Deep, slow inhalations.
After a few minutes, the nausea gradually recedes. When I glance up, the image in the mirror is almost enough to leave me wincing. Kingsley wasn’t wrong this morning when he told me I looked like shit. My eyes are hollowed out and my normally sun-kissed complexion has been leeched of all color. And I’ve lost more weight. It’s staggering to realize how much my physical appearance has changed since we were uprooted from Chicago. And the last week has only made the situation worse. Everly is lucky. She can focus on graduation and getting the hell out of Hawthorne, but that’s not in the cards for me. Unless Mom discovers a way out of the contract, I’ll be tied to Kingsley for the foreseeable future.
And if that’s not a depressing thought, I don’t know what is.
When the bathroom door swings open, I twist around, expecting to find my new friend. Instead, I’m pinned in place by dark eyes.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Kingsley flips the lock on the bathroom door. The sound is like a gunshot in the silence of the small tiled space as he leans against the thick slab of wood. My heart jackrabbits painfully under my breast as my mind registers that I’m trapped without an escape route.
“You’re not very good at following directions, are you?”
The low menace of his voice sends a fresh wave of nerves scampering across my flesh. Fear pumps through me like a living, breathing entity. Everly may not know the backstory, but she’s right about one thing.
“I don’t have to follow your orders. I’m not yours. You don’t own me.”
He smirks as amusement leaps into his eyes. “Is that so?”
I lift my chin, trying to hold on to my bravado. “Yes.”
“You’re wrong about that, I own every piece of you.” He pushes away from the door and saunters toward me. “And I always will.”
“No.” His words are like a fist wrapped around my heart, squeezing until every bit of life has been forced out of me.
“Oh, yes,” he says with a smirk.
Full-fledged panic slams through me as he stalks closer. My feet trip over each other as I scramble backward. When my shoulder blades crash into the wall, I realize there’s nowhere left to go. What I’ve learned about Kingsley is that he’s a wild card. He doesn’t play by any set of rules, he makes them up as he goes. As attractive as I find that quality, it scares the hell out of me now.
“I love the scent of your fear,” he murmurs when he’s close enough. “Or is that arousal? I can never tell with you.”
I shake my head, wanting to dismiss his words, but on some dark level, I wonder if they’re true. Buried beneath the distress is a thin layer of excitement. It makes my blood pound a little faster and my heart race a little harder. His nearness electrifies me, setting me on edge. It sharpens my senses until my body vibrates, functioning on a higher level.
How fucking sick and twisted is that?
A smile curves his lips as arousal leaps to life in his eyes. “As much as you don’t want to be turned-on, you are. As much as you wish you didn’t want me, that doesn’t change the fact that you do.”
I hate that he’s right and recognizes it, when I’m only just learning it for myself.
When he’s less than a foot away, he stops. I flatten my body against the tile, trying to keep as much physical distance between us as possible. Not that it will do me a damn bit of good. One stroke of his fingers and I’ll be lost. Swept away on a tide of sensation.
I realize it, and so does he.
My breath gets wedged in my throat as he reaches out, picking up a stray lock of hair before twisting it idly around his finger.
“Tell me I’m wrong.” His knowing gaze flicks to mine, pinning me in place. When I remain silent, he tugs on the thick strands. “I’m still waiting.”
“I don’t want you.” The fib slips almost effortlessly from my lips.
“Liar.” His teeth flash as he presses closer. The heat of his body singes mine as his steely strength aligns with my softer curves. He places one hand on each side of my head until I’m caged in. There’s no way to escape.
Fear courses through me, but he’s right, it’s tinged at the edges with arousal. It simmers beneath the surface, desperately trying to break free. Even though he has yet to touch me, my breathing turns shallow.
“What’s wrong, Summer?” His voice is full of innocence. He’s all too aware of the effect he has on me.
“Nothing.”
“I’m beginning to wonder if you’re a compulsive liar.” His lips feather over mine until the sensation becomes agonizing. “Are you even capable of telling the truth?”
I turn my face away before squeezing my eyes tightly closed. His warm breath drifts across my cheek before he presses a kiss against the corner of my eye.
“Stop.”
“Is that really what you want?” he asks softly, stroking his lips across my flesh.
No, it’s not. I love the feel of his mouth against me, but it’s not real. It’s a game he’s intent on playing. And the only way he wins is if I get hurt.
“Yes.”
“Prove it.” Every bit of sunlight disappears between us as his body dwarfs mine and the thickness of his erection digs into my belly. “Push me away.”
My hands rise, flattening on the sinewy lines of his chest.
“Come on,” he taunts, continuing to pepper kisses that are as delicate as a butterfly wing against my skin, “you have to do better than that.”
His mouth turns insistent, licking and biting between soft caresses. As much as I want to push him away, the urge to drag him closer thrums through me.
What’s wrong with me?
How can I feel this way?
My fingernails sink into his shirt, digging into the white cotton fabric and the slab of muscle that lies beneath.
“Are you actually trying to hurt me?” Humor laces his voice as he nips at my ear before sucking the lobe into his mouth.
Carefully, I turn my face until my lips can brush against his. The way his warm breath drifts across me is almost drugging. All I want to do is inhale a giant breath of him. “Maybe.”
“Oh, baby girl, you don’t have to try so hard. Haven’t you realized how much damage you’ve already inflicted?”
His silky words are like a punch to the gut.
“I never meant for it to happen.” My heart clenches until it feels like it’s being squeezed by a vise.
“It doesn’t matter.” His lips twist with bitterness. “I would have given you everything. Every damn part of me. And you threw it away.”
“I didn’t,” I whisper brokenly.
“Yeah, you did.” One hand drops from the wall to my shoulder before trailing over my collarbone until his wide palm can settle on my breast. When he flexes his fingers, my nipple pebbles in response. “I won’t say it again. Push me away or I’ll take you right here.”
I twist beneath him as he digs into my flesh. We both know that I’m not trying to break free but attempting to get closer.
“Are you really this needy after I fucked you last night?” His palm opens before his thumb and forefinger wrap around the stiff little bud before giving it a vicious pinch.
I whimper as arousal reverberates throughout my entire being before settling in my core like a heavy stone. His hand trails over my ribcage before stopping at my hip.
“Last chance,” he threatens.
All I have to do is flatten my hands against him and give one powerful push. Just one to prove that I’m capable of walking away. That I don’t still crave him. It shouldn’t be difficult. He’s an asshole intent on inflicting as much damage as he can. How can I not walk away from that?
Push him away and leave!
As much as I want to, my fingers refuse to straighten. A choked sob falls from my lips as my forehead drops against his chest and I squeeze my eyes tightly closed to blot out the hard truth of my predicament.
“Are you done fighting
me?” he asks, lips hovering at my ear.
“Yes.” I don’t have the energy to struggle.
“Good girl.”
What I want is for him to wrap his arms around me and tug me close. I need the comfort of his unwavering strength. In this moment, I’m strangely fragile. Precariously close to splintering apart.
His hand slides from my hip to my core. “This is mine.” There’s a beat of silence. The only thing that can be heard is the harsh breath that falls from my lips. “Do you understand?”
When his fingers bite into the soft flesh beneath my panties, I groan out my answer. “Yes.”
“And you’ll give me it any time I want?” The question is followed by another possessive squeeze.
“Yes,” I gasp.
“Was that so difficult?”
When I remain silent, he slaps the tips of his fingers against my pussy. I yelp in surprise as a strange rush of excitement pulses through me.
He smirks. “Why am I not surprised you like that?”
Embarrassment floods my cheeks until it feels like they are on fire.
“If you weren’t so deceitful, you would be fucking perfect,” he growls. “Take off your panties.”
My eyes flare wide as I shake my head. His fingers stroke over the seam of my lips. A strangled moan slips free when he pushes the cotton against my slit. As much as I hate myself for it, my legs widen as I thrust my pelvis toward him, wanting all the pleasure he’s willing to give me. When he presses his fingers deep, the cotton slides against my slick lower lips.
“I won’t ask twice.”
What I’ve come to realize is that Kingsley doesn’t make idle threats. I was an idiot for allowing Everly’s words to take root. This boy owns me just like he claimed, and there’s nothing I can do to change it.
A whimper of protest falls from my lips when his fingers disappear. His muscled forearm returns to the tile wall beside my head so I’m once again caged in. My fingers remain twisted in his shirt. It’s as if I’m hanging on for dear life.
“Take them off,” he threatens, “or I’ll do it for you.”
I gulp down my rising nerves only to realize that a heady mix of excitement rushes through me. “You need to move.”
“Nope.”
“Then I can’t—”
He presses closer. “Figure it out. And do it quickly, we’re running out of time.”
I loosen my fingers from the thick white material before allowing my hands to fall to my sides. From behind hooded eyes, he watches as I gather up the plaid fabric before my fingers can slip beneath the hem to rest against my thighs. They skim over bare skin until I reach the elastic band of my panties. I hook my fingers inside the one-inch strip and slowly drag them down until the material no longer covers my core.
When he doesn’t step away, I say, “That’s as far as they’ll go.”
“Wiggle out of them.”
“What?” He can’t be serious.
His irises dilate as they remain focused on my face. “You heard me.”
I glance away, wishing he would leave me alone and yet, I haven’t felt this alive in a long time.
“Eyes on me, baby girl.” His lips brush over mine. It’s a featherlight touch. Barely there before it’s gone. “You don’t need to think, just do what I say.”
As awkward as it feels with him shoved up against me, I squirm. His cock grows harder as my pussy brushes against him. The thin cotton slips further down my legs before pooling around my heels.
His lips curve as he presses them against mine. The caress is fleeting and then he’s sliding along my body, dropping into a squat. He reaches for them before tugging at the material. When I shift my feet, he picks up the panties before stuffing them into the pocket of his khakis.
His gaze flicks to mine as his hands settle on the flesh above my knees before spreading them apart. My breath catches as his palms slide upward, brushing over the hem of the skirt before meticulously gathering it into his fingers. Slowly the tartan material rises until I’m completely bared to his sight.
Kingsley makes a point of dropping his gaze and staring at the V between my thighs. “Are you as wet as you look?”
I pin my lower lip with my teeth, refusing to answer.
Not bothered by my silence, he shrugs. “Guess I’ll have to find out for myself, huh?” His thumbs settle on each side of my slit before pulling the flesh apart until my clit is exposed. “Fucking gorgeous,” he mutters, swiping his tongue across the tiny bundle of nerves.
Pleasure explodes in my core as he buries his face against me, feasting on my pussy as if he hasn’t eaten in days. My muscles tighten. Even though he’s barely touched me, I’m moments away from shattering into a million pieces. Chilled air wafts over my wet flesh as the warmth of his mouth disappears.
“Now turn around.” Kingsley might be on his knees, but we both know that I’m the one at his mercy.
“Hmmm?” His words don’t immediately penetrate the sexual haze clouding my brain.
He bites out the command for a second time. “Turn. Around.”
A scream of frustration bubbles up inside me. My body is wound impossibly tight as it throbs with arousal. When I don’t spring into action, Kingsley grabs my hips and spins my body until my front is plastered against the wall. The forceful movement has the air evaporating from my lungs.
He snaps out the next order. “Lift your skirt.”
What?
My skirt?
Hell no!
“Don’t make the situation any worse.”
I don’t realize he has risen to his feet until the front of his body is pressed against my back, all but crushing me to the unforgiving tile. His voice is nothing more than a low growl at my ear. When the pressure from behind disappears, I turn my head until the side of my face can rest against the wall. I squeeze my eyes tight and drag the hem of my skirt up until it’s midway over my cheeks.
“Higher.”
“King—”
“Do it!”
My fingers shake as I raise the plaid material until it hovers at my waist. Cool air hits my bare ass as my breath gets trapped in my throat. My face goes up in flames as I imagine Kingsley behind me, eating me up with his eyes. With the silent tick of every second, tension curls like a wisp of smoke in the pit of my belly.
And lower.
So much lower.
My pussy throbs with awareness as arousal crashes dangerously within me. It takes everything I have to stifle the moan building inside when he finally reaches out and trails a finger across one taut curve before doing the same to the other side.
“A perfect heart-shaped ass,” he murmurs thickly as his fingers sink inside my soaked heat, carefully stoking those flames all over again. Tension builds as my muscles turn lax and I use the wall to hold myself up. If I didn’t, I would slide down the tile and puddle on the floor. As a sigh falls from my lips, he cracks a wide palm against one cheek and then the other. Two movements in quick succession. The sound of flesh striking flesh rings out in the silence of the room.
My eyes fly open as I yelp, clenching my muscles against the attack.
“Stop,” I whimper as he smacks me again. I rise to the tips of my toes as my back arches to avoid the unexpected punishment. Arousal explodes in my belly. The swollen lips of my pussy rub against the fabric of my skirt as I force myself to the wall.
Oh God...this shouldn’t be a turn-on.
“Tell me who you belong to.”
He’s fucking crazy!
When I remain silent, the heat of his palm falls on me.
And then again.
“You!” I yell, breathless with the pleasure building inside me. “I belong to you!”
“That’s right.” His palms soothe the tender flesh as tears of resentment burn the back of my eyes.
“I hate you,” I whisper, heart pumping furiously with a heady concoction of excitement and anger.
He continues t
o massage my aching flesh before his fingers dip between my lower lips, thrusting deep inside my heat.
“Is that why your pussy is practically dripping?” he asks as his body hovers over mine, his thick erection jutting against my ass cheeks. I inhale a shaky breath as he flexes his hips. Images of how he took me last night roll unwantedly through my head, stoking unwanted desire to life.
His fingers slip from me, sliding around my body until they can settle on my clit. He rubs circles, keeping up the firm pressure until my hips are jerking against his hand.
“As much as you want to hate me, you don’t,” he whispers in my ear before the delicious pressure and the heat of his body disappears.
My teeth sink into my lower lip to stifle the sharp sense of loss that surges through me. It’s on the tip of my tongue to beg as my senses riot beneath the surface.
“From now on, when I tell you to do something, you damn well do it.”
Fuck off!
Even though I don’t give voice to the response, he cracks one cheek and then the other as if he hears it loud and clear. The stinging slap feels somehow sharper on my tender flesh.
“Fine!” I hiss between clenched teeth.
When he disappears, I wilt against the wall, dropping the skirt into place as the door to the bathroom slams shut.
It’s only when he’s gone that I realize the bastard has my panties.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Somehow, I manage to make it through the rest of the afternoon without further incident. Every time I pass Kingsley in the hallway, he smirks, gaze lingering on my skirt as if he has X-ray vision. It only makes me more self-conscious of my pantiless state. In each class, I remind myself to sit with my knees pressed firmly together.
By the time the bell rings at half-past two, I’m more than ready to get the hell out of here. As I open my locker to gather up my books, I find my underwear dangling from the silver hook inside. With a quick glance around, I stuff it in my pocket before disappearing into the bathroom.
Queen of Hawthorne Prep Page 17
