by Stella Hart
I had to do it.
Nate must’ve seen the acceptance flit over my face, because he smirked and started pushing me down, one hand on my shoulders and the other still wound up in my hair, yanking it until my eyes watered. “Fight me if you want,” he muttered. “It’ll only make me harder.”
I wasn’t going to fight him. I knew better than that.
With shaky hands, I reached for the front of his pants and slowly undid his belt. I could already see the hard bar of his erection through the fabric. “Suck,” he growled, glaring down at me.
Humiliation swept through me in waves as I unzipped his pants and pulled out his cock. Someone could decide to leave the party any minute now, and the first thing they’d see would be me in the gazebo, blowing the campus king like a pathetic groupie.
But I didn’t have a choice. Nate had made sure of that.
I looked up at him one last time, hoping against all hope that this was just a vicious joke after all.
There was no mercy in his gaze. No compassion. Only cold cruelty. “I told you to suck my cock, Alexis,” he growled, pulling on my hair again.
I lowered my head and took his long, hard length in my mouth, hollowing out my cheeks as I sucked. Every few seconds, I flicked my tongue over the head, making him groan. I didn’t want to make him feel good, but at the same time, I figured there was more of a chance that he’d actually delete the video afterwards if I made sure it was the best damn blowjob he ever got.
I swallowed him deeper and deeper as he roughly thrust into my mouth. Saliva leaked from the sides of my lips and dripped down my chin, and tears trailed down my cheeks and mixed with it, making me feel even more ashamed. If someone saw me right now, they’d be horrified by how much I was letting this man humiliate me just to keep myself out of jail.
“That’s it,” Nate groaned, fucking my face harder now. I almost gagged, but I didn’t stop. “Oh, fuck. I knew you’d be good at this. You’re a little slut, aren’t you?”
I didn’t reply. I just kept sucking and licking. I even played with his balls, cupping them gently with one hand and letting my nails gently stroke over the sensitive skin.
“Stop,” Nate said a moment later. I thought it was over, but instead he pulled me up and pawed at my dress. “Get this off. I want to see you bare.”
“I can’t,” I said, shaking my head. “Anyone could come out and see.”
“I don’t give a fuck. Take it off.” He squeezed one of my breasts. “I want to see these, and I want to see your pussy.”
I did as he said, slowly and shakily. When my dress was on the cold floor of the gazebo, I slid my lacy thong panties down over my knees.
“No bra. I’m not surprised,” Nate muttered, sliding one hand between my legs. “You really are a little slut.”
A jolt of electricity shot through me as the pads of his fingers found my clit. My core ached and pulsed, silently screaming for more, and I almost cried as Nate’s lips curved up in another smirk.
“I bet you’re wet for me,” he said, sliding one finger up to my entrance. I knew it was soaked before he said another word.
I tried to tell myself that it was just a physical reaction that I couldn’t control, but torrents of guilt streamed through me anyway. He was right earlier. I was a slut. There was something very wrong with me for getting turned on by a guy like Nate in a situation like this.
“I fucking knew it,” Nate said, pulling his hand away and pushing me back down to my knees. “You soaked my fingers, slut.”
He made me suck his fingers clean, and then he forced his cock back between my lips, burying his swollen length in my throat. I could feel him throbbing as he grunted, thrusting in long, hard movements, and I whimpered and closed my eyes, praying for it to end soon.
Nate slapped my left cheek, making my eyes snap open. Then he moved his hands to his belt and yanked it out of the loops on his pants. He wrapped it around my neck and pulled it tight, making me choke and sputter.
“That’s it,” he grunted. “That’s fucking it. You better be ready to swallow my cum, little slut.”
I let out a moan, but the sound was barely audible with his cock still in my mouth. He pulled back and thrust one more time. Then he groaned loudly, spilling salty spurts into the back of my mouth.
When he was done, he removed the belt and let me stand up. With trembling arms, I hurriedly pulled my clothes back on, not even daring to look at him. I was too ashamed. Not because I was covered in tears and strings of saliva, but because I was still wet. I could feel myself pulsing and throbbing beneath my underwear, empty and desperate.
“I’m deleting the video now,” Nate said, showing me his phone. True to his word, he put the video in the trash folder, which he emptied as well.
“That was really the only copy?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“Good. Now we’re even,” I said. “So you can stay the fuck away from me.”
He chuckled darkly. “Even?”
“Yes.” My eyes narrowed, and I wiped my chin and glared at him. “You got your blowjob, and I got that video removed from your phone. So we’re square.”
“Not even close.” Nate’s hand trailed over my right arm, sending tingles over my bare skin.
“What are you talking about? You said that video was the only copy.”
“It was. But I’ve been following you, Alexis,” he said softly. “My house wasn’t the only one you broke into, was it?”
I swallowed hard and didn’t respond.
“I’ve directly witnessed you sneaking into two other houses in this town over the last month. I’m guessing there were probably others too, before mine.” He paused for a beat and cocked his head to one side. “I’ve noticed you never take anything. You just look around. What’s that about? Is it envy?”
“Why the hell would I be envious of anyone from this town?” I spat.
Nate smiled thinly. “Well, I know your family has some money. But nothing compared to the people here. It must be hard for you to see all these huge estates and mansions and know you’ll never belong in one. It must be hard for you to imagine all the things you missed out on, too.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
His smile widened. “I’m talking about how difficult it must’ve been growing up with so little compared to what you could’ve had if your grandparents hadn’t disowned your side of the family. They’re quite wealthy, aren’t they?” he said. “But I guess they had to reject you because of what your dad did. Am I right about that?”
I felt as if his belt was around my neck again, squeezing painfully. My breath stopped, and the gazebo seemed to spin around me.
“You know who I am,” I whispered.
He nodded. “I do, Alexis. Or should I say… Alexandra?”
Sickness rose in my throat. “How did you find out?”
“I recognized you after we met,” he said.
“But you didn’t say anything.”
“It didn’t happen right away,” he said, brows furrowing. “I knew you were familiar, but I couldn’t figure out why. It finally hit me as I walked into the restaurant that night, when I arranged to give your phone back.”
“How did you recognize me?” I asked, hands trembling. “How could you possibly know?”
“For some reason, my dad took me to your dad’s arraignment when it happened,” he said, cold gaze raking over me. “I sat right near you in the courtroom, and after that, I always remembered your eyes. That exact shade of blue with the rings of gold around the pupils. You’ve grown up and dyed your hair, but I know it’s you. Alexandra Covington.”
Hot tears slipped down my cheeks. “You can’t tell anyone,” I whispered.
“I haven’t,” he said. “Yet.”
“Please, Nate. Don’t.”
His lips curved into a cruel smile. “You understand me now,” he said, running his thumb over my cheek to capture my tears. “Right?”
“No.” I shook my head. “What
do you mean?”
“I own you now, Alexis.” His nasty smile grew wider. “And that means I’ll decide when we’re even.”
7
Alexis
Without another word, Nate stepped out of the gazebo and started walking away.
“Hey! Wait!” I snapped out of my shocked reverie and frantically raced to catch up with him. “What are you going to do?”
He stopped and turned to look at me. “Nothing right now.”
I gulped. “So you are going to tell people who I am at some point?”
“Don’t fuck up and I’ll consider keeping it to myself.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s pretty fucking simple, Alexis. It means don’t fuck anything up,” he said. A smirk suddenly twisted his lips. “If you can manage that, we can be friends. No better way to start a friendship than with a secret, right?”
I took a step back, hands balling into fists. “We will never be friends,” I hissed.
Nate lifted one shoulder in a nonchalant shrug. “Suit yourself. Just remember what I said.”
With that, he turned and left.
On shaky legs, I headed out of the park and over to the road. I didn’t bother getting a security escort back to my dorm, even though it was a fifteen-minute walk across the campus in the dark. After all, what was the worst that could happen now?
The worst had already happened.
My dark secret had been exposed to the cruelest person I knew, and he’d already used it to force me to my knees. I shuddered to think what he might do to me in the future, but I couldn’t tell anyone about it and try to save myself from him without telling the truth about my identity.
That couldn’t happen. The people of Avalon Island would probably chase me away with pitchforks if they ever found out who I was, even though it was my home just as much as it was theirs.
So fucking unfair.
When I got back to the residence hall, I knocked on Claire’s door, just to see if she was home. As usual, there was no answer.
With a heavy sigh, I went into my dorm and opened my laptop to send quick Facebook messages to Laurel and Ruby to let them know that my phone had broken and I’d returned to my dorm to try to fix it. That way they wouldn’t worry when they noticed me missing from the party.
After that was done, I took my phone out of my purse and carefully pulled it apart. Then I placed the battery and other pieces on tissues on the accent table, next to the Everlasting roses.
I was pretty sure I was wasting my time. There was only a very slim chance that my phone could’ve survived the recent swim in hot spiced wine, even though Harry managed to get it out within two minutes.
Letting out another sigh, I stripped off my dress and went into the bathroom. I was disgusted by what I saw in the mirror. My eyes were red and puffy, and long streaks of mascara covered my cheeks and chin. Some had even dripped down to my neck and chest, mixed in with silvery strands of dried saliva.
I looked like hell.
Swallowing a lump in my throat, I turned the shower onto full blast and scrubbed myself under the scalding water for what felt like an hour.
Even though my skin was pink and almost rubbed raw by the time I was done, I still felt filthy. With his cruel mouth and sinful hands, Nate had suffused my hair and skin with the kind of dirtiness that didn’t wash out.
His words echoed in my mind as I pulled on my pajamas and climbed into bed with my giant box of chocolates and laptop. No better way to start a friendship than with a secret, right?
My blood boiled at the thought of him suggesting that we could ever be friends. I knew that was the whole point, though. He wanted to make me angry so he could rub my secret in my face. After all, what the hell was I going to do with my anger toward him? Report him to someone? Of course not.
Like he said earlier… he owned me now.
After stuffing three rich truffles into my mouth in an attempt to eat my feelings, I lay back against my plump pillows and focused on Netflix. My vision started to blur and spin after a while, and I lay a hand across my forehead and groaned, wishing I hadn’t had so much mulled wine earlier in the evening. That stuff was a killer. It tasted sweet and harmless, but that made it dangerous, because it was easy to drink too much of it.
At some point I drifted off to sleep. As usual, my dreams were filled with strange, terrifying images. In the latest nightmare, I was visiting a house deep in the dark woods on the northwest side of the island. There was a long hallway lined with doors, and all of them were closed except for one at the end. It was open just a crack, and there was a dark shadow there, watching me.
I needed to know who he was. Or she.
I surged forward. “Tell me your name,” I whispered, reaching for the doorknob so I could push it open all the way and reveal the identity of the shadowy person.
The scene changed before I could catch a glimpse of a face. I was the shadow person now.
I looked in a mirror, but there was nothing but darkness in the reflection. Then I tried to look down at myself, and I saw that I was now a monster with knives for hands.
“I’m sorry,” I murmured, looking up to see a frightened girl in the hall. “I’m so sorry, but I have to kill you.”
Then there was blood, so much blood, and awful howls of agony.
My eyes snapped open as a gasp escaped my mouth. I hated those dreams; the dark and terrible ones where I was the Blackthorne Butcher. The worst part was that I never knew who I was when it was happening, because I didn’t know who the killer was in real life. The information simply wasn’t available for my subconscious to construct nightmares around, so I was always a shadowy monster instead.
My limbs felt heavy as I lay in the strange no-man’s-land between sleep and consciousness. My vision was blurry, too, and my head was thick with the kind of fog that I usually only felt after nights of serious drinking.
Worst of all, the room was spinning like crazy, and rainbow bursts of color were suddenly appearing all over the edges of my vision. There was also a shadow somewhere near my bed, dancing around, and a low voice echoed from somewhere in the background. It was a familiar voice, chuckling and murmuring.
I blinked rapidly.
I didn’t drink that much at the party, did I? Enough to be a little tipsy, sure, but not enough to hallucinate like this two or three hours later. Either my drinks were spiked with some sort of drug earlier—one which only just set in—or I hadn’t really woken up and this was just another dream.
I closed my eyes and opened them again to see that my dorm ceiling had turned into a starry night sky.
Definitely a dream.
A dream in which I was paralyzed.
It had just occurred to me that I couldn’t move my arms or legs. All I could do was open and close my eyes and mouth. “Stop,” I whispered to myself. “Wake up.”
It didn’t work. I remained trapped in the near-motionless state.
The shadow on the edge of my vision moved again, and I became aware of a presence in the room. My breathing turned shallower as the seconds ticked by, and on top of those harsh, nervous sounds, I could hear the slow, steady thrum of another human’s breath.
Monster, was all I could think as I lay there, heart beating so hard I could hear it thudding in my chest. It came back.
I blinked again, and then I saw that the shadowy figure was Nate. His angular features were lit by the starry canopy that used to be my bedroom ceiling.
“Oh. It’s you,” I murmured. “How long have you been here?”
“Always,” he muttered. He was at my side now, head leaning over mine. “I’m always watching you, Alexis.”
In the bizarre, colorful dream state, that seemed like a perfectly acceptable answer.
“What are you doing here?” I asked. “Why can I see you?”
“I decided I wasn’t done with you,” he said, pulling my blankets back to expose me to the chilly night air. “I wanted to see that pretty pussy of yours again.”
“I know you aren’t real.”
Nate’s hands were at my hips now, hooking in the sides of my pajama bottoms. “Not real?” he replied. His voice was low and husky with a tinge of amusement.
“You’re just part of the dream,” I whispered, still unable to move. “The real Nate couldn’t get in here without a key.”
“I can do whatever I want.” My pajama bottoms were gone now, and Nate’s hands were pushing my legs apart.
He mistook my inability to move or stop him as acceptance. “You’ve already learned not to fight me,” he muttered. “I wish you would, though. You know it only makes me want it more.”
A warmth was spreading from my head to my toes. I wished I wasn’t paralyzed, because I wanted to dance. To spin. To twirl.
“I’m not going to fight you,” I said, giggling softly as the imaginary Nate put his free hand around my neck.
“You really are fucked up, aren’t you?” he muttered. His other hand moved again, probing deeper between my thighs, invasive and intruding.
“I’m glad you aren’t really here,” I said, ignoring his question. After all, it wasn’t a real question. Just a figment of my twisted imagination.
“Why?” he asked softly.
My insides churned, twisted, and writhed as my body screamed for his masterful hands to keep playing with me. The warmth streaming through me had risen to almost agonizing levels; a white-hot, bone-deep need to feel him touch me. I wanted to feel him on me, inside me, around me, everywhere.
“Because it means I can tell you things I would never tell the real Nate,” I whispered.
“Like what?”
“Like how I wish you weren’t so fucking hot. How I wish I could stop thinking about you.” I was panting now, voice breathy and light. “How I wish part of me didn’t enjoy what happened earlier. But it’s true. I feel so fucking guilty.”
“You have a lot to feel guilty about, don’t you, Alexis?” he asked, squeezing my neck a little harder as his other hand played between my legs, grazing the hot bundle of nerves at my core.
