Marked: A Dark College MM Romance Novella Primal Play (The Wicked Chase Book 4) by Lola Malone

Author:Lola Malone [Malone, Lola]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-09-12T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 6

EDOUARD

Romain was mine for two years and five months.

Oh, how we fought each other those first months—his pride and reluctance was the ambrosia I never thought I needed. Even chained to my bed, he’d do anything to disobey me like the untrained pet he was, though that was only at first. I was a popular guy from a powerful family, with friends aplenty. Manuel proposed finishing him off many times and gifting me with someone else, someone more willing. But training Romain was the most exciting, time-consuming yet gratifying challenge I’d ever had.

Those first weeks his leash around my bed pillar didn’t give more than two meters. He had to ask permission to use the bathroom—something he eventually, politely did despite his clenched jaw and fuming glare. I often left him alone, stewing in my room while I’d go downstairs and have lunch or dinner with my family. Every night, I let him go home, because I couldn’t bring myself to disrespect his wish to stay with his piece of shit mother.

And every morning he was back. Countless times I thought that this time I had crossed a line and he wouldn’t be back. He always was, while knowing that I would tie him up to my bed and let him sit there by himself until Manuel would take him to school. The truth was I wasn’t sure what to do with him. Oh, I knew what I wanted to do with him already, but I wanted him to come crawling and beg me for it. Wanted him to rub his face against my thigh like he had done that very first time, and surrender.

It took me four months before he finally did that again.

It was late spring, a Saturday night, and the day had been hot and dry. After the sun had set and the wind had picked up, we finally had some time to cool off. Romain had been in my room the entire day. He refused to wear the clothes I gave him, so instead he’d knelt on my floor wearing his usual tattered jeans and Nike hoodie, the fabric covering most of his dark hair and light features. He sat glaring at the floor when I came in after dinner. He’d finished his own meal, judging by the empty plate, which was another improvement. When he heard me come in, he looked up, and the whiff of a breath caught in my throat when he stared right at me with those piercing eyes. Proud, angry, with a subtle touch of insecurity.

Despite it all, he wanted to be here. I could just fucking feel it.

By his side, he’d left his homework discarded, the pages folded and begging for my gaze to give it a thorough sweep.

“Did you finish?” I asked. He shrugged, grunting, meaning “no”. Approaching, I took a look at the books. It was English. We both sucked at modern languages, but he needed the grade to pass the year. I needed him to pass the year.

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