by R Holmes
"Rhys, my dress. Oh, God!" I cry out. My dress is short just standing. Everyone is probably getting a front-row seat to a showing of my ass.
I feel his hand tug at the material hugging my ass, covering me up.
"Put me down!" I hiss.
"Not in the mood, Valentina. Quiet."
He doesn't answer, just continues out of the house through the crowd of people outside. Thankfully, we seem to be leaving and are no longer surrounded by basically every classmate we have. I might actually die of embarrassment.
When we finally reach our destination, I see it's a black Mustang with blacked-out windows. Instead of putting me down, he slaps my ass, hard.
“Rhys, what the fuck was that for?” I hiss. My cheeks on fire.
“For that fucking mouth.”
He sets me on my feet, and with the heels and the sudden punch to my equilibrium, I falter slightly. His hands reach out and grip onto my waist to steady me.
"Why did you just… spank me?"
"You wanted to cause a scene bitchin' like that, so I figured I'd cause one. Get in the car."
He walks around to the passenger side and opens the door.
"In."
"You're an asshole. I'm not getting in this car with you." I cross my arms over my chest in defiance, and the fact that it's twenty degrees outside and I'm in a strapless dress… I'm so cold my nipples could cut glass. It doesn't help the situation that Rhys seems to take notice of it.
"Valentina, do you really want to try me? I don't know what you think this is, but let's not do this. Get in the fucking car."
"I hate you," I sneer.
"Great. Now get in the fucking car before you freeze to death in that." He raises his eyebrows offering me a look of disdain.
I stomp over to the passenger side and get in the car. I'm thankful for the reprieve from the cold, but not the fact that he's once again taken control of the situation to suit himself and commanded me, expecting me to listen.
He walks around to the driver's side and gets in, slamming the door behind him. After making sure I have a seat belt on, he starts the car and pulls out onto the road. He clutches the wheel so tight, even in the dark I can see his knuckles are white. Obviously, whatever has set him off is not going to resolve itself anytime soon.
We drive in silence. It's dark outside with only the moonlight and sporadic street lamp to light the way, but I gaze out the window, refusing to talk to him. Not that he tries. He keeps his eyes on the road and his ironclad grip on the steering wheel. I see the back gates of St. Augustine come into view and we pull in. He parks in the faculty parking lot and shuts off the car. Without a word, he gets out and comes around to my door, opening it. I get out and go to stomp around him, when he stops me with his hand on the back of my neck. It sends a shiver down my spine. He's so infuriating. But his touch is also possessive and sets fire to my body. The traitor it is.
"Wait," he says, and shrugs his jacket off, then puts it over my shoulders. "Can't for the life of me figure out why girls dress like we don't live where there’s a fucking blizzard. Next time, bring a jacket, Valentina."
"Whatever."
I follow behind him as we walk toward the chapel. Once we arrive at the massive chapel, he pulls a faculty key from his pocket and opens the door. I notice for the second time tonight that he's used something from the faculty.
"Where do you get faculty access?" I ask. He ignores my question and walks past me into the chapel. The building is freezing. It's so quiet, you could hear a pin drop. I've never been inside a church at night but it's so still, it's eerie.
"This is creepy, Rhys." I whisper, jogging over to him before he can leave me in the dark. He walks over to the side of the chapel and turns on the heater, then goes back to lock the door we just came in through.
"This is like the scene of every horror movie, where the girl in heels gets killed."
"Good thing I'm here."
"Great, and you might be the serial killer. Jury's out on that one."
He rolls his eyes and leaves me standing there and walks toward the altar.
"You know the history of St. Augustine?" he asks. He walks up to the altar and gazes up at the huge stained glass windows.
"The school or the saint?"
"School."
I sit down across from the altar in one of the wooden pews. Church isn't something new to me. I find myself drawn to religion, ever since I was a small child. It was the notion of the unknown most people can't seem to grasp. Like most supernatural beings, they can't see it so they can't possibly believe it actually exists. People want to feel something tangible to believe in its power. It was the notion of the unknown most people can't seem to grasp. Like most supernatural beings, they can't see it so they can't possibly believe it exists.
"St. Augustine Catholic Academy was founded in the late eighteen-hundreds by the founding families of St. Augustine. The original families came together and formed their own way here. They wanted a place for lost teenagers who had fallen from grace, strayed from the church. Thinking for yourself wasn't much of a thing back then, but there were the few who went wayward."
He pauses, and then drops down to sit on the stairs. I can't read his face in the dim light, but the air around us feels strange. An intimacy I've never felt while in his presence. While we are sitting ten feet apart, there is still something between us that is palpable. It is undeniable, yet we spend all of the time around each other fighting whatever it is. We lie to each other and we lie to ourselves. I could pretend all day what I feel for Rhys Blackwood is hate. But the truth is, hate is the same emotion as love and we walk the line that was never meant to hold the weight of the both of us.
"Over the years, it grew to this. More buildings for the youth, more outlets for the creativity they couldn't hold. But no matter what, they always stayed true to their Catholicism. If these walls could talk, they’d have stories to span lifetimes."
I pull my gaze from Rhys and look around the immense chapel. Its concrete walls are cracked in places, and worn in others. Even as old as it is, it stands tall and prideful. A building with so much to say but no way to express it.
"Valentina."
My eyes drag back to Rhys, and he lifts his chin, beckoning me over to him. I go to him without hesitation, and I don't bother to try and rationalize it. We're past the point of lying to ourselves. I think.
I drop down next to him, ungracefully in the sky-high heels and short dress that gave me so much power earlier in the night. Now, I just feel silly for wearing something so revealing and unlike me. Who was I wearing it for?
Rhys’s eyes slowly peruse me in a heated slither down my body, and I know it was for him. Even if I didn't realize it at the time, I subconsciously wore this hoping he would show up to appreciate it.
"You drive me insane," he whispers to himself. I'm not sure if he meant for me to hear his revelation, but I did. I understand exactly where his words are coming from since I spend most of my waking day trying to make sense of the war we're caught in together.
Our gazes lock together but neither of us say a word. We sit in tormented silence, inches apart. There's no need for words at this moment, the current running through the air between us is electrified. The thread of uncertainty divides us, keeping us on each of our respective sides. Until I watch as his pupils dilate and he closes the distance between us so quickly we collide together.
"Fuck it."
Two syllables. A surrender in a fight he was never going to win.
We come together in a vicarious frenzy when his mouth captures mine in a kiss. He's not gentle and he doesn't handle me like a precious, breakable gem. He's rough, unheeded. His kiss is cruel and unyielding, but it's him. It's made up of all the parts that make Rhys Blackwood who he is. Rough, almost violent, yet in the most gentle way. His hands find my waist and lift me until I'm seated in his lap, and then he kisses a scorching path down the column of my throat. His teeth nip at the sensitive skin, causing me to moan against his to
uch.
"This is fucking wild, little lamb. How can I hate you so much, but love your body like it was crafted by God himself… just to sin with me?" he whispers against my skin. His breath feels like fire against my skin. Everything he touches turns molten and I'm wanton for the pleasure only he can bring me.
A knot forms in my stomach at the thought, that only Rhys Blackwood brings me pleasure.
It gives him power he doesn't need or deserve.
"This fucking dress," he hisses before sucking at the skin on the swell of my breasts. His hands run up my waist to cup them in his hands and push them together as he licks, sucks, and bites.
"I wore it for you." I give him a sultry smile.
"Siren. It’s your birthday, yet I’m the one getting presents."
Putting a hand on my lower back, he flips us over to put me beneath him, and settles between my legs. Instead of coming over me, he begins to pull my dress up around my waist.
"Rhys, we cannot do this here," I hiss, my eyes scanning the chapel to make sure we're still alone.
"Quiet, Valentina." His voice is steel and it shuts me right up.
He's still the one with power over me, regardless of whether it's a video or the way he plays my body like the finest instrument in my demise. Once my dress is bunched at my hips and I'm in nothing but a black lace thong, he leans back on his haunches to drink me in. He runs his finger along the slit of my pussy through the lace and I shiver in response. My body acts on its own accord. Torturously, he begins kissing up my inner thighs. So slow I may lose my mind. My hands thread into his dark hair and I grip, hard, causing him to look up at me.
"Is my little lamb impatient tonight?"
Taunting me, as always. "Can we skip this and get straight to the part where I come on your face?" I feel bolder than normal in my outfit, in this forbidden place. Something about it makes me wanton.
He lifts his hand and renders a quick slap to my pussy. His palm grazing my clit in the process. It's the most erotic thing I've ever seen and if I wasn't wet for him before, I'm dripping now.
"Quiet," he says again.
For once, I don't want to fight back. I want Rhys Blackwood like never before.
Valentina is laid out in front of me on the floor of the altar with her dress bunched around her hips and her pussy hidden by only a small scrap of lace. A piece of lace soaking wet with her juices, and I want nothing more than to devour her like the depraved man I am. Ironic to say the least.
Little lamb to be sacrificed on the altar. To St. Augustine's fallen angel. Right now, the title has never fit me more. It’s a title I’ll gladly own.
Except ruining Valentina is the furthest thing from my mind right now. Instead, I'm dizzy with lust. I can't remember the last time I wanted anything—anyone—the way I want her. And I know I shouldn't. I should walk away, and never look back. Go visit Ezra in jail as a reminder of why I hate her so goddamn badly, but I can't keep her out of my head or my hands off her body.
Tonight is a turning point in this cat and mouse game we've been partaking in. Seeing that fucker’s hands on her body caused me to lose control. I never intended to find her after she stood me up tonight. But, when I walked into the party and saw his hands on her, all rational thought went out the window. That's how I found myself here, in this chapel with her spread out in front of me.
She squirms beneath me impatiently. I've only begun to bring her to the edge, just to steal her release from her. I want her wild beneath me, begging me like the good little slut I know she can be. I bring my fingers back to the soaked lace at her core, rubbing her clit through the fabric of her panties. A breathy sigh falls from her crimson lips. The way she pulls her lower lip between her teeth makes the small amount of restraint I have left dissolve.
For the first time in my life, I want to lose control. Cut the tightly tethered ropes that have been holding me captive for so long. Uncaring of the consequences for my lapse in sanity. Completely immersed in something that made me feel good. Even if only for a moment.
Looping my finger in the waistband of the scrap of lace scarcely covering her, I drag them down her body and pocket them.
"You can have these back if you can keep quiet, little lamb."
With her completely bare in front of me, I don't waste another second before leaning down and spreading her pussy with my fingers, then sucking her throbbing clit into my mouth. Her back arches off the altar, closer to my mouth, and her tiny hands thread into my hair. Beneath me she's truly breakable, but in whatever fucked-up way this is, she puts her trust in me. She gives me tiny parts of herself no one else has seen and I should cherish it.
But I can't. I can't be the man who handles Valentina like porcelain in my hands. I'll be the man who fucks her like she's never been fucked, the man who touches her body in ways that even once I'm gone, no one will be able to give her the same amount of pleasure she felt while I was with her. I'll be the man who ruins her and leaves nothing but the wreckage of bones and flesh behind.
She'll hate me for it. She'll wish I never walked into her life set on destroying her. She'll wish she never stole a secret that was never hers to have.
I dip my tongue into her wetness, savoring the taste of her on my tongue. Just in case it's the last time I allow myself to be weak. I eat her until her thighs lock around my ears, holding me tightly in place. Instead of giving her the release she's chasing, I sit up. Her cheeks are flushed red, her chest heaves with desire. She looks so fucking beautiful.
"Rhys…" Her voice is raw with need. Her eyes plead with me, but her pride is too much to allow the words to tumble from her lips.
"Beg for it, Valentina," I tell her.
There's hesitation in her eyes. She doesn't trust me. She shouldn't. If she did, the darkness living inside of me would pull her under too.
I run my finger along the seam of her pussy, dipping until I slide inside of her and rub against the sweet spot that will have her falling apart.
"Beg. For. It. Beg me to let you come." I say as I lazily fuck her with my finger. I add another and hook upward, stroking her G spot. In a matter of seconds I could have her coming, but until she submits, she won't.
"Rhys, please."
Closer.
"Rhys, please… what, Valentina?"
I lean down and swipe my tongue along her clit once, then twice, until I feel her quiver. So close. She tightens around my fingers as I stroke her over and over, increasing the pace of my fingers as I fuck her.
"Please let me come. Please!" she cries.
That's it. Bending down, I suck her clit into my mouth so hard, I feel her come around my fingers. Her pussy tightens and contracts and she comes, crying out, moaning my name so loud it echoes around the walls of the chapel in a haunting melody. Never has there been a sweeter sound in the fucking world than hearing Valentina Carmichael beg for her orgasm, then moan my name so loud it bounces from the church's walls.
I pull my fingers from her as her eyes meet mine, full of lust and the orgasm I just gave her, then suck them into my mouth, tasting her on my fingers. Her already heavy lidded eyes darken. We sit in comfortable silence until she recovers fully and pulls down her dress.
"What are we doing, Rhys?" she asks quietly.
I mull over her words, what they mean for us, for me. I don't have the answers for her. Fuck, I don't even know what I'm doing with Valentina anymore.
"Hating each other in the only way we know how."
After walking her back to her dorm and leaving before I could do something stupid like speak after the monumental shift in whatever the fuck is happening between us, I walk back to the dorm and find Sebastian and Alec on the Xbox in the living room.
"Yo, fuckhead. Where ya been?" Alec asks, never looking up from the screen.
"Out. What happened to the party?"
Sebastian shakes his head. "Drama. Mara and the bitches are on one tonight. Didn't feel like dealing with it."
I walk over to the fridge and pull out a Powerade from
the top shelf before twisting the top off and taking a long gulp. Just as I'm about to join Bash and Alec on the couch, my phone starts to ring in my pocket. Pulling it out, I see a number on the screen I don't recognize.
I swipe the bar and answer, "Hello?"
"Rhys? It's Ez."
Fucking Ezra, Jesus.
"Ezra, what the fuck, we've been waiting two weeks to hear from you. What the fuck is going on?"
Sebastian and Alec overhear me say his name and immediately drop the controllers and hop over the back of the couch. I put the call on speaker, placing the phone on the kitchen table between us.
"I'm fine. Been through worse shit than some time in the pen." He laughs lightly. Only he could make light of a situation like this with his fucked-up humor.
"They've been keeping me in solitary… said my safety was at risk in general pop. Listen, I don't have long." He pauses before clearing his throat. "The line isn't clear, I have to be careful with what I'm saying. I know my dad isn't coming. I figured the shit out after two weeks, but listen, don't trust anyone. I don't know what the fuck is going on, but this shit runs deeper than you know. I can't explain, and I don't know for sure what's going on, but just… don't trust anyone, okay? Do you hear me? Nobody."
"Ez, we know who snitched. We've known since the day you got arrested," Alec chimes in.
"Yeah, Rhys’s fuck toy, Valentina Carmichael," Sebastian scoffs. I want to punch him in the dick, but before I can, Ezra speaks up.
"What? No, it wasn't Carmichael. There was someone else in the library that night, that's what I'm trying to tell you. No one can be trusted. I'll explain everything when I can, just fucking lay low. Hopefully, I'll be out of here soon and we're going to figure out what the fuck is going on."
“What? What do you mean it wasn’t Valentina?” I say, shocked.
“It wasn’t Carmichael. I can’t talk about this right now because they record these conversations, and what I have to tell you can’t be overheard. But it wasn’t her. Look, I need you to trust me. You know I would never leave any of you in the dark, just trust me.”
