Empire of Hate: A Second Chance Enemies to Lovers Romance

“If you tell anyone about this, I’ll say I was drugged.”

Nicole laughs, the sound drifting in the chilly afternoon air and doing strange shit to my chest that I refuse to honor with a name.

There’s other shit happening to my dick, too, but it’s neither strange nor vague. I’m not ashamed to admit that I want this woman with the desperation of a sex addict, an incubus, and a nymph combined.

It’s borderline obsession at this point.

Yesterday after we had breakfast and lunch with Astrid and her loud family, I couldn’t wait to get Nicole all to myself. However, as the little shit Jayden would have it, we accompanied him on a London tour like some sodding tourists.

He took more photos than an egomaniac celebrity. And fine, it might have been fun, too.

I love watching how carefree Nicole becomes around her brother or how her motherly instinct shows up at any hint of danger. She was the one who was vehemently against coming back to England, but she was more eager than the tourists and Jayden united.

Thankfully, he’s spent all his energy and some and therefore, was out soon after we got home, which gave me a chance to fuck Nicole until dawn.

No kidding.

But this time, I made sure to tell my staff if someone interrupts us in the morning, they’re fired. Since they love Grandpa’s mansion more than their children, they paled and swore on their sacred tea that it wouldn’t happen again.

So I fucked Nicole again in the morning until she whined, then laughed, then sighed into my chest. I love how she snuggles up to me as if I’m her favorite person. As if we’re the only people in the world.

But what I love more is how much she likes the way I touch her, how she doesn’t escape in her head anymore and meets me stroke for stroke.

It’s as if she…trusts me.

My short honeymoon phase came to a halt when Jayden came knocking on our door. He demanded to visit his new friend, Brandon.

Nicole was skeptical about that, but when Uncle Henry offered to take him to Astrid’s and spend the day there, she couldn’t say no.

My schedule for the day was fingering her sweet pussy, eating it for breakfast, fucking it, then doing that all over again—not in that particular order—until we board the plane tomorrow.

Nicole, however, had other plans. She gave me the sloppiest blowjob of all blowjobs that may have transported me to another realm then told me to take her to the cinema if I want another one.

She’s a smart little minx and knew I couldn’t say no to having my dick sucked by her full pink lips.

So we go to see the fucking film. A sappy romantic one that makes my eyes roll to the back of my head.

But it’s fine, I can handle this shit, because another blowjob is waiting for me.

Best currency ever invented.

“It wasn’t that bad.” She shakes her head as we walk through the nearby park. Since it’s early afternoon and the weather is bloody miserable with clouds upon clouds of gray—no surprise there—not so many people are out and about.

Nicole is fucking glowing in a simple white dress and a light peach-colored sweater. Her hair kisses the wind and replaces the non-existent sun, flying all over her face like an angel’s halo.

I can’t even look at her without being blinded, stabbed in the chest, and all these other chaotic emotions.

So I choose to focus on the current conversation instead. “No, it wasn’t bad. It was horrible and fucking cheesy.”

“All good love stories are.”

“All good love stories end in tragedy, Peaches.”

She peeks at me from beneath her lashes, then stares ahead. “I like to reimagine their endings. The tragic love stories, I mean. It used to make me feel giddy when I was younger.”

“I didn’t know you were a hopeless romantic.”

“The worst kind.”

“No wonder your favorite films are romance.”

“Not only romance. I don’t mind action, historical, thriller, or fantasy as long as there’s romance in the midst.”

“You graduated from hopeless romantic and entered the category of a creepy romantic.”

“You have no right to judge when your taste in cinema is boring.”

“Say what now?”

“Quentin Tarantino’s films are your favorites. Can you get any more obvious?”

“Excuse you, Ms. Adler, but his films are nowhere near as boring as your cheesy romances.”

“Shoot. Shoot. Bang. The end.” She rolls her eyes. “I mean, come on.”

“It’s entertaining.”

“No, it’s cheesy in the other sense.”

“We’ll agree to disagree on that.” I pause, bringing us to a stop. “Now, hold on. How did you know I liked Tarantino?”

A blush covers her features. “I know a lot of things about you.”

“Like what?”

“You like Muse’s music and want “Resistance” to be played at your funeral. You thought reading for assignments was boring and barely turned them in. You’re grumpy in the morning and used to only drink black or iced coffee. Now, you only consume black with one gram of damn sugar.”

I smirk. “And you still managed to mess it up a few times.”

“It was on purpose because you’re a jerk, in case you didn’t know.”

“Shocker. Might want to report that to someone who cares.”

“Do you channel the twat tendencies or do they come naturally?”

“A little bit of both.” I stare at my watch. “Time to go home for that BJ before I’m cock-blocked.”

“Not yet.” She bites her lower lip.

“Not yet? What else do you intend to do in this sodding weather that made kings and queens give up these lands?”

“Just walk.”

“You sound more suspicious than a traitor with a torch.”

“Just do as you’re told or my mouth won’t show you some love.”

“I already paid for that. The cheesy film, remember?”

“Don’t care. This is part of the bargain.”

I groan, inwardly kicking my pussy-whipped dick for agreeing to this in the first place. I could’ve taken her back to the house and had not gotten a BJ but the whole package.

But when she said she wanted to spend time outside, I couldn’t say no. In a way, this is our first date.

Fuck you, Junior. Are you on my side or hers?

“Also”—she glares at me—“you should’ve told me about Uncle Henry. I was so flustered.”

She was. But when she came back, she looked the happiest I’ve seen her in recent memory.

“You both needed closure,” I say simply.

It was one of the things that bothered her, and apparently, I made it my mission to get rid of them one by one.

What happens next completely takes me aback.

Nicole gets on her tiptoes and kisses my cheek.

Well, fuck. Is it wrong that I want to grab her by the throat and kiss her against the tree while everyone is watching?

“What was that for?” I ask instead.

“A thank-you.” She swallows. “I thought I’d lost him for good, but turns out, he was always searching for me.”

“If you want to really thank me, that kiss can go somewhere down below.”

She fixates me with a playful look. “I said later.”

“Later isn’t a measurable time so it’s meaningless. In fact, later could be the fifteen minutes we’ll spend on the drive home.”

“Nice try.” Nicole’s laughing now and I can’t get enough of the sound. Of the carefree nature of it.

The fact that it shines through pain is what makes it even more special.

I would sell both my kidneys in a buy-one-get-one-free package if that means I’ll see her laugh more.

So I try to keep it on her face as we take the fucking stroll, twice, while I’m holding her hand. Because fuck it, I’ll be sappy if it’s with her.

Once we sit on the bench, she fingers the healing wound on my temple, her brows knitting together. “Does it hurt?”

“Not really, but I’m seriously worried about the fact that it’ll scar. My magazine cover status is in jeopardy.”

She laughs. “It’s their loss. Besides, scars are beautiful.”

“How so?”

“We’re humans, we’re not supposed to be perfect.”

“Aren’t you the philosophical one?”

She leans back on both her palms and stares at the sky, as shitty and cloudy as it is, I wish I’m that sky right now. “I just learned to appreciate things and erase others.”

“Was it hard?”

“Sometimes. But I didn’t let it bring me down.” She smiles and I want to trap that smile in my chest. Better yet, I wish I was there all these years she’s been struggling on her own.

I wish I didn’t let my dick dictate my actions and how I felt.

“I need to check on Jay.” Nicole rummages through her bag. “Ugh, I can’t find the thing. Can you call me?”

I would rather not. I like the peacefulness of this moment too much to ruin it, but I do so anyway.

She pulls it out and releases a sigh. “Found it.”

I pause at the name she saved me as and snatch her phone away. “Are you calling your boss a bloody idiot, Ms. Adler?”

A blush spreads over her cheeks and neck. “All assistants do.”

“When did this start?”

“When we were eighteen.”

“This won’t do.” I tell her to unlock the phone, then change the name to Daniel surrounded by two hearts. Then I take a selfie while I kiss her lips and put it as the designated picture.

Nicole calls me silly, but she’s smiling like the hopeless romantic she is.

We spend some more time in the park before she insists that we buy groceries.

“You know I have staff who keep the fridge stocked, right?” I push the trolley as she throws all sorts of things in it. “They’d have a mini-stroke and call you Americanized behind your back as they sip their Earl Grey tea.”

She throws a smile at me over her shoulder. “I’ll drink with them. I love tea.”

“Congratulations for being one of the many Brits who consume unhealthy amounts of it.”

“You don’t. You prefer coffee.”

“Which is why my staff call me the Americanized Sterling behind my back, too. So we’re mates, you and I. Congratulations again.”

She stares at me while squeezing a packet of something green floating in a snot-like liquid. Please tell me she’s just checking it out of curiosity and not actually going to take that.

“Have your staff stayed in the mansion all these years?”

“All eleven Christmases of them without a single present from yours truly.”

“But why?”

“They come with the mansion.”

“But they’re people.”

“Extremely annoying ones with a sense of loyalty that resembles a samurai’s second hand. You know, the one that finishes them off after they disembowel themselves. In my case, if I choose to go, they would poison my coffee.”

“Why?”

“They hate that stuff. Last I heard, it’s considered blasphemy to prefer it over tea.”

“No, I mean why did you keep them?”

“I didn’t. They were technically fired eleven years ago, but they’re more stubborn than my ‘I couldn’t care less’ attitude.”

“Who pays them, then?”

“My brother, through my owned shares. He’s been managing the whole thing and probably bribed them with premium Chinese tea to be a thorn in my side.”

“They must’ve been so lonely, serving a mansion without a master.”

“Uh, hello? Did you miss the part where they drink tea to gossip about us?”

“You disappeared for eleven years, then came back out of the blue. You should be thankful they even welcomed you in.”

“There was a keyword you missed. It’s my mansion.”

“That they lived in more than you. It’s such a beautiful property, but you abandoned it without looking back.”

“I don’t particularly get attached to places.”

“I noticed that.” Her tone softens. “I bet you don’t even consider your penthouse a home.”

“It’s just a house.”

“Then where’s your home, Daniel?”

Right in front of me.

Wait. What?

What in the actual fuck was that thought all about? I didn’t just think of Nicole as my home.

I simply didn’t.

“Nowhere,” I grumble, my grip hardening on the trolley.

“That’s just sad,” she says with a far away look in her eyes then quickly sobers up. “Anyway, I have to count your staff in for dinner.”

“You’re not cooking for Mary Poppins’s spawn, Peaches.”

“Yes, I am.” She slides the snot-like thingy into the basket.

And I’m hoping they will choke on it.

Nicole wasn’t kidding when she said she was counting them in. The doorman, the cook, the maid, the butler, and the gardener. All five snobbish tea monsters of them.

I had to reschedule my BJ more times than I could count, then I ended up helping her in the kitchen, despite how much the smell made me want to throw up all over the stainless-steel equipment.

She told me she could handle it with the cook’s help, but it was either keeping myself busy or bending her over and fucking her with a manner that will provide my staff with tea talk for decades to come.

While accidentally traumatizing them.

Nicole even serves them food in the kitchen and tells me to help her set the dinner table for four.

Me, her, Jay, and I suppose she invited Uncle Henry for dinner so she can spend as much time with him as possible before going back to New York.

Double cock-block.

But I can’t have that if I want to function normally during the fucking dinner.

So when she says she’ll go change then come back, I follow after her like a professional stalker.

I pass the staff that are fawning over her food with awe that must disgust them deep down.

That’s right, tea monsters, be impressed.

The sound of a shower reaches me as soon as I step into our room. She didn’t go to the guest room that was designated to her, she came to the one I took her to that first night.

If Astrid didn’t use her creepy/drama queen card, I would’ve stayed with Nicole in bed two days in a row, coming up with creative ways to make her come.

Now, I need to tiptoe around in my own house.

I kick my clothes away, retrieve a small object I bought earlier when she wasn’t looking, and step into the bathroom.

The steam invades the space enough to create a mystic smoke-like aura around Nicole.

And the conundrum doesn’t escape me. She’s like smoke now, I can touch it, but it’ll eventually vanish.

Like she did before.

I banish those poisonous thoughts out of my head and rake my gaze over her sublime curves, smooth waist, and her peach-like arse.

She’s facing the wall, tilting her head back and letting the water cascade over her. And I’m almost sure I trapped an angel, one I don’t intend to ever let go.

I slide behind her and grasp her chin that’s tilted back. She startles and I can’t resist pushing a finger inside her mouth.

She sucks on it, stirring my dick to life with each pull of her lips.

“About that BJ, Peaches.” I grab her arse and squeeze until she moans. “I’m upgrading it to a shower fuck. And by that, I mean your pussy, then your arse.”

A gasp escapes her delicate throat, her biteable lips falling open around my finger.

The pads of my fingers dig into the flesh of her arse cheek and I slowly part it. “Did someone touch this?”

“No…” She stares at me over her shoulder, and I nearly come then and there.

I always wondered about the meaning behind the way Nicole looked at me. It was blank, annoyed almost, so I settled on the fact that she was a bitch, but I never thought that she’s not actually annoyed with me.

She was probably annoyed at herself for watching me.

For feeling the need to leave me her seductive peach lollipops and being around me whether she liked it or not.

And now, that look is back, the slight annoyance mixed with deep lust.

“You hate it, don’t you?” I jam my knee between her legs, intentionally brushing my skin against her core. “You hate how much your little cunt wants my dick.”

She mumbles what seems like a “shut up.”

I chuckle against her ear, earning a shudder, then bite down on the outer shell. “You hate that we’re so compatible, you probably touched yourself to the memory of us late at night, under the covers, in one of your cotton robes. But it never felt real, did it? Not like this.”

I wrap an arm around her waist and drive into her from behind. She gets on her tiptoes, slightly biting my fingers.

But she pushes back into me, bending her back slightly as she slaps both her hands on the wall for balance.

A wave of possessiveness drags me to a dark hole and I remove my finger from her mouth, then grab her hair in a tight ponytail. I pull her back and lick my way from her tantalizing throat to her ear. “I want you to scream, Nicole, not hold it in.”

She shakes, due to pleasure or something else, I have no clue. It’s probably both.

“I…don’t do that.”

“You will now. You’ll scream for me when I fuck you.”

“D-Daniel…” she strains, staring at me from underneath her lashes and I can feel her stiffening. “I can’t do that…”

“Do you trust me?”

I hate that it takes her some time to nod her head, but again, I didn’t have a great track record with her thus far.

“I’ll make it good.” I kiss her deep but fast. “I promise.”

The moment I release her mouth, her lips find mine again, then she whispers against them, “Make me forget, please.”

I do just that.

I fuck her hard, my hand gripping her jaw, kissing her anywhere and everywhere I can reach. On her eyelashes, cheek, nose, throat, beauty mole, and those delicious fucking lips that taste like peaches.

Nicole explores me as well, her fingers getting lost in my hair as she kisses the line of my jaw and whatever she can reach of my neck.

She even sucks the skin there and I do the same, leaving my mark on her as deep as she engraves her mark on me.

The water beats down on us like a violent participant in our intense fucking. It’s a witness of how much this woman drives me bloody insane.

Like I’m seriously considering seeing someone about my damn unhealthy tendencies when it comes to her.

The blonde who made me hate all blondes.

The woman who broke my heart and is slowly mending it back together again.

Her breath hitches and I know she’s getting close. So I release her hair, part her arse cheeks and drive the butt plug in. Her moan echoes around us like the most sophisticated music.

“Does it feel full, Peaches?”

“Yes…oh, God…”

“Don’t push it out, if you can’t handle that, how will you take my cock?”

I up my rhythm until she’s gasping with her mouth wide open. I fuck her harder until I feel the thin line separating my dick from the plug.

Then, the most beautiful thing happens when she comes. Her eyes meet mine and she screams.

It’s not a sound.

It’s my name.

I kiss it out of her lips as I keep my unhinged rhythm, then I wrench my mouth from her. “I’m going to fuck your arse, Nicole.”

“O-okay.”

“It might hurt. Scratch that, it’ll hurt like that first time I tore through your virgin cunt.”

“I don’t care if it’s you,” she speaks against my lips, then whispers in the most erotic voice I’ve ever heard. “Fuck me, Daniel.”

It’s all the invitation I need.

I pull out of her at the same time as I jostle the plug out and throw it on the ground.

Grabbing Nicole by the hips, I bare her to me and use her juices to coat her inviting hole. She whimpers, then moans, and I slide in the first two inches. She gets on her tiptoes, her eyes closing shut.

I release one of her cheeks and grip her chin. “Look at me, Nicole.”

Her eyes slowly flutter open, they’re drooping with pleasure and something else I can’t put my finger on.

“Relax, let me in.”

Her muscles loosen around me and I’m able to thrust a few more inches. She moans this time, her mouth falling open, and I can feel her welcoming me to her warmth.

So I kiss her, stimulating her nipples and her clit until I’m all the way in.

“Fuck, baby. I love your arse as much as your pussy.”

“It…feels so full.”

“Do you like it?”

She nods a little, her mouth open and her eyes drooping with hazy desire.

I become unhinged and thrust into her with the urgency of an animal. I can’t stop or get enough. The sound of her moans and gasps is my aphrodisiac.

And when she comes, I keep going and going at my ruthless pace until I release deep inside her.

Fuck.

Sex with Nicole will either suck me dry or become my cause of death.

An option I’m not entirely opposed to if not for anything, then to see how she talks about my dick at my funeral if she’s the one who murdered it.

I slowly slide out of her, reveling in the sight of cum that trails down the back of her thighs.

Is it wrong that I want to see this for the rest of my life?

That way, she’ll be mine.

Only mine.

My lips find hers and I’m flat out making out with her pubescent style, waiting for my dick to resurrect to life so I can pick up where I left off.

I might have an obsession with kissing Nicole. I like to think I’m a healthy man without serial creeper tendencies, but deep in my mind, I know I’d kiss her any chance I get for all the times I couldn’t.

For all the times I wished I could trap her in a room and kiss her until she looked at me the way she did that day she almost died.

Like I’m the only one who mattered.

After a few minutes of kissing me like in one of her cheesy black and white romance films, Nicole pulls back with a gasp. “Oh my God, we’re going to be late.”

“For the second round? Don’t worry about that, it’ll happen in about two minutes.”

“The dinner.” She pushes me away.

“That can wait. In fact, I’m not hungry.”

“Well, I am.” She wraps herself in a towel and winces when she steps into the en-suite room.

I guess having dinner wouldn’t be so bad.

And yes, I’m trying to pacify my urges and keep up the “I’m not a sex addict” façade. Stay out of it.

Nicole tells me to hurry up and meet her downstairs.

By the time I put on some trousers and a shirt, I’m ready to shove food down both our throats so we can go back to a much more fun activity.

How much Minions merch should I buy Jay so he goes to bed early tonight?

A commotion of voices scatters my master plan.

My steps to the dining room turn heavy, instead of light, and the snap of emotions jerks my spine into a line.

This isn’t real.

I probably frustrated the tea monsters enough that they put something in my water.

Maybe this whole thing ever since Nicole showed up at Weaver & Shaw has been a dream and I’ll wake up to find myself dashing, every girl’s wet dream and so fucking alone, authors should write nihilistic books about my brain.

But the moment I step into the Victorian-like dining room, I know this is, in fact, real.

The two people I only wished to see at my funeral while I was in a casket and they threw skulls at me are here.

My mother and my fucking brother.