Boys That Tease: A Bully Romance (Lords Of Wildwood Book 1)

by Betti Rosewood

  "And the other?"

  I hesitated, finally admitting, "The other one is here."

  "Is the school close to your mom better?"

  "No, this one is," I confessed. "But Tinsley, that won't matter to her. She just wants to get away from here and from my dad. India asks about him so much, and I think it upsets Mom."

  "When are you going to be here, then?"

  "In the summer." We stared at each other, and I picked my next words carefully. "Maybe every other holiday."

  She started laughing then, a sound that soon turned to sobbing. "You can't go," she managed to get out. "Please, Crispin, don't leave me." She clung to me on the bed, and I held her sobbing body to my chest.

  "Shh, crybaby, I won't."

  "But you will. She's going to make you. Stay with me, Crispin. I need you to stay with me, please, please stay with me."

  "How?" I whispered against her silky hair.

  "Figure it o-out." She stuttered and cried as her voice got smaller. "Please, Crispin. You have to. Otherwise they're going to keep us apart."

  "Okay." I swallowed, tipping her chin back to stare into her eyes. I was determined to do everything in my goddamn power for this girl, for the Tinsley before; the Devin Mooney that I fell in love with before I even met her in person, for my crybaby, my Tins, the way she was that day, purple hair and ripped jeans and all. "I'll do anything I can to stay. I promise."

  "Thank you." Her voice was barely above a whisper, and she sniffled as she looked away, her hands trembling. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to freak out like that, it's just... I don't want to lose you."

  I didn’t want to lose her either. "You won't. I promise."

  Something wasn't right. Even with my promise to fix things, Tinsley was off in a way I’d never seen before. Her breaths were shallow and erratic, and her hands trembled on my chest. I got her to sit up on the bed, but as I tried to situate myself next to her instead of underneath her, she jumped up and ran to the other side of the room. I approached her with my arms outstretched, but she motioned for me to stay where I was.

  "I don't know if I-I can handle a-anyone tou-touching me right now," she managed to get out. "I don't feel okay." She appeared terrified, and I didn’t have a clue what to do.

  "Do you want me to get your mom?" I asked, and she shook her head.

  "Please don't, she's j-just going t-to worry more. It's just a p-panic attack, it'll pass."

  I approached her despite her warnings, and with every step I took toward her, she started to shake more.

  Her eyes wide and so very scared. "Don't touch me," she begged. "Don't, Crispin, please."

  I showed her my hands, crossing my arms at the wrists behind my back. "No touching. I promise. Let me just try to make you feel better, okay?"

  "O-Okay."

  I came closer, keeping my hands crossed and stepping close enough to feel her breath on my skin, but still a few inches away from making contact. She trembled like a leaf, and when I leaned down to kiss her forehead, she let out a frustrated sigh. A moment later her body was pressed against mine, and she pulled at my arms, forcing them around her. I held her like that, her front to mine, sheltering her from the darkness inside.

  "Tins, you're going to be okay," I whispered in her ear, squeezing tight. "I'll make sure we stay together."

  "Okay."

  "I don't want to leave you. I can't—" I bit my lip. "I can't imagine a life without you. There are so many secrets I still have to tell you."

  "Like what?" She peered up at me through dark lashes, her cheeks flushed and stained with mascara. She'd never looked more vulnerable, and everything in me needed to protect her.

  "I love you," I admitted. The words I'd carried with me for such a long time, feeling their heavy weight in my pocket, suddenly slipped out so easily as if I'd been ready my whole life to be there with her, whispering them into her ear, reassuring her. "I do, Tinsley." I’d held onto those three words until she’d needed them to be her fortress.

  "I..." She looked into my eyes, letting out a confused giggle. "I can’t believe you just said that..."

  I can’t either, crybaby. I grabbed her cheeks with my hands and kissed her. Needy, deep kisses told her I'd steal her back every single time just like she had stolen me from her best friend. She kissed me back, passionate and sweet.

  I dropped to my knees in front of her with my eyes fixed on hers. She stared deep into my soul as I moved closer. My hands found her hips, and my forehead rested against her navel. I took a deep breath. Tinsley still shook, scared, needing so much more than I was giving her. Her little fingers wrapped around mine, and she guided my hands to the zipper of her jeans, insistently tugging on it. I unzipped her, and then released the button. She came undone beneath my fingers. Neither of us said a word, as if too afraid to speak up, knowing a single word could change everything forever.

  The silence lasted an eternity, and I hooked my thumbs in the belt hoops of her jeans. Finally, she made the decision for me, and her hands pushed the pants down her hips and exposing inch after inch of skin of beautiful, creamy skin.

  I gasped when she exposed herself. My fingertips glided over her flesh, my brows furrowing when I came face-to-face with raised, puckered tissue. Scars. So many scars. Little ones, barely scratching the surface, and deeper ones, reaching into her flesh. I wanted to scream at the unfairness of it all, but I bit back my protest, letting my fingers wander over her supple skin. They were old wounds, all healed now, but that didn't make them any more painless.

  "Why?" I asked her, raising my eyes to hers and searching for answers in her gaze. "Why did you hurt yourself, crybaby? Why did you do this to yourself?"

  She bit her bottom lip, looking so innocent, so young and sweet, but her eyes carried the pain she'd felt for years without telling a soul. "Nothing else helped," she whispered. "Nothing else felt good."

  My fingers tightened around her hips, and I brought her body closer to mine, inhaling her scent. Her panties matched her hair, a light lavender color rimmed with sweet lace. I wanted to rip them off, but I stopped myself despite knowing how much we both wanted it. I needed to be a hundred percent on board. The moment I’d seen those scars, I decided, nobody was ever going to hurt Tinsley Sullivan again—least of all me.

  "People must have known," I muttered, and she looked away, tightly closing her eyes. "The makeup artist? The wardrobe person on set? My dad—fuck, does my dad know?"

  She nodded, swallowing a cry. A trembling smile took over her pretty face, and she whispered, "He tried to fix things. He's the one who told my mom. I wouldn't have gotten help if it weren't for him."

  The pain was too much, her closeness did things to my head, things I was ashamed of. "I need you," I confessed, my own voice as shaky as hers. "I need to feel you."

  "Me too," she whispered. "Feel me." She took my hand and guided it over her hot center. "I need you here."

  I groaned, searching her face for permission. When she gave me the smallest of nods, I hooked my fingers into the sides of her panties and slid them off, never taking my eyes off hers as I stripped her bare for me and me only.

  I wanted to bury my face between her legs. Find a new home in that sweet, untouched pussy that she'd kept hidden so well just for me. And the urge was getting harder and harder to resist as her honied scent filled my nostrils, making me groan again.

  "Let me," I begged as her fingers tangled in my hair.

  She was past the point of saying no, and she guided my lips between her legs, needing it as much as I did.

  I kissed her pussy. Her sweet, virgin pussy. Just a little peck on the front, where her wetness gathered, making her quiver. It wasn't enough. I kissed again, this time giving her a gentle bite, making her moan. Despite being on my knees, I had never felt more powerful, having her completely at my mercy.

  "I need more," I confessed, and she pulled me closer.

  I licked her slit, tasting that wetness, knowing how needy she was. Her scars wouldn't leave my mind, and ne
ither would her desperate, choked little sighs that escaped those plump lips every time I took a taste of her sweetness. It was an instant addiction, a taste I wanted to remember for the rest of my life. I grabbed her hips, my hands going to the globes of her ass, firmly holding her in place as I dove into her nectar.

  I was greedy, and so was Tinsley. Moments later, I'd parted that cunt and was licking at her center. I'd done it before, but never like this—never with the intense, burning desire to feel her explode on my tongue, nothing like what I felt now. I buried my face in her folds. I wanted her to drip down my chin. I needed to replace the pain with pleasure. All those rough touches, the scratches responsible for the scars, the shame, the bad things she’d felt... They were all forgotten as I brought her pleasure on my knees, with my lips on her pussy, like sucking out the venom that had poisoned her.

  "I'm going to make you better," I uttered a promise, causing her to tremble in my arms as I licked her clit.

  She shivered, letting out a loud moan, and I knew I'd hit the spot that truly made her weak. I kept going, licking her sweet center, sucking on that little bundle of nerves until she was helpless in my arms, so close to coming apart the “pleases” had melted into an incomprehensible jumble of words on her lips.

  "You want to come for me?" I asked her, wiping my chin. "Tell me you want me to make you come, Tinsley."

  "Make me," she begged. "Make me come with your mouth, Crispin. I need your tongue."

  I made her stand with her feet apart, her shaky legs were barely able to hold her weight as I buried myself between her thighs another time. I lapped at her clit, her lips, fucking everything, tasting every last drop of her needy sweetness until she finally came apart for me.

  She nearly dropped to her knees, too, but I held her firmly in place, delivering her the pleasure she deserved. Her orgasm was powerful, and her fingers knotted in my hair. Watching eyes roll back as she came for the very first time was a sight I would never forget.

  Unfortunately for Tinsley, I was nowhere near done yet.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Tinsley

  "Tinsley?"

  "Shit," I muttered, shocked by how shaky my voice was. "What's up Mom?"

  "I'm heading out to run some errands! You kids be good. I'll be back tonight."

  "Okay, bye Mom!"

  We stayed frozen in place until we heard the front door shut. I was tense, and so was Crispin, but once we realized we were alone, an excited little giggle escaped my lips, and Crispin grinned at me from his position on the floor.

  "I haven't had enough," he told me, his voice dripped with need. "I need more of you. And I want it, now."

  "Me too," I confessed, my heart beat faster than ever as I gripped his hair. "Get my clothes off. Now."

  He didn't need to be told twice. Crisping was off the floor and tearing at my clothes so fast that he popped the buttons off my top. I giggled, and he smiled, leaving me trembling in nothing but my bra.

  "I've tasted that pussy," he groaned. "Now, I need more. I need to be the first one inside it. I want to have your cherry, Tins."

  "I saved it for y-you," I whispered, reaching behind my back and unhooking my bra. "Look at me, Crispin. I saved all of this. All of me. For you.” I let my bra fall away from my body, exposing myself to him.

  His eyes were dark as he took a step in my direction. "For me?"

  "Just for you," I nodded. "I knew you'd be the one to have it, no matter what happened." I should have been embarrassed to admit that, but it felt right.

  "Good," he muttered. "That’s the way it should be."

  Finally, his eyes broke away from mine, drinking in my now naked body. If I'd ever felt insecure about my features, it all melted away when he took me in. In front of Crispin Dalton, I didn't feel like a crybaby, a poor little rich girl caught up in a scandal of her own making. No, I felt like a girl becoming a woman thanks to him. I was a goddess—his goddess.

  "I'm never going to get sick of this sight," he admitted, and I blushed as he reached for the hem of his T-shirt, tugging it off.

  I came face-to-face with his sculpted body and gasped at the sight of him. He took a step toward me, and his hands gently explored my skin. His touch traveled from my butt to my hips and over my navel to my nipples. He was gentle as his eyes devoured me. With a tweak, Crispin hardened my peaks, making them pucker.

  "You respond so perfectly. Like you were made for me."

  I blushed, looking away, but he wouldn't let me.

  "Are you ashamed?" he asked softly, and I found myself nodding, not quite understanding why. "Don't be," he said. "There’s nothing to be ashamed of. All I see is how fucking undeniably beautiful you are. You own me, Tinsley."

  "I don't," I whispered, but he took my hand, guiding it over his throbbing length. "Crispin, I..."

  "Look what you do to me. Nobody else. Just you, Tins."

  "I need you." The words that poured from my lips were a surprise to me, but not to him.

  He stared deep into my eyes and said words that would send my heart soaring. "You have me already. But now I'm going to claim you."

  "Okay." I nodded, swallowing. . I can’t wait any longer.”

  He picked me up as if I weighed nothing, making me giggle nervously when he carried me over to the bed. My room had never felt more inappropriate for what was about to happen. The pink walls, the pink bed, all a sign of childhood that was about to be thrown out the window.

  He lay me on my back, unzipping his jeans and stripping to his boxers. My heart was pounding by the time he got on the mattress next to me, and my hands were as eager to explore as his. My fingertips traveled over his skin while he kissed me. His cock pressed urgently against me, but Crispin took his time, relishing the feeling of my body caged beneath his.

  "You waited for me." He held my eyes until I confirmed his suspicion with a nod. Then groaned and made an admission of his own. "But I waited for you, too, Tins."

  "W-What?" I stuttered. "You're a—"

  "Yeah." He grinned, a shy smile made him look cuter than ever. "I waited for you, too."

  I couldn't fight my grin. The way he held me was as if I were made of porcelain, so breakable, so fragile. His trailed kisses over my body, licking at my center again, and causing me tug on his boxers.

  "I wanna see," I begged.

  He stood, teasing me by lowering his boxers so slowly my mouth watered. His dark, trimmed hair came into view, and a moment later, his cock bounced free. I could barely look at him, but I forced myself to. I wanted to see how much he needed me, that he was just as eager for this as I was. His cock was long, too long to ever fit inside me. Deep reds and purples colored his thickness, and I swallowed hard at the sight of him.

  "Did y-you bring a condom?" I managed to get out.

  "No." His heavy brow dipped in what appeared to be disappointment. "I really didn't think this would happen."

  "I'm on the pill." I blushed. "Mom had the doctor put me on it when I turned eighteen."

  "I can't fuck you bare." His actions told a different story. Crispin stroked his cock, and then came to lay on me, aiming his thick head at my slick entrance. "I can't do that to you, Tins."

  "Please." I guided him hands closer with a shaky hand. "Please do it."

  "It's not—" he tried to argue, but I pressed a finger to his lips.

  "I don't care."

  He groaned. I could tell how hard it was for him to fight this urge, and I hoped to God he would fail in his attempt to deny us both.

  I’d waited eighteen years. I’d held onto this for him. "Take it," I whispered.

  "Take what, crybaby?"

  My fingers trembled as I wrapped them around his girth. He inhaled sharply as I pushed him between my lips, deeper until he met resistance.

  "This." I managed to speak loudly enough for him to hear me. "Take it, it's yours."

  Every muscle in his body was coiled with tension. Crispin held, fighting the inevitable.

  "Stop," I begged. "Stop fighting
it. I'm yours."

  With a groan, he thrust only once, but it was enough. I mewled at the unexpected pain. He didn't move again, but I felt him growing inside me, filling my untouched hole to the point of bursting.

  "Please, Crispin," I begged him. "Keep doing it. Keep fucking going."

  He thrust again. Blinding pain took over, but I swallowed my cry. My hands were buried in Crispin’s hair, and his eyes begged for more.

  "I don't know if I'm doing this right," he confessed. His voice was noticeably less confident than normal, but I craved his vulnerability. "It feels so fucking good, though."

  "Then it must be right," I whispered. I was thrilled Crispin was enjoying it, and I wanted to join him in that euphoria. "Keep going. Take the pain away."

  His fingertips glided over my scars, and I closed my eyes tightly as he pushed inside me, slowly, but insistently. I was needy for him, drenched for him, desperate for him to turn the pain into pleasure—something I'd never quite mastered myself. But it only took a few minutes of gentle thrusts for the pain to morph into fullness—something I'd never felt before. With him on top of me and his throbbing cock buried deep inside me, I felt something I’d never experienced before.

  Complete. I felt complete.

  "Keep going," I begged, my voice tinged with a hearty need for his body, his words, his clumsy, big hands finding my cheeks.

  His eyes bore into mine, and he only moved his hips. Our foreheads remained pressed together as his cock pumping into my sore pussy—claiming it. The pain lessened and then finally stopped. It was replaced by an explosive need. My fingers tangled in his hair, and as hard as I tried to convey my desire, words wouldn’t come.

  "You like it?" His words were tender and careful, testing the waters. "Is this okay, Tins?"

  "Yeah," I managed to get out. "It's... It's good." And God was it.

  He groaned, one hand finding its way under my butt. Once he changed the position and shifted me up, his cock went deeper, and I cried out.

  "It's so fucking hard to hold back," he grunted. "I want to blow inside you, crybaby. I want to fill you up."

  "Do it," I begged him.