God of Wrath: A Dark Enemies to Lovers Romance (Legacy of Gods Book 3)

The need to pummel something into the ground reddens my vision.

My fist clenches, but I don’t act on the urges.

Or impulses.

In fact, I’m calculative to a fault and only take action once I’ve predicted all the possible outcomes of a certain situation.

Apparently, that principle doesn’t apply to the infuriating girl who just left the room.

I stay behind for a few minutes, not only to expel all impulsive thoughts, but also to put my cock to fucking sleep.

It doesn’t matter that I was inside her not ten minutes ago; there’s always this primal need to claw deep into her skin and never stop.

But either I calm the fuck down or I’ll permanently kidnap her to my lair, where no one will be able to find her, let alone see her.

Or touch her.

The image of those two fuckers putting their hands on her sends a new wave of rage—definitely not the image to have in my futile attempts to relax.

I’m not worried that she’ll get away. I’m acquainted with the club’s owner, a new guy trying to do business with the mafia, and he’ll give me access to security footage if I ask for it. Also, my most efficient guard, Ilya, has explicit orders to watch Cecily in case she turns off her phone like she did earlier or disappears without notice.

It’s how I knew she was here and I followed.

I dial his number, and he answers after two rings.

“Situation,” I say point-blank.

“Miss Knight is trying to carry her friend, who’s drunk enough to laugh while she’s sleeping.”

“Location.”

“The left side of the bar.”

“Shoo away any unwanted attention until I get there.”

“Got it, Boss.”

“What happened to the two from earlier?” I step out of the room, not feeling any calmer in the fucking slightest.

“I got them thrown out of the club.”

“Good.”

“Boss.”

“Yeah?”

“One of them, the blond, said something that made Miss Knight go pale.”

I pause, my finger sliding up and down the back of the phone. Now that I think about it, Cecily looked to be on the verge of her dissociating state. I thought it was because she was surrounded by two guys and might’ve felt threatened in the presence of the opposite sex.

It was a provocation when she said she’d sleep with someone else. I know she can’t, but it still pissed me the fuck off.

“What did he say?” I ask Ilya.

“Something about her being too beautiful to be hidden. As soon as he said those words, it was like something came over her.”

That could be part of her cautious character, but something tells me that’s not the case.

“He’s a student at our university, right?”

“Probably. He and his friend are American.”

“Find him.”

That’s when I’ll know if it’s only a small-time felony for daring to dance with her or something else. And who am I kidding? This might as well be an excuse to cut his dick off for having the audacity to touch her.

After hanging up, I stride to the bar area. Ilya stands on the opposite end, close enough to intervene if anyone pushes their luck, but far enough not to be noticed.

Cecily pulls on a drunk Ava’s hand, only to be tugged down and trip.

She’s wearing heels tonight and a fuck-me dress that’s designed to show off her curves, her slim legs, and her pale shoulders.

My cock twitches at the sight. Again. And I close my eyes for a brief second before I stalk toward them.

“Come on, Ava.” Cecily grabs her friend’s hand. “I told you I can’t carry you when you’re drunk.”

“Cecy!” Ava wraps her in a hug, grinning. “My beautiful bestie.”

Then she sniffs and pulls back. “Why do you smell like male cologne? And sex? Oh my fucking God, did you shag?”

Cecily’s face goes red.

Ava’s mouth opens and then closes before she blurts, “OMG, OMG, you’re not a prude anymore. OMGEEE. Everyone! This girl right here finally got the D!”

“Ava!” Cecily slams a hand on her mouth. “I swear to God, if you don’t get up and help me take you to the car, I’m going to call Eli so he’ll pick us up.”

A glare is all Ava offers before she sluggishly gets up and leans on Cecily.

“You’re a cruel little bitch.” Ava staggers, then falls on her. “How can you threaten me with He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named?”

Cecily tries to half carry her and crumbles every second at her weight. “Ugh, when did you become so heavy?”

“Rude. I’m not heavy…” Ava trails off, and blinks upon seeing me standing behind them. “Oh, hi, Anni’s scary brother. Do you also party here? Good taste, good taste. Also, can you let Anni live a little? Thanks in advance.”

Cecily freezes, then whips her head in my direction. She must loosen her grip from around Ava, because she falls to the floor in a heap of giggles.

“What are you doing here?” Cecily purses her lips. “Go away.”

“Don’t.” I step into her space and she has no room to push back unless she’s willing to step on her friend.

I grab her by the waist and press her front against my chest. “You seem to be developing the habit of defying me just to get on my nerves, but that won’t serve any purpose except for pissing me off. And you know exactly what I become like when I’m mad, so don’t fucking test me.”

She bangs her tiny fists against my chest as if that will somehow hurt me. “Just leave me alone. Me trying to get my friend home has nothing to do with our arrangement, so you shouldn’t even be here.”

“I’ll be the one to decide that.” I release her for no other reason than to control myself.

If I touch her soft skin for one more minute, I’ll need to plow inside her tight heat.

Again.

Cecily crouches down to hold Ava, who’s using the floor as her pillow and is practically sleeping. She nudges her friend and implores her to wake up, but there’s no sign of responsiveness.

I nod at Ilya and he swiftly picks up Ava and carries her in his arms. Cecily’s eyes widen. “What are you doing?”

“Giving you a ride home.” I interlink her fingers with mine when she tries to snatch Ava from Ilya.

When he starts toward the back exit, she practically jogs behind him, and only my grip keeps her from physically stopping him.

This is the first time I’ve held her hand and I can’t help feeling that it’s small, soft, and fits perfectly in mine.

“I can call one of our friends,” she tries to tell me, having figured that Ilya won’t listen to her.

“Or you can just go with me,” I say, tightening my hold on her hand when I remember that fucker Landon is one of their friends.

I should’ve really put him in a coma when I had the chance.

I stopped because people romanticize about anyone who’s hurt, and I wasn’t doing the motherfucker the favor.

“Eli will kill me if he finds out about this,” she mutters.

“Why?” I ask.

“I just let another guy carry her.” She throws her free hand in the air. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“He wouldn’t be able to lay a finger on you,” I say matter-of-factly.

She just releases a long breath, and I swear she’s about to smile but stops herself. “You guys are cut from the same cloth.”

When we reach her small car, she beeps it open, and Ilya gives me a glance because the car might as well be a tiny turtle’s nest.

I nod at him to put Ava at the back. As soon as Cecily makes sure her friend is all settled, she opts to drive, but Ilya is already sliding into the driver’s seat after a lot of bending.

When I join him in the front seat, it’s like I’m sitting in a damn toy car.

I have to bend my legs and head, despite pushing back the seat to its maximum capacity.

Cecily stares at us through the window and does a shit job at hiding her smile.

“Get in,” I order. “And this isn’t funny.”

“It actually is. You two would look adorable with one of Anni’s fluffy bandanas.”

“Cecily.”

“Fine, fine. You don’t have to order me around about everything, you know.” She shakes her head but then sits beside her friend and lays Ava’s head on her shoulder.

Thankfully their dorm isn’t far from the club, and we arrive before Ilya or I can get a muscle cramp.

Cecily starts to protest when Ilya carries Ava inside but soon drops it, knowing full well that she can’t do it herself.

I stay in the living room as he takes Ava to her room, with Cecily following behind.

Soon after, he reemerges, and she slams the door shut.

“Find those two from tonight. The one who was with Ava, too.”

He nods and heads out, closing the front door behind him.

I study the living room that Cecily spends some of her time in. Annika always talks about how Cecily and Glyndon want peaceful nights in, while she and Ava prefer to go out.

It’s simple, full of small stuffed rabbits and other animals that I’m sure isn’t her doing.

Her room speaks of her more than this shared space.

I make a swift check of the place in case of a security hazard, but I find nothing suspicious.

For now.

Fifteen minutes later, Cecily reemerges from Ava’s room, holding her heels in her hand and tiptoeing as she slowly closes the door.

I stalk behind her and whisper in her ear, “Why are you acting like a thief?”

She gasps and turns around so fast, she tumbles backward. I grab her by the elbow and steady her. Her shoes end up on the floor, though.

Her throat works with a swallow as she stares at me and whispers, “I thought you left.”

“I’m obviously still here,” I murmur back.

“I heard the front door open and close.”

Which is probably why she let her guard down. She might not be as oblivious to her surroundings as I previously thought.

“That was Ilya.” I lean closer. “How long are we supposed to keep whispering?”

She grabs my hand—no, it’s just my wrist—and drags me to her room, then closes the door. “You need to leave.”

“Why?”

“How the hell am I supposed to explain you to Ava? We’re not in a relationship.”

That’s the second fucking time she’s said that sentence tonight. The difference is that she doesn’t sound accusing now and is only stating facts.

“Do you want to be in a relationship?”

Her lips part the slightest bit, but that’s enough of a sign. “What?”

“You were jealous of Maya, and you apparently need a label to put your busy brain at ease. Will being in a relationship satisfy you?”

“What does being in a relationship with you mean, Jeremy? That you get to order me around, have me do your bidding while you continue to push me out? Because that’s called ownership, not a relationship, and I’m not a fan.”

“Watch that mouth.”

She releases a long breath, then speaks in a less strained tone. “A relationship means compromise, giving and taking, a partnership. It’s not an imbalance of power where you have the last word in everything and I’m along for the ride.”

“You love the ride.”

“Sexually, yeah, I do. I give you free rein to do whatever you please in that department. But not in the real world, Jeremy. I’m a human being with feelings, fears, and preferences. I’m also an independent person who cherishes her freedom. If you force me all the time, I’ll eventually close myself off from you. I don’t want that, and I’m sure you don’t want that either, right?”

I narrow my eyes on her.

She’s asking for something. What exactly, I don’t know.

“Say it.”

Her brow furrows. “Say what?”

“What you want.”

“I just want to know more about you. It’s unfair that you’re the only one who knows things about me.”

“You know everything there is to know.”

“Everything? You mean the fact that you study business, are the head of the Heathens, and a mafia heir? Those tell me nothing about your character.”

“You know about the bike, the cottage, and my sexual flavors.”

She relaxes a little, probably finally figuring out how she’s underestimating how much she knows me. Almost on the same level as my parents.

Hell, even they don’t know what I’m into.

She steps closer. “Have you always had this kink?”

“Since I hit puberty, yes.”

“When did you first act on it?”

“During that initiation when I was chasing you.”

Her face blushes. “You…never tried it before?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I didn’t trust anyone to do it with.”

“Does that mean you trust me?” She looks at me with big green eyes so full of hope and renewed affection.

No, she wants my affection.

She wants more from me.

Me.

That one baffles the fuck out of me. Why would she? The only thing I know how to give her is pleasure.

“Partially,” I say in answer to her question.

Her shoulders hunch and some of the brightness from before dims. “Why not fully?”

Because you called that motherfucker’s name during that first time.

And she refused to call mine earlier.

Not to mention that she’s begrudgingly into this, partly because I threatened her, partly because she can’t—and won’t—find anyone who satisfies her kink aside from me. Who touches her, fucks her, and pushes her buttons like I do.

But if she has the chance, I have no doubt she’ll bolt.

“It’s my turn to ask the questions.” I cross my arms. “What did that blond fucker do that caused you to zone out?”

She blinks at the jarring change of subject. “He didn’t do anything, but he said something too similar to what Jonah said when we first got together.”

“Who’s Jonah?” I ask, even though I know exactly who the fucker is.

“My scum of an ex,” she snarls at the mere mention of him.

That’s my girl.

“Was it too similar?” I ask.

“It was actually word for word.” She shudders. “It was creepy as hell.”

“Do you think they’re acquaintances?”

“I don’t know. I hope not.” A tinge of fear slips into her gaze. She’s scared that the reason behind her nightmares will come back into her life.

And I’ll get rid of it before it even gets close.

“I’m going to change my clothes,” she announces, and when I remain there, she adds, “that’s your cue to leave.”

“I will after you fall asleep.”

I can tell she wants to object, but she releases a sigh and goes on about her business.

I’ll wait for her to fall asleep and then I’ll find out exactly why the blond fucker and his friend approached Cecily tonight.