mate. The boundaries had always been murky. But when he’d started getting erections while Lucien kindly nursed him back to health, he’d known there was no going back for him. It had been hell. He’d known it was wrong, but he’d often pretended to be hungrier than he was so that he could touch and suck on Lucien’s tits more often. He couldn’t get enough, wanting him so damn badly.
But he’d known Lucien would never be his. Anything between them was impossible. He’d understood that even as a horny eighteen-year-old. Their society would never allow it. After everything Lucien had been through, Aksel would rather slit his own throat than make him the subject of another scandal.
So he’d tried to keep some distance. He’d tried to keep his feelings to himself. They would get him nowhere.
But eight years ago, with the sweet scent of Lucien’s heat weakening his resolve and bringing his alpha instincts to the surface, he had lost the battle with himself. It was lucky Royce had stopped him. And never mind that he’d wanted to kill his brother at the time. Royce had done the right thing. The smart thing. And he’d done another smart thing when he’d shipped him off to the army.
Aksel had hoped distance and time would kill his inappropriate infatuation, or at least would twist it back into the platonic, innocent love it had once been.
But no such thing happened. All that distance and time had accomplished was to make it obvious that Lucien would always be his home. His home and his ultimate hell. Because everything that made it impossible for them to be together was still as valid now as it had been eight years ago.
Lucien was his father’s husband. It didn’t matter that the marriage hadn’t been real. In the eyes of society, it made any relationship between them salacious, twisted, and perverse. Aksel would never subject Lucien to that kind of humiliation. Lucien didn’t deserve it, had never deserved public scorn and derision. Aksel would not give the gossipmongers another stick to beat Lucien with. He deserved better. He deserved so much better.
So when Aksel had returned home after eight years away, he’d been resolved to apologize for his past actions and keep his distance.
Unfortunately, his instincts—and his greedy, starved heart—didn’t agree with his brain. He could no more keep his distance from Lucien than a thirsty man could keep his distance from a well of fresh, cool water. He was no saint.
So he allowed himself to touch him, just a little, to take the edge of his thirst off. But he was only a man, and a man who had to pacify the beast that lived under his skin. The beast didn’t understand why it couldn’t have its mate. The beast only knew how to want and take. And the faintest scent of Lucien’s arousal was enough to drown out all his rational thoughts and bring the beast to the surface. All his resolve seemed to melt away whenever Lucien looked at him with those hungry, lost eyes.
He was his own worst enemy.
This could end only in a heartache. It didn’t matter that Lucien wanted him physically. Lucien’s body was simply starved for physical touch and pleasure; his mind still balked at being with Aksel that way. It was just physical for him, nothing more.