Kiss The Villain: Chapter 10

I’m having a sexuality crisis.

It’s messing with my head.

My fucking sanity.

I’ve shot more arrows than I can count since last night.

Hell, I barely recall what happened after my goddamn professor disappeared after he fucked my ass with his fingers and I liked it.

After he spanked me.

Then came all over me.

I could barely walk, but I made it to the security room where all accepted participants, those who made it without being eliminated, gathered.

No one did except for Cherry, because I paved the path for her. Niko also brought someone. I kid you not, it was Landon King’s twin brother, as in the leader of the Elites, the club at the neighboring posh British students’ university.

Naturally, Jeremy didn’t agree with his admission, and Brandon—Landon’s twin—didn’t seem interested anyway.

He was dead set on leaving more than anything, and he felt downright spooked and stunned when Nikolai had him on his lap.

I got kind of uncomfortable watching him squirming. It somehow brought up memories from my own fuckery.

But maybe Brandon was more ill at ease because his sister passed by. He had a mask on so she couldn’t have recognized him.

She joined the initiation as Kill’s new toy. We were only missing Landon to have fucking chaos on our hands.

Cherry, of course, didn’t miss a chance to rub herself all over Kill, and that started a little drama that I watched with detachment before I escorted Glyn out.

Maybe because I pity her for piquing my brother’s interest. I honestly don’t know.

That entire night was such a clusterfuck of epic proportions. I saw Jeremy cornering a girl in the forest, which I found odd, because he’s so stoic, he doesn’t really corner girls. They come to him of their own volition.

But the most interesting scene is the one I witnessed on my way back as I could barely walk.

Vaughn had a certain serpent slammed against a tree with his chain around his throat.

Yulian just laughed like a maniac as he was being choked. “Love it when you get rough, Mishka.”

Now, I don’t really know Russian that much, but I’m pretty sure Mishka is a pet name.

I was thinking of inviting Yulian, but I actually didn’t, because I wanted nothing to do with that fucker Kayden and I chose not to antagonize V for no reason.

No clue how he got in or why Vaughn was dragging him with his chain across the ground, but it was none of my business.

Pretty sure Vaughn didn’t even spend the night and left as soon as the initiation was over, though.

Me? I spent hours reviewing security footage. For some reason, Kill and Jeremy were doing the same, and I was on edge thinking they’d see me being finger-fucked by an asshole.

It was your asshole that was being fucked, though.

Very funny, demons.

But suspiciously, there was no trace of the motherfucker. I watched from all the angles, especially near that location, but it was as if it had been erased.

Maybe a hacker? It’d have to be a damn good one to be able to infiltrate our systems and get in without a QR code. Because I’ve seen footage of the people who lined up in front of our mansion, just in case, even if I didn’t think he’d mingle with students.

I was right.

He’s smarter than that and more resourceful than I thought. Because why the fuck would a normal college professor have such a high-rate hacker under his thumb?

Even his dad’s law firm is small and has little to no influence. Maybe a previous client?

It doesn’t really matter how he did it.

I run my hand through my hair as I lean against my desk chair and pull out my phone.

Supposedly, I need to study for the stupid assignment. I don’t usually put much effort into school, but this time, because it’s him, I want to make the best fucking opening statement in history.

I want him to be in awe and stop belittling me.

Though he didn’t do that last night.

I wonder why.

This whole thing is confusing. I hate confusing.

With a groan, I pull out my text exchange with my PI.

Was that too much? Probably.

Still searching for the fucks I have to give, though.

He lost all rights to his privacy the moment he touched me.

I lean back in my chair, rolling my phone in my hand and still feeling lost.

Lost and I don’t exist in the same universe, and yet I can’t help but think that gathering info about him won’t quite solve the big mystery.

The way I react to him.

So let’s take this logically.

I’ve been straight my entire almost twenty-two years of life. My first actual crush and loss was a girl.

I’ve never, and I mean never, looked at a guy and been like ‘Sick body, bro,’ ‘That’s a hot dick,’ or ‘I wonder what your cum tastes like.’ I barely notice shit about girls, let alone guys.

Closing my eyes, I picture tits, like Cherry’s or Morgan’s. Let’s go with Morgan—hers are bigger. Hmm. Is that hot? I guess?

I swear it used to do something to me. Round, full tits, soft and pliant in my hands, the perky nipples engorging beneath my touch…

Images of my own nipples being squeezed and bitten and pinched rush in. Instead of tits, it’s large, hard muscles with a snake tattoo⁠—

My eyes snap open and I groan as my dick twitches. You better not, bitch. I’m warning you.

This isn’t working. I seem to have lost my attraction to girls. I mean, not completely, but I’d still need to force myself into the mood to fuck—which is what I’ve been doing my whole life, really.

And I’m not attracted to men.

I need an experiment.

Unlocking my phone, I open a browser and type ‘gay porn.’

It’s beyond ridiculous, but I want to confirm I’m not having some sexuality crisis.

You totally are *giggles*

Shut up, demon.

After putting my earbuds in, I click one of the most viewed videos and watch.

First thought: the fake, corny sounds grate on my very last nerve.

So I click on something else. The fake noises make me want to reach into the screen and shake the fuck out of them.

I type ‘amateur’ and go from there. These are better, at least they’re not too fake and the noises aren’t grating, but they still do nothing for me. If anything, I’m angling my head and watching them with pure objectivity as if it’s an assignment.

If I were gay, I’d find this hot, right?

But I don’t. Actually, I’m bored.

That means I’m not gay.

End of the story.

In your face, demon.

Though straight porn does nothing for me either, but that’s not for here or now.

I’m about to close the browser when one of the guys on the screen starts fingering the other dude’s ass and I swallow. Not because of what’s on the screen, but because I’m seeing the image of that damn bastard behind me.

I close my eyes as my dick twitches back to life, throbbing as the sensations from last night play in my mind.

Motherfucker.

The porn video’s sound pauses, and I startle when a text pops up at the top of the screen. And it’s from none other than the asshole himself.

I close the porn screen as if he’s watching me or something and remove the earbuds.

I drop my hand from the corner of my mouth because I was about to eat the fucking skin around my thumb. Like a goddamn kid.

When I don’t reply, he sends another text.

I scoff at my phone, even if I find his words disturbing. It’s unsettling that he can read me so openly like a damn book. Not all that is true, but much of it is.

I’m about to curse him, but I hear heavy footsteps running down the hall and flip my phone upside down, then pretend to be focused on my homework. Even if my insides are ripping with rage.

A few seconds later, my door is shoved open and rattles against the wall. I look up, feigning surprise at the sight of Niko.

He’s wearing only jeans, putting his huge, extravagantly tattooed chest on display.

Before I went up to my room earlier, he was about to indulge in his insufferable acts of exhibitionism, so I speak in my usual calm voice. “Gee, thanks for the death scare. Please don’t tell me you’ll start stripping…?”

My cousin narrows his eyes as he walks toward me. The motherfucker has mood swings worse than politicians, and I don’t want to see him naked.

“Don’t you dare, Niko, or I swear I’ll tell Aunt Rai about your annoying habits⁠—”

“Have you ever been attracted to men?”

I pause.

Did he see something last night?

No, that’s not possible. He’s not subtle, so if he did, he would’ve advertised it in The New York Times.

I let my pen fall on the notebook and exaggerate an exhale. “What are you talking about?”

“You’ve always fucked women, but have you done that because you feel you have to due to peer pressure and what’s defined by society as normal or because you want to?”

The fuck is he getting at? Did that motherfucker Kayden talk to him or something?

I wouldn’t put it past him. He does seem like he loves to mess with his victims.

Is that what I am? A fucking victim? Me, Gareth Carson?

He also called me a toy.

Me. A toy.

“What is this about?” I stand up, tension crowding my shoulders. “What did you hear?”

“What should I have heard?”

Fuck. I can’t believe I let that slip.

Even Niko, who’s usually oblivious to cues, immediately picks up on it. He steps so close to me that he almost touches me, and even though he’s my cousin and we grew up together like brothers, I still don’t like to be touched.

Didn’t seem like you hated it last night.

The prick demon is begging to be killed.

“So?” Niko peers down on me. “What? Tell me. Tell me! What should I have heard?”

I shove him away. “Stop doing that shit.”

“Not until you answer my question.”

I palm my face. “I love women. Happy?”

“What about men?”

“I…don’t know. Could be.” I can’t believe I’m admitting this out loud. I don’t even believe it myself, but I want to talk to someone about it—even cryptically.

Niko came out as bi over four years ago and he’s the happiest goddamn queer I know.

I don’t care about others’ sexuality, and, really, Niko has the most adventures among us.

But me? Gay? No way in hell. It’s not actually about being gay. I’m open to that idea, but I’ll never be fucked.

Not in this lifetime.

Could I do the fucking, though?

I think that’s okay, right?

I clear my throat, chasing away the cloud of confusion. “Why are you probing?”

His eyes spark in a rare thoughtful gleam. “I’m testing something. When did you discover you like men?”

“I don’t like men. Jesus.” I hurry to the door, knowing Kill could be listening, and then close it.

Niko is poor at connecting patterns; my brother isn’t. He’d definitely get involved if he knew about Kayden, and they would clash.

Maybe kill each other.

And this isn’t any of my brother’s business.

I need to learn more about Kayden and then destroy him. Maybe after that, I’ll let Kill take care of the scraps.

Facing Niko, I lean against the door, my arms and ankles crossed. “I’m not sure. I don’t know. I love fucking women, but…” A certain man always makes me come like I never have before.

“But what?” He stalks toward me, then tilts his head to the side as he looks at me with those wide manic eyes. “What changed your mind?”

“I didn’t change my mind and, seriously, stop looking so intense. It’s creepy.”

“Blah fucking blah, just tell me what made your straight ass sway on the line. Figuratively, of course. Or is it literally?”

“Fuck you, asshole,” I mutter, then close my eyes.

Maybe it’s because the last couple of weeks have been weighing on me or because I can’t just keep it all to myself, but I say, “If you tell anyone about this, especially Kill, I’ll murder you.”

“I won’t if you just fess up. What made you change lanes?”

“I’m not sure I did—or would, for that matter. It’s just…one person. That’s it.”

Fuck me.

Is that even a thing? Finding one man attractive?

There must be others.

There has to be others.

Because there’s no way in hell the one man is Kayden motherfucking Lockwood.

Niko ruffles my hair. “Aw, welcome to the club. You top or bottom? Verse?”

“Just shut it, Niko.”

“You give bottom vibes.”

“Why the fuck would you think that?” I’m genuinely offended. Why is he so sure I bottom? Me? Being fucked.

Impossible.

“Because you don’t take a lot of initiative, cousin, and you’re such a prince. Though maybe you could be verse? Dunno. It depends. Experiment a lot and you’ll find out which position works best for you. Though I knew from the get-go that I love fucking, not the other way around. But people are different. Some know straight away—or gay away, see what I did there?—while others use trial and error.”

I’m deeply uncomfortable with this talk, but I still ask, “What does trial and error even mean?”

“A number of things. Like bottoming and hating it. Or topping and being ill at ease. Some people like switching it up, which means topping and bottoming. Some people hate those terms altogether. It depends on the person. You’re usually the top if you like fucking and being in control, though there are power bottoms who take control but don’t do the fucking. If you love being pounded or come by prostate fucking without dick stimulation, you’re usually a bottom.”

My ears heat. No way in fuck. “Who the fuck came up with these rules?”

“No one really. And there are no rules. Everyone is different. I’m speaking generally and in terms some might agree with yet others wouldn’t. Anyway, I’ll give you a free course on butt stuff. Lesson one, always have lube on you, like always. And prep yourself. Start with small butt plugs, then scale up. You’ll thank me later⁠—”

“Okay, I’ve heard enough. Get the fuck out.” I push him out, then slam the door shut.

I bite on my thumb as I let out a long groan. There’s no way in fuck I’m gay, let alone the one being fucked.

I do the fucking. Next time I see Kayden, I’m taking the upper hand.

Not that I look forward to that.

Absolutely not.