King of Hawthorne Prep

by Jennifer Sucevic

  Shock washes over me and I glance at my parents to see if they’ve detected the same snide tone, but their expressions remain impassive as if he has said nothing to give offense.

  Dad raises his finger at a passing waiter, signaling for a refill.

  Another drink?

  What the fuck is going on around here?

  Fed up with the forced banter, I slip from Mom’s embrace. It takes effort to keep the smile pasted in place as I lie through my teeth. “It was lovely to meet you, Mr. Rothchild.”

  “Please, call me Keaton.” One corner of his mouth lifts sardonically. “We’re neighbors. I’m sure now that we’ve gotten to know one another, we’ll be seeing more of each other.”

  I truly hope not.

  “Take care.” With a relieved breath, I move through the crowd. The air inside the house has turned stifling with the amount of people crammed into the space. Before I realize it, I’m heading toward the backdoor that leads outside. I’m in dire need of fresh air. After that bizarre conversation, I’ve earned a few minutes to myself. It’s like my parents had given him my pedigree.

  Why?

  Why would they do that?

  Unease slithers down my spine before I banish the peculiar feeling. This party is unpleasant. It’s nothing more than that. In a few hours, it’ll be over, and these people will get the hell out of my house.

  No one bats an eye as I quietly escape through the patio door. As soon as my heels hit the stamped cement, I pause and inhale a deep breath before slowly releasing it back into the atmosphere.

  Then I do it again until the tension leaks from my muscles.

  Better.

  Much better.

  As I move toward the pool, I toss a glance over my shoulder at the lit-up house. A feeling of dread crashes over me. The need to run away pulses through me until it’s all I can think about.

  As my eyes adjust to the darkness, I spy an oversized towel neatly folded on a lounger I had used earlier this afternoon for a dip in the pool. As soon as the idea enters my head, I don’t bother trying to talk myself out of it. I slip the heels from my feet and drop them next to the cushioned chaise before grabbing the towel and padding to the little spot at the back of the property I’ve claimed as my own.

  As I traverse the lawn, the noise of the party fades into the background until it’s nothing more than an annoying buzz. I shake out the towel before arranging it on the grass and lowering myself to the ground, mindful not to stain or wrinkle the satin fabric. With a sigh of relief, I stretch out, stacking my hands behind my head as I relax onto the thick cotton material and stare at the black stretch of canvas overhead. My body loses its rigidity as I pick out constellations.

  I always begin with the North Star. Then the Little Dipper before moving on to the Big Dipper. With each familiar cluster of lights, my unease dissipates.

  There’s Cygnus which looks like a giant cross or maybe a bird flying through the sky. It’s one of my favorites. I shift my gaze, continuing to search for arrangements. There’s Delphinus, which means dolphin. To me, it looks more like a trapezoid or kite with a tail.

  Now that everything has calmed, I have even less desire to return to the party. Would my parents really miss me if I stayed out here for the rest of the night? With so many people squashed in there, they probably won’t realize I’ve slipped away.

  The atmosphere changes, becoming charged and I sense his presence long before I see him walking across the lawn. I twist my head until my gaze can rake over him in the darkness. Even with the suit jacket thrown over his shoulder, he’s still ridiculously handsome in his starched white button-down and perfectly pressed black pants.

  Kingsley Rothchild is much too attractive for his own good.

  Mine as well.

  Without a word, he drops beside me before lifting his hand and gently tracing his index finger over my lower lip. That’s all it takes for a shiver of need to arrow through me before settling in my core.

  “Do you have an answer for me?”

  Chapter Thirty

  My breath hitches as his body shifts, stretching over my torso before he places one hand beside my head so I’m caged in. His face looms closer until his lips can dip to mine. Back and forth he brushes them without making contact.

  It’s sweet torture that leaves me whimpering for more. If I want to feel his mouth roving over mine, all I’d have to do is close the distance that separates us. There’s no point in being coy and pretending that I’m not addicted to the way his lips feel sweeping across mine.

  “I need a decision,” he repeats, gruffer this time.

  The intoxication of his breath is almost too much to bear. Not only do I crave his touch, I need it.

  “Summer,” he groans, as if I somehow affect him the same way.

  “Yes. The answer is yes.”

  His tongue darts out to swipe over the plump flesh of my lower lip. The caress has my eyelids feathering closed.

  “Are you sure?” He presses an opened mouth kiss along the curve of my jaw, and I tilt my head, baring my neck for his touch. “Once you’re mine, I will never let you go.” He searches my eyes. “Do you understand what that means?”

  His words send a sharp thrill shooting through me.

  “Yes,” I moan.

  He bites my lip before his tongue darts out to soothe the pain he’s inflicted.

  The truth of the matter is that I can’t imagine not being his. I can’t imagine anyone else stirring these kinds of feelings inside me. Maybe Kingsley’s words should frighten me. The finality of them. The possessiveness that weaves its way through them. When it comes down to it, we’re still in high school and haven’t known each other very long.

  But still...

  There is something inside him that calls to me. I felt it on the beach that first morning. And then the next day on the boat. A tentative bond as delicate as a thread has been created between us. No matter how many times I’ve tried to destroy it, it remains intact.

  “Then it’s done. You belong to me.”

  His words stir a feeling of pleasure inside me. One of rightness. It’s not something I need to question.

  He pulls away, putting enough distance between us so that his gaze can rove over the length of my body. The heat of his stare feels very much like a physical caress. From the hair gathered at the top of my head, to the blue skirt fanned out around my thighs, before falling to my bare toes.

  “You’re gorgeous.”

  “Do you like the dress? Mom insisted I wear it tonight.” The corners of my lips quirk. “She said it made me look innocent.”

  His gaze flicks to mine as wickedness fills his eyes, making the twin inky pools appear bottomless. “She’s right, it does.” There’s a pause. “I’m the only one who knows what lies beneath all that innocence, aren’t I?”

  It’s not a question that needs to be answered. We both know he’s the one who has corrupted me. It only takes the raspy scrape of his voice to have heat settling between my thighs. In a matter of days, I’ve become conditioned to crave his touch. Restlessly, I shift beneath his gaze.

  “You’ll give me it all, won’t you, Summer?”

  Everything.

  I’ll give him everything.

  A bolt of electricity shoots through me as one of his hands settles on the bare skin below the hem of my dress.

  “Yes.”

  “Good girl.” As if to reward the response, his fingers trail up and down my flesh. With lazy movements, they migrate toward the apex of my thighs.

  When I spread my legs, granting him more access, his lips lift into a knowing smile.

  “You need my touch, don’t you?”

  I moan as his fingertips brush over my panties. It’s nothing more than a light, teasing stroke. My hips lift, begging for more. His gentle caresses drive me just as crazy as when he tunnels his fingers through my hair and tugs my head back, rendering me powerless. At first, I was bothered by how much I enjoyed the manhandling. How it would send a rush of liqu
id heat to my core.

  Now, I no longer care.

  I want it all.

  Whatever he will give me.

  “That’s not an answer, baby girl,” he whispers.

  “Yes,” I sigh. “I need it.”

  I widen my thighs as his palm settles over my heat before giving it a possessive squeeze.

  “This belongs to me.”

  How could I possibly want anyone else when he fulfills all my needs? Needs I never realized existed until he carefully stoked them to life.

  When he takes possession of my mouth, I open for him until our tongues can meld. His fingers rub soft circles across the cotton that encases my core. Already the material is drenched.

  “So fucking wet,” he growls against me.

  The heated words send more arousal flooding to my pussy.

  “For you,” I tell him.

  “Damn right it’s for me.” He presses against the fabric until his fingers sink between my lower lips. “This is mine.”

  “I want you to make me yours,” I whimper. “Please.”

  He groans as if pained by the idea. “Is that really what you want, Summer?”

  No, it’s not what I want. It’s what I need.

  “Yes.” My hips gyrate against his searching fingers.

  “Fuck,” he hisses.

  In one swift movement, he shoves the satin of my skirt above my waist. His fingers hook beneath the elastic band of my panties, dragging them down my hips, thighs, and legs before tossing the soaked material to the thick carpet of grass beside the towel. Then his fingers are back, stroking over my bare lips. It doesn’t take long for me to grow impatient beneath his touch. The ache pulsing between my legs is already unbearable.

  Kingsley slips between my spread thighs before settling on his haunches. He strokes his hands up and down my legs before gently forcing them further apart. Even under the moonlight, I’m exposed to his gaze.

  Completely at his mercy.

  That knowledge only heightens the excitement flooding through my system.

  His fingers stroke over the delicate skin of my inner thighs until his thumbs can graze the outer lips of my pussy. When he kneads the flesh, I writhe beneath him, silently willing him to caress me. Instead of rushing, he takes his time, toying with me, slowly driving me to the brink.

  He rubs a wide circle until his thumbs pause over my lower lips before gently separating them. Cool air rushes over my inner flesh. I’m unable to stifle the moan of impatience growing inside me.

  “So fucking pretty.” His possessive gaze flicks upward. “And it’s mine, right?”

  “Yes,” I groan. “All for you.”

  With his fingers still holding me apart, his head dips as he gives my slit a long slow lap with his tongue. I slap a hand to my mouth to stifle the whimper trying to break free.

  “Delicious.” His warm breath drifts over me as he does it again.

  Oh God.

  When his teeth scrape against my clit, I nearly come off the towel. His hands tighten around me, holding me firmly in place as he repeats the movement. He nibbles at the tiny bundle of nerves until an orgasm so powerful streaks through me that my muscles tighten, and I scream against the hand clapped over my mouth. Instead of letting up, he teases out every drop of pleasure until my bones turn to jelly and I stare dazedly up at the brightly lit sky.

  I’m still floating on a cloud when I hear the tear of a wrapper and then Kingsley is moving over my prone body. With his gaze locked on mine, his cock presses against my soaked entrance, nudging my lower lips with his blunt head.

  “Tell me you want this, Summer.” There’s a tautness to his voice, as if he won’t last much longer.

  “I do, I want this.” As if to emphasize the words, I tangle my legs around his waist. The motion sends him sliding deeper inside my body. “I want you.”

  He groans as his lips settle over mine. Our tongues mingle as the taste of my arousal explodes in my mouth.

  “It’s going to hurt,” he warns, pushing further inside.

  “I know.” There’s a part of me that is nervous about the pain that he’s about to inflict. But I also realize that I wouldn’t have it any other way. In order for Kingsley to make me his, this needs to happen. He needs to pierce me so that our bodies can be joined.

  My breath catches when the head of his cock butts up against the thin membrane of my hymen. With short sharp strokes, he prods it. Our breathing synchronizes as his gaze stays locked on mine.

  The way his thickness caresses my inner muscles sends ripples of pleasure throughout my core. I groan and wiggle beneath him, needing more. The feeling continues to build until another orgasm explodes. As I cry out, he withdraws before slamming inside me and forcing his way through the thin barrier. When I scream, his lips seal over mine, swallowing the cry of pain and taking it deep inside his body.

  He holds himself impossibly still, allowing me time to adjust to the intrusion. “I need to move,” he bites out, his voice whipcord tight. “I have to make you mine.”

  Yes.

  God, yes.

  I want that just as much.

  Even though pain radiates inside my womb and tears sting my eyes, I need him to take me. With every thrust of his hips, a little more control falls away until his lips lift from mine and he throws his head back, groaning out his release.

  My gaze stays fastened on his face, needing to see the pleasure as it washes over him in heavy waves. It’s a heady sensation to realize that I’m the one who made him lose control.

  Me.

  The sharp bite of pain, the sting of his intrusion, was well worth it. I couldn’t imagine our joining unfolding any other way. Kingsley marked me in the most primal of ways and in return, I’ve done the same.

  When he collapses on top of me with a huff, I wrap my arms around his ribs and pull him close. With our bodies locked in intimacy, I’ve never felt more bonded to another human being.

  “Now you belong to me,” he whispers harshly against my ear.

  “And you belong to me,” I repeat.

  And nothing will ever change that.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  There is no gradual awakening for me the next morning. One minute, I’m deep in slumber and the next, I’m being ripped from a dream. My eyelids spring apart, and I stare at the face hovering inches above my own.

  “What?” I slur, barely coherent.

  “You need to get up,” Austin snaps.

  I don’t think so.

  “No,” I grumble, eyelids already drooping as I float back into sleep.

  All I want to do is roll over and burrow under my blankets until the sun is high in the sky. I’m exhausted. I don’t think I’ve ever felt this tired in my life. I shift my thighs, and a dull ache flares to life between them.

  Oh.

  A smile curls around the edges of my lips as I remember the way Kingsley made love to me last night. I wanted him to mark me as his and that’s precisely what he did. I have zero regrets about experiencing sex for the first time outside, under the brilliance of the stars. It was beautiful and perfect. Exactly the way it was meant to be.

  Austin shakes my shoulder and my gaze flies to him. “Get the fuck up, Summer! It’s important!”

  Oh, for goodness’ sake! Why is he even up? It must be the butt crack of dawn.

  “Whatever it is, we can talk about it later,” I mumble.

  “Hell, no!”

  “Why? What’s so important?”

  I screech when he rips the covers away from my body before tossing them to the end of the bed. “Mom and Dad were in the study having a meeting with our neighbor. He just left.”

  I’m about to unload on Austin when his words puncture the grogginess filling my brain.

  “Neighbor?” I sit up and frown. Last I checked, we weren’t on friendly terms with anyone in the subdivision. Not a damn one of them can be bothered to wave when we drive by.

  “Kingsley?” My heart skips a beat. Why would he be here, talking to our
parents?

  My brother’s upper lip curls. “No, dumbass. His father.”

  “Keaton?” My brow furrows as the questions he pelted at me last night flood my consciousness and the same unease fills me. “Why?”

  Something indecipherable flickers in his gaze. “You need to get down there and find out.”

  And just like that, I’m wide awake and scrambling from the bed to grab my robe before padding down the stairs to the study. I catch a glimpse of my parents with their heads bent together as they quietly converse. Their gazes jerk to mine as soon as I cross over the threshold. Austin is right behind me, hovering over my shoulder.

  “Hi, honey!” Dad greets with a forced exuberance that seems strangely out of place this early in the morning. “Did you sleep well?”

  My gaze narrows, darting from one tense expression to the other. Mom has an entire set of luggage under her eyes and Dad looks like he hasn’t slept for a week straight. This is a flashback to how they appeared last night at the party while talking with Keaton.

  “Yeah.” What little sleep I got. After Kingsley and I had sex, he held me in his arms, and we stared at the dark canvas of night sky. Cheesy as it sounds, it felt like the stars were shining for us. I pointed out all of my favorite constellations and a deep contentment like I’d never experienced stole over me as I lay sprawled across his chest.

  What we shared last night wasn’t just sex.

  It was love.

  He made love to me.

  I won’t fool myself into believing that I’m madly in love with Kingsley, but I could definitely get there. The seeds have been sown. All they need to do is flourish and grow.

  “We thought you’d sleep later,” Mom adds in a strained voice.

  The tension filling the study continues to intensify. I don’t know what it is, but Austin is right. Something is wrong. What I don’t understand is how Keaton fits into the equation.

  Yet.