With my attention focused solely on him, I don’t immediately realize there’s a girl nestled on his lap. My breath becomes wedged in my throat when she tosses her head back. Long blond hair cascades around her shoulders as it catches the firelight.
Sloane.
Of course it would be her.
Bitterness gathers inside me, which makes no sense. My feelings for this boy should have been extinguished. It’s disconcerting to realize that they aren’t. That it’s possible for him to lash out and hurt me.
Even though the evening has plunged into the low sixties, a thin T-shirt clings to Sloane’s curvy breasts as her long, sun-kissed legs peak out from tiny shorts. As if to drive the knife in deeper, she burrows against the wide expanse of his chest before slipping her arms around his neck.
The pain that explodes in my heart feels as excruciating as a gunshot wound. I know precisely what it’s like to be so close to him that you feel as if you are one. If I squeeze my eyes tight, the scent of his woodsy cologne would wrap around me, shielding me from the world.
Only now, he’s the one I need protection from.
That thought is enough to snap me out of the trance that had fallen over me. It’s carefully that I retreat from the railing. When the connection between us is finally severed and the party below disappears, I step inside the bedroom, shuttering myself away. After locking the balcony door, I sag against it and wonder how I’ll ever survive this.
Chapter Sixteen
My eyelids fly open as a heavy weight settles on top of me. With a gasp, I stare into narrowed eyes that are inches from my own. It’s enough to send the breath rushing from my lungs.
Kingsley.
My palms flatten against the sinewy strength of his naked chest as I attempt to push him away. No matter how hard I shove, he doesn’t budge. Kingsley outweighs me by a solid hundred pounds. It’s like trying to move a brick wall. Frustration bubbles up at my own powerlessness, and I ball my hands, pummeling his chest, wanting to inflict as much damage on to him as he so easily does to me.
His lips curve into a smirk at my feeble attack. In the blink of an eye, he shackles my wrists with his fingers and drags them above my head before pinning them near the tufted headboard.
“Get off!” I growl, attempting to buck him from my body, even though I know deep down that it’s not possible.
“What’s wrong, baby girl?” He lowers his face to mine until he can nip at the curve of my jawline. His mouth grazes my cheekbone before settling at my ear. “You don’t want me anymore?”
“No!” There’s a hitch in my voice I’m unable to disguise.
“Liar.” Even though I can’t see the curve of his lips, smugness weaves its way through his voice.
“Why are you here?”
“Isn’t that obvious?” There’s a pause. “You belong to me and I’m taking what’s mine.”
A thick shudder works its way through my body. Whether it’s from fear or longing, I don’t know and I’m too chickenshit to find out. Deep down, I’m frightened of the truth. Then I’ll have no choice but to admit that I still want him. “Go fuck Sloane,” I hiss.
He laughs and the deep timbre of it grates against my core, unintentionally setting off a million little sparks. “That sounds suspiciously like jealousy.”
“Don’t flatter yourself.” He’s right, damn him. Not only do I hate myself for not being able to hide it better, but him for needing to point it out.
“Is that so?” Challenge fills his voice and only then do I realize my misstep. “Maybe I should prove what a little liar you are.”
I press my lips together, refusing to get drawn into his insidious games. He’s proven time and time again that I’m no match for him. Kingsley always wins at all costs. He won’t be satisfied until he completely obliterates me. In my weakened state, it won’t take much.
When I remain silent, he yanks my wrists together. His fingers are long enough to secure both with one hand to free up the other. The knowledge of what is sure to come is enough to renew my struggles.
In a matter of weeks, his touch has become an addiction. One stroke of his lips or fingers across my flesh and I lose all sense of reason. It's demoralizing to realize that as much as I want to hate him for everything that has happened between us, between our families, I’m not there yet.
Will I ever be?
Calloused fingers shove at the soft cotton T-shirt I wore to bed. The fabric slides up my belly, ribcage, and over my chest until I’m exposed to his searching gaze. A steady stream of moonlight floods into the space, illuminating our bodies in a silvery glow.
His nimble fingers zero in on one breast, tweaking the nipple until it stiffens beneath his relentless touch. Tiny sparks of arousal burst to life. My body is like dry kindling. It won’t take much for it to catch fire. If he keeps this up, it’ll only be a matter of time before I go up in a blaze of glory.
And Kingsley understands this. It’s that knowledge that spurs me into action and I squirm beneath him, attempting to evade his intimate touch. My teeth sink into my lower lip, wanting to keep the guttural sounds buried deep inside my chest.
There is nothing I can do to stop him from taking what he wants, but I refuse to give him anything more than that. I’ll be damned if he sees exactly how much he’s still able to affect me. When it comes to Kingsley, my body has always been traitorous. No matter what happens between us, I can’t stop from wanting him. It’s disconcerting to realize that might never change. That I will always be held captive by this boy.
When I refuse to give him the reaction he seeks, a growl rumbles up from deep within his throat as he pinches one of the tiny buds. Unable to stand the pain-infused-pleasure he’s forcing upon me, a whimper escapes.
Why does it have to be like this between us?
A combustible energy impossible to extinguish.
Kingsley’s face drops to my chest. With the tip of his nose, he circles the stiffened peak before drawing it deep into his mouth. The sharp tugs send ripples of ecstasy through my body, making my core throb with need. I can’t help but shift impatiently beneath him as my hips roll against his. With a painful jerk of his lips, he releases my nipple with a soft pop before his fingers pluck at the other.
I want to scream as pleasure unfurls inside me. All he’s done is toy with my breasts and already I’m on the verge of losing it. Over the last month, Kingsley has gone to great lengths to learn my body. He knows exactly what to do to stoke the flames. And I was so free with my responses, loving everything he did. Not once did it occur to me that he might turn around and use this information against me. I would have guarded my reactions better.
“Kingsley...”
“Mmmm.” His teeth flash in the moonlight. “You know how much I love it when you beg for my dick.”
Oh God...
“No.” My head twists from side to side, wishing I could take it back. “I’m not—”
“Are you sure about that?” A knowing chuckle slides from his lips. “The needy little noises you’re making sound an awful lot like pleading to me. It’s been much too long since I filled your mouth and pussy.” His fingers wrap around the stiff little bud he’s been toying with before giving it a vicious pinch.
Another burst of pleasure-spiked-pain reverberates through me, forcing me closer to the edge.
“Do you miss my cock, baby girl?”
“No.”
Liar.
With his gaze locked on mine, a wicked smile curls around the edges of his lips before he repeatedly nips at my breast. It doesn’t take long until I’m squirming and whimpering beneath him. Desire pulses through me like that of a steady drumbeat. When I can’t stand another moment, he sucks the tortured tip so deep into his mouth that it feels like he will never relinquish me.
Before I realize what is happening, he rips the shirt from my body before tossing it to the floor. With both hands, he cups my breasts, squeezing the softness. The hatred filling his
eyes is almost jarring. I never wanted it to be like this between us. In the beginning, I had naïvely thought we could overcome the past, but it’s become obvious that will never happen. There is too much ugly history that sits between us like a gaping chasm. The best thing we can do is leave each other alone.
“Why are you doing this?” I whisper.
His fingers still as he searches my eyes in the darkness. “Haven’t you figured that out yet?”
I shake my head, bracing myself for his response.
“I’m going to ruin you for anyone else.”
Laughter bubbles up in my throat. Doesn’t he realize that I’ve already been wrecked?
“Now turn over.” The heaviness of his weight disappears until he is no longer straddling my torso.
When I remain motionless, his hands lock around my hips before he flips me over and drags me down the mattress until I’m folded on my knees with my ass in the air. The side of my face hits the pillow and a shuddering breath gets knocked from my chest.
A thin pair of cotton panties are all that bars him from full access.
His wide palms settle on each cheek before he gives them a rough squeeze. I close my eyes, desperately trying to block out his touch. If anything, it has the opposite effect, intensifying the sensation.
My muscles lock as I wait for the contact to turn punishing. It’s only a matter of time before he lashes out, wanting to inflict as much damage as possible. Which is exactly why his gentleness confounds me. The way he caresses me, playing with my flesh, stoking the need that has been rioting dangerously beneath the surface, feels nothing short of amazing.
Kingsley once told me that he could be tender or punishing. He accused me of enjoying both, and he wasn’t wrong. I like the pleasure-infused-pain more than I should. It’s almost as if he’s trying to lull me into a false sense of security. I have to fight the natural inclination of my body to give in and enjoy the way he’s stroking me.
Even knowing the game he’s playing at, it doesn’t take long before my muscles are loosening beneath his fingers, surrendering to the masterful way he touches me. It takes a moment to realize that his hands have disappeared. As I question the coolness that now surrounds me, Kingsley grips the elastic band of my panties and in one swift motion, tears the material from my body.
A thick coil of tension settles in my core as his palm cracks one cheek before giving the same treatment to the other side. I press my lips together to stop the moan from escaping.
What the hell is wrong with me?
Enjoying this is all kinds of wrong. And yet, that knowledge doesn’t make a difference. No matter how he torments me, I enjoy it.
Would beg for it.
There’s no point in lying to myself about how easily he’s able to arouse me. As if to drive home the fact that he understands it as well, Kingsley smacks my backside a few more times with the flat of his palm until my cheeks feel like they’re on fire. Only then does his hand flatten over me. The coolness of his skin dulls the fire radiating from within. Almost gently he massages the twin globes and once again, my body surrenders to him.
He could do anything, and you would still fall apart beneath his fingertips.
It’s a disturbing realization.
As he kneads my flesh, the thumbs of each hand graze the outer lips of my pussy. The touch grows closer until I can’t stop from straining toward him. Somehow, he’s able to break down all of my resistance until there is nothing left. Until I am nothing more than a quivering mass of hormones greedy for his every caress. My brain is too clouded with pleasure to dwell on the ramifications of my actions.
On the next slow pass, his fingers sink deep inside me.
“I’ve missed this,” he mutters.
For the first time in nearly a week, my mind clicks off and I allow myself to soak up all the delicious sensations that ricochet through my body. It doesn’t take long for an orgasm to build like a storm. When his fingers disappear, a whimper of protest escapes.
His hand migrates from my pussy to circle around the tightly puckered ring of muscle bared for his scrutiny. “I’ve missed this as well.”
I’ve missed it, too.
Unwilling to give voice to those private thoughts, I keep them trapped inside where they can’t do any further damage.
The thick finger buried inside my sheath now presses insistently against my anus. There’s a slight burn as he breeches the barrier, pushing inside the tight space. When I whimper, he makes a soothing noise, rubbing soft circles across my lower back with his other hand.
The finger buried inside stills, giving me time to adjust to the intrusion. It doesn’t take long for me to grow impatient. Only then does he surge forward. Nerve endings spark to life and my eyes roll up inside my head as a throaty moan spills unwantedly from my lips.
“You like that, don’t you?” Satisfaction brims in his voice. He knows what he does to me, how his touch affects me, how it teases out all the indecency within me before dragging it into the light.
“Yes.” I don’t bother to lie.
When he attempts to withdraw, my muscles clench around him, desperate to keep him locked inside me. Instead of pulling all the way out, he presses forward, sliding in deeper this time. It takes everything I have inside not to moan with ecstasy. He repeats the process, driving his finger further with each new thrust. The rhythmic motion lulls my body into a contented state of bliss as he stretches the muscles with his finger. Once his thick digit is seated deep inside, his other hand wraps possessively around the curve of my ass as if to hold me in place.
“This is mine,” he growls, squeezing my backside as if to claim ownership.
I hate that those words settle something deep inside me.
When I remain silent, his fingers bite into my flesh. “Did you hear me?”
“Yes,” I yelp.
“Good.” He deepens the penetration, his finger moving in a steady tempo as his other hand slides toward my clit before rubbing insistent circles against it.
“How much do you want me, Summer?” The slyness of his voice wraps around me, cocooning me in pleasure.
When I press my lips together, refusing to answer, the pressure on my clit increases and I groan, moments away from splintering apart.
“Tell me,” he demands, pausing as the finger filling my backside slides from me before surging forward again. A heartbeat passes as the intensity spiraling within becomes almost too much to bear. Any moment, I’ll fall to pieces beneath his fingertips. “I want your words.”
The breath lodges at the back of my throat as waves of ecstasy ripple through me. “So much,” I reluctantly whisper, giving in to him. I’m so close to falling apart. Just a little bit more...
“Then beg for it.”
No.
My teeth sink into my bottom lip, unwilling to allow a single sound to escape. No matter how much I want the pleasure he’s capable of doling out, I refuse to plead. When I remain silent, the delicious pressure on my clit and anus increases, pushing me relentlessly closer to the precipice. As I’m about to dive headfirst over the cliff, he pulls back. It’s like a ferocious storm gathering strength only to fall apart at the very last second before fading into nothingness.
And then it starts all over again. Climbing and building until it reaches a fever pitch.
“Do you want to come?” he murmurs, breaking the heavy silence that has fallen over us.
“Yes,” I whimper, needing him to shove me over the edge so I’m able to forget for a few mindless moments that we are nothing more than enemies.
That we will always be enemies.
“All you have to do is say the magic words,” he purrs.
A moan slips free as his fingers pick up speed. I can’t take much more of this sweet torment.
I can’t.
“Please.” I hate myself for giving in to his demands.
“Please, what?”
I should have known it wouldn’t be th
at easy.
“Please,” I gulp, unable to stop the rest from tumbling out in a rush, “make me come.”
His fingers turn relentless, and I squeeze my eyes tightly shut as intensity crashes over me. As I stand perched on the cliff, orgasm seems imminent. The air becomes trapped in my lungs as every muscle coils tight with greedy anticipation. There has been no joy to be found over the last week. I need this. I need to feel the hot licks of pleasure pumping through my body, making me forget all the anguish. If only for a few fleeting seconds.
My fingers tangle in the sheets as I arch and then...
Nothing.
When his fingers vanish from my body, my eyes spring open and a strangled gasp falls from my lips as the force building disintegrates, leaving behind an ache so vicious that it borders on agonizing.
“On second thought, I’ll follow your suggestion and find Sloane.” A ruthless cruelty threads its way through his voice as he rises from the bed. “Sleep well.”
He saunters to the door before pausing over the threshold. “Oh, and welcome to Rothchild Mansion.” With that, he closes the door behind him, locking me inside the dark space.
Sexual frustration swells, but there is no outlet. Instead, it settles in my core. The stifled breath filling my lungs escapes in a rush as I flip onto my back and yank the covers over my naked body.
I’m an idiot for not expecting this. I turn onto my side and curl up into a tight ball, staring sightlessly at the wall of windows. Kingsley’s new mission in life will be to break me.
And I can’t allow that to happen.
Chapter Seventeen
Six o’clock rolls around much too fast. I’ve barely closed my eyes, and the alarm is going off the next morning. As tempting as it is to skip school, that’s not possible unless I’m in the mood to repeat senior year, and honestly, I’d rather slit my throat than spend any more time than necessary at Hawthorne Prep.
For just a moment, I stare at the vast stretch of ceiling that soars over my head. It’s been exactly one week since Dad died. A deep pang of sadness fills my heart.
Queen of Hawthorne Prep Page 11
