Kylie Bray (Love, Hate and Billions)

Chapter 32 (Kylie)

At this second, with Vincent's hands around my neck, his throbbing cock against my stomach, I see the

foolish waste of thoughts. I learn the meaningless words of promises.

In the front of B-Street downtown Seattle, I, Kylie Bray watch the man that I am destined to love

forever, come alive with the idea of killing me. Content © copyrighted by NôvelDrama.Org.

And even though I am with Storm, time can't heal wounds.

My voice, finally given back to me as he releases his fingers from around my neck, twisting it through

my hair.

For once, the words I need to say, the questions in my mind, come out, as I ask, “What is it that draws

me to you, why can't I say no, what is this?”

His grip on my hair tightens as he slays me with just one word, “Obsession.”

Breathing becomes difficult as his eyes stare so deeply into my own. I have dreamed of this night for so

long. I have imagined how his hands would feel touching me. I have wanted Vincent to look at me the

way he is looking at me now, with proprietorial lust.

My vision blurs with ecstasy, but still, I question,

“What happens when one obtains its obsession.”

I already know I am obsessed with him, and hearing him murmur those words undoes me. It makes

everything true.

His deep intoxicated voice utters my undoing, “Addiction.”

But what he does next shatters me. His skillful mouth crashes against mine.

Our tongues dance in languid yet purposeful moves. As my body burns with unadulterated lust of finally

tasting what it has been wanting since Vincent came back into my life all those months ago.

He dominates my mouth, using my hair as leverage to lock me in. I succumb to my desire that is him.

Relishing in the feel of his painful hold in my hair, while he lures me in with his masculine scent. This is

the moment I have wanted, now that it's here I never want it to end.

I feed my addiction, maintaining my obsession, not knowing that he will also become my ultimate

DESTRUCTION.

That night, in front of prying eyes outside B-Street Vincent Stone, kissed me for the first time. When I

think of that night, I think of the softness of his lips, the caress of his tongue. I think of his body and my

body touching as my nipples hardened and my sex clenched with a blissful desire to have him

completely mine. I remember thinking all these thoughts, forgetting who he was, forgetting why I was

there in the first place. That night Vincent Stone became more than just an if, more than just a one-

sided story. Was it everything I imagined? No, it was so much better.

It was a while after that when I saw him again.

The clubhouse is not a place I want to be picking David's son up from. But it's the only time little Aron

gets to see Kevin, my older brother aka Killer, aargh.

I'm not judging, I'm seriously not, okay, maybe just a little. There's a lot of names in the dictionary to

use that mean killer, why use the actual thing. Come on.

I shake my head at my wayward thoughts and check my recently green sparkled nail polish, Ivy crush.

It's wicked.

The kitchen door opens with a bang and a scarred grim reaper walks out with a limp female in his

arms, bride style. Her hair is like a black curtain of strands, a lot like mine except, well it's not. That's

dead hair. Something I'm so fixing.

“What shiny new toy does the big bad beast have there?” I drawl my words lazily.

I used to do it to piss my mama off. Over the years she made it her personal mission in ‘assisting’ me

to ditch the glitch or famously known as the ‘Kylie twang.’ She was of course successful but every now

and then it comes out to play.

What can I say, I'm a Bray.