Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 66062 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 330(@200wpm)___ 264(@250wpm)___ 220(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66062 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 330(@200wpm)___ 264(@250wpm)___ 220(@300wpm)
He had to get out of here. It wasn’t healthy in the least that his existence revolved around an emotionally unavailable man who owned him so utterly Aiden sometimes couldn’t even remember his own name. These past few months had passed in a haze of god-tier sex and pleasure, followed by lonely hours of lucidity as Aiden freaked out over how utterly pathetic this existence was.
He was basically a glorified sex doll kept under lock and key that Zain used only when he felt the urge to scratch the itch. As soon as Zain pulled out of him, he became a hard-eyed, distant stranger.
Aiden knew that this… relationship, if it even could be called that, bothered Zain even more than it bothered him. Every few weeks, Zain seemed to make an attempt to stay away from him and avoided him like the plague. Every time, that distance eventually ended with some hard, angry sex and Zain was back in his bed for a few weeks before the cycle repeated itself.
“I hate you,” Aiden whispered into Zain’s pillow, burying his face in it and hugging it hard.
He was almost glad that Zain was such a dick. How much worse would this have been if Zain hadn’t kept him at arm’s length?
Breathing in Zain’s scent, Aiden eventually drifted off.
Interlude I
Zain strode into the house, anger and frustration quickening his steps. Seeing his father rarely put him in a good mood, but that family dinner had been more frustrating than usual.
Gadiel had been sulking all evening, refusing to talk to any of them. Omar was of no use, despite being the crown prince—his attitude in life was to be as agreeable and obedient around their father as possible, so he never interfered, even though Zain suspected that he was aware of their youngest brother’s inclinations. Zain had had to be the one to deflect their father’s attention—and criticism—toward himself before the brat gave himself away and managed to get himself killed.
Unfortunately, Zain wasn’t much better at reining his temper in where their father was concerned.
Sheikh Mustafa ibn Mohammed Al Rahim wasn’t an easy man, never had been. Some fathers—some other fathers—might have been proud that their son was a highly respected businessman with a fortune that far exceeded their own. Not Mustafa. A control freak like him didn’t like how little control he had over Zain’s life. If Mustafa had his way, Zain would have already been married to Al Sharabi’s daughter.
Zain’s lips thinned, a twinge of guilt twisting his stomach as it did every time he was reminded that Gadiel’s bride had been supposed to be his. Zain was the one Mustafa had wanted to offer for Sheikh Al Sharabi’s daughter. His father hadn’t exactly been happy when Zain had point-blank refused to marry the girl. He had no desire to marry someone chosen by his father, a girl thirteen years his junior.
You have no issue fucking a boy eleven years your junior.
Zain’s jaw tightened, his mood taking a turn for the worse as he quickened his steps.
The boy was… He didn’t count. He was just a convenient hole to use. Nothing more. Nothing.
Zain came to a sudden halt, realizing where his feet had brought him.
He was standing in front of Aiden’s room, not his own.
He stared at the door in frustration, but he couldn’t bring himself to turn away. This was where his body wanted to be after that clusterfuck of an evening. This was what his body itched for—to bury itself in Aiden’s sweet body and soft, eager mouth and forget all the problems and frustrations of the evening.
It was useless fighting this. He would only end up tossing and turning in his bed if he denied himself this. He could walk away. But why should he? Aiden was his.
Zain pushed the door open.
The room was empty.
His heart beating faster, Zain scanned the room with his eyes. Where would he be at this hour?
Quashing the irrational urge to wake up all of his employees and force them to find Aiden for him, Zain turned and headed to his room. He’d probably fallen asleep in another room. Nothing to worry about. Zain didn’t need to see him tonight. He was in control of himself. His cock didn’t control him.
Zain approached his bedroom—the door was already open—and went still.
Aiden was sleeping in his bed.
After a moment, Zain closed the door, slowly walked forward, and stopped by Aiden’s side.
The boy was stretched out on his stomach, his arm hugging the pillow. He was only wearing a pair of shorts, which wasn’t surprising. He constantly complained about the heat, unused to the local climate. His cheek was slightly pink—he must have been spending too much time outside again. His long eyelashes fluttered against the pale, fragile skin below his eyes. His lips were parted, a little wet and soft-looking.