His lowered eyes remained planted on the grass.
"I guess we'll have some explaining to do later, huh?" I said, trying to lighten his mood.
"You could say that," he murmured.
I wondered for a moment why he hadn't been taken away by frantic faculty members. Something told me they had always known. Why else would Clayton have been sent to Hazeldene? They had only given him the space to finally reveal his true self.
I looked at him, and a flood of questions burst into my mind. Before I could filter them in any way, the first one shot out of me.
"I thought you were against me," I murmured. "After yesterday, I thought you'd decided I wasn't worth it."
His eyes widened shooting bright white at me.
"Are you serious?" He shook his head. "When you didn't come out of your room all night, I assumed you were mad at me."
"What?"
"When I kissed you and couldn't control the beast. And then you stayed in your room avoiding me..." He hesitated and shrugged. "I was embarrassed."
I froze in my spot.
"But I heard you were conspiring with Josie after dinner. I assumed it had to be against me."
He dropped his head back.
"Oh my god, Shaye. What part of this do you not get." He stared at me like I was dumb.
And he was right.
It had been so muddled, but it was perfectly clear now. I had been a fool.
He'd been with me the whole time.
And I wanted nothing more but to pull him back in, fully.
It was too much to process at once. I was so used to being the underdog and the target of everyone's bullying, I couldn't fully comprehend the amazing feeling of winning something.
But then, I also couldn't get away from the guilt that Clayton had given up so much for me.
We had all walked back to Hazeldene house to recover from the games, and of course, Noah and Piper, as well as Asher and Hattie, had already bee-lined to the kitchen.
"Chancellor Kelly said you should go to the infirmary," I nudged Clayton away from the stairs.
"I'm fine," he said, nudging back. "I just want to go to my room and sleep for like, ten days."
Every student who passed us stared as if star-struck. I chuckled, imagining what they had seen on the field. It must have been wild.
No wonder they stared now. Clayton looked like he'd been to hell and back. But somehow, still looked amazing and god-like. The temptation to put my hands on him overwhelmed me, and it only shot more guilt through my conscience. How could I be so distracted when all he needed was my support?
I shook off my roaming desires and followed him up the stairs.
"If you decide you need Graney Greta, just let me know. I'll get her."
He nodded and pulled himself up the stairs in silence.
I knew he was suffering inside. Every ounce of effort he'd put into building his reputation had been ripped apart. He was exposed and vulnerable now which was exactly what he'd been trying to disguise all along.
I exhaled in misery, feeling responsible for his demise.
We got to his door and I couldn't lift my eyes to meet his.
"I'm sorry," I murmured. "I never meant for this to happen."
He turned the doorknob in slow motion, as if considering his reply.
"It's exactly what needed to happen, Shaye. Hiding my true nature was a waste of time and effort."
I lifted my gaze to his.
"What did it gain me?" he asked. "Nothing. Only lost opportunity to gain control over this... this... whatever it is."
He reached for my hand, and encouraged me to follow him into his room.
Leaving him was the last thing I wanted to do. There was no telling what could happen now. He'd either fall into a deep sleep, or he'd fall into a depression.
I stepped into his room with him, and took a deep inhale. I hadn't been sure if I'd ever be back in his personal space like this again, and it filled my senses with happiness.
"Can you stay for a bit?" he asked with his eyebrows lifted in the middle. "I don't want you to go."
My air fell out of me in a whoosh.
"Um, yeah. I can... stay." My words shuddered out of me as he pulled his torn shirt over his head with one hand.
He locked the door and moved toward his dresser. Reaching for a clean t-shirt, his back muscles flexed, dropping my jaw.
I swallowed hard, absorbing the glow of his midnight skin, and as he turned toward me, his vulnerable gaze sent my mind into oblivion.
I dropped all guard and moved over to him in seamless motion. As my arms lifted to wrap around him, he opened his to catch me.
The force of my approach knocked him back into his dresser, and he widened his stance to steady himself. I pushed my body into him, and gasped from the feel of his strength and heat.
"Shaye," he whispered into my hair, taking a huge inhale of me.
"Clayton," I whispered back.
And his arms lifted me without effort, and brought me up to his face. His wide pupils sucked me in and wrapped me in his warm embrace. And then his lips found mine.
He kissed me with a passion that burned deep within my soul, yearning for every part of me, making me want him more.
I allowed his broken soul to pull mine into him.
And as I kissed him, I felt the rush of the beast enter my veins. My heart pounded as excitement coursed through me, and I bit his lip playfully.
"Ach," he laughed, licking his lip.
And that was the last straw. As my desire surged through every nerve, I tossed all restraint to the wind.
I grabbed him and knocked him off balance. Using his weight against him, I pushed him toward his bed and shoved. As he allowed himself to fall onto it, I pulled my shirt off and straddled him.
His hands roamed my body, then fumbled at the back of my bra. In two seconds flat, my bra hit the floor, and I was fully exposed on him.
He took a huge inhale as his arms pulled me closer.
"You're so beautiful," he whispered.
I kissed him again, allowing his words to flow through me, and allowing myself to believe them. My fingers moved along his chest muscles and down his abs. A thin line of hair trailed down below his belly button into his pants, and I nearly lost my sanity as my eyes followed it.
I moved my body over his in waves, feeling every part of him. A massive bulge pressed within his pants, begging to be released. As I pressed my hips on his hardness, he let out a groan that sent me spiraling.
I reached my hand down and rubbed him through his pants. I explored the shape and size of him as my heart rate quadrupled. My breath raced along with his as I pulled at the waist of his slacks.
He fumbled with his buckle, racing to help me, while jumping his hands to my jeans.
We pulled at each other's clothing until we finally wiggled out of it. In our underwear, we explored each other’s bodies further with our hands, and then with our mouths.
Straddling him again, I sat up slightly as his face trailed along my chest. He kissed my breasts and then hovered over one of my nipples. He licked and sucked at it, sending me higher as it hardened within his mouth. Tingles moved through me, concentrating between my legs.
I pushed my hips into his again, feeling his erection press into my crotch, and I gasped.
"Oh my god," I murmured, feeling the immense size of him.
He held me tighter, and then his hands trailed down my body, and he gripped the waistband of my silky underwear. He inched it down, and I lost my mind with his teasing patience. Grabbing onto his black boxer briefs, I pulled on them as well. In a few wiggles, we were out of them, pressing our naked bodies together in a bliss that sent me flying.
He reached for his nightstand and with a few tugs, got the drawer open. He pulled out a string of condoms.
"I hoped I would need these one day," he joked.
I grabbed them from him and tore one off.
"I'm glad you plan ahead," I said, opening the foil.
<
br /> Before I could throw the wrapper to the floor, he took care of business and had his arms around me again.
And that was when reality struck and fear widened my eyes.
"I, I've never done this before," I whispered.
He smiled and closed his eyes. "Neither have I."
I stared at him in shock. How was that even possible? Every girl lost her shit around him. I'd figured he was well experienced.
"We'll go slow, okay?" He looked into my eyes to be sure I was ready.
And I was more than ready.
I reached down between his legs and explored him again. He flipped me onto my back and positioned himself over me. His fingers moved down between my legs, and he gently touched my most private and sensitive place. My response to him was pure bliss, and I invited him further with every sensual movement of my body.
He pressed a finger inside me, and a sound of pleasure escaped my throat.
"You're amazing," he whispered.
And then he hovered over me, looking me in the eyes.
He was checking to see if I was ready, and before he even had a chance to ask, I wrapped my legs around his hips.
He slowly lowered himself into me, and that was when my inner fire torched to its greatest height.
The burn made me wince at first from the pain, but then it switched to pure pleasure.
He moved inside me like a wave of ecstasy as I shuddered with his every stroke. A groan of pleasure escaped my lips, sending me higher. Wanting it to last forever, I took hold of his shoulders and flipped him. Adjusting on top without losing contact of him inside me, I kept our rhythm as his energy thrilled through me.
In a final explosive quake, our worlds collided in what felt like an eruption of every pleasure sensor in our bodies going off at once.
Panting, I dropped my weight down on top of him and melted.
His arms wrapped around me as he panted in my ear.
"I think I saw heaven," he murmured.
With a chuckle, I lifted my gaze to his.
"Me too."
Chapter 15
Four times.
We did it four times.
And a fifth wasn't out of the question.
"We need sustenance," he mumbled, barely able to move.
I remained tucked into his chest, smelling the sweet sweat that beaded from his skin.
"You're a beast, you know," I murmured, loving every part of him.
"Not untrue," he chuckled. "But so are you."
I lifted my eyes to his, realizing the truth in his words.
I'd absorbed so much of his energy, the energy of the beast, it was part of me now.
"Come on," he said, sitting up. "We can come back after we eat something."
The thought of returning to his room was all I could think about. Food was an inconvenient necessity if I wanted our time together to continue. And I did.
"Okay, let's be quick."
He laughed at my eagerness to continue making love, and I blushed.
"Whatever," I chuckled. "You want to, too."
"Yup." And he pulled his clothes on without taking his eyes off me.
I slowly began to move, reaching for my clothing.
"You're all I can think about," he said. "You know that, right?"
I smiled, pushing away the disbelief for once.
"Same." I blinked, unable to pull my gaze off his perfect form.
Pulling on my jeans, I moved to the window and looked out across the vast lawn. The sun was beginning to dip behind the trees, casting long shadows across the playing field. A clean up crew had moved away most of the remains of the trials and the bleachers were almost fully disassembled. I ran my hands through my hair in total disbelief of how the day had unfolded. If someone had asked for a prediction, this outcome would not be anywhere on the list of possibilities.
For starters, I hadn't allowed myself to believe that I could truly get the position of Marshall for the Fire Festival. I'd never achieved anything in my life that I'd set out to do. The roadblocks had always been too great. So to believe in this had seemed like a pipe dream.
And to be with Clayton. On this level. Was something I'd never thought possible. He'd seemed so out of my league before, but now, we were on the same wave and it was incredible.
The most confusing part of the day, though, was the attack from my mysterious enemies. I knew now that the haunting banshee was a manifestation from Josie and Laney. They'd conjured the demon to harm me. But why?
It was the last burning question in my mind.
"I don't understand," I murmured. "Why would they attack me like that?"
Clayton slid into his Berks and moved closer. He reached his arms around me and lifted me to his face. He kissed me sweetly, then lowered me.
"I don't know. But we're going to find out."
"How?" I shook my head, knowing that Josie would never give up her secrets.
He took my hand and pulled me toward the door.
"Don't know yet," he said. "Can't think until I have food." He laughed as he pulled his door open.
The hallway was strangely quiet, and I was grateful to not have to do the walk-of-shame.
"Where is everyone?" I muttered, glancing down the empty hall.
We moved down the stairs to the second floor, noting the quiet there as well, and then hopped down the grand staircase to the foyer.
Murmuring voices pulled our attention toward the kitchen, and we followed them.
As we entered, all eyes fell on us.
It was a collective group of the most prominent faculty members of the house.
"Well, good of you to grace us with your presence," Graney Greta snarked.
I blushed for a second time.
"Everyone's on the terrace for the ice cream social," she added.
I smacked my forehead. "Oh, that's right."
I'd completely forgotten about the traditional ice cream social after the trials.
"Sorry, we needed to rest," Clayton said. "At least now, we can make a grand appearance."
They chuckled, studying us each time they thought we mightn't notice.
"Are Noah and Piper out there?" I asked.
"Yes. And Hattie and Asher," Chancellor Kelly interjected, stepping out of the group. "Your timing might actually be perfect. We were hoping for a chance to speak with the two of you."
Okay. Here it comes.
The interrogation.
"We'd like to meet with you tomorrow," she continued. "Once you're fully rested. Professor Finneas will need to record the details for the academy records. And, honestly, we'd all like to know more about what happened."
My breath sighed out of me with relief. I hadn't felt ready to talk about everything yet, and it seemed like they were respecting that.
I glanced at Clayton, and he nodded in agreement.
"Yes," I said. "Tomorrow will be good."
"Excellent," she agreed. "Well, then, let's enjoy the social and get some fresh air."
The group moved toward the back door, heading outside, and I lingered behind with Clayton.
"I don't think I'm ready to face everyone," I whispered.
"Me neither. And ice cream's not gonna take care of this situation." He rubbed his empty stomach.
He opened the fridge and pulled out a leftover ham from the dinner we'd missed. I grabbed a French baguette from a long brown bag, and we set up an assembly line for a slew of endless sandwiches.
We worked away efficiently, focused on getting away from such a public location.
"Let's take these out front onto the porch. No one's at that side of the house." He eyeballed the direction of our sanctuary.
Throwing everything back in place, he grabbed the platter of sandwiches as I took two mason jars of chocolate milk. We settled on the Adirondack chairs at the edge of the porch and dove into the platter.
In comfortable silence, we ate voraciously, replenishing our spent energy.
Then the front door opened with a slow creek.
We stopped chewing and stared, waiting for whoever might emerge.
With his hands folded in front of him, Prof Finneas stepped out and turned to us, clicking his heels together.
"History has been made," he stated. "And I, for one, cannot wait another day to hear of it."
Prof walked the length of the porch with a slow, steady pace. Each step reverberated through my bones as he got closer. It wasn't that I was necessarily intimidated by him, but his formal approach was always a bit off-putting. Feeling at ease around him just wasn't a thing.
He knew too much.
Every detail about Hazeldene—its history, its leaders, and every student who ever passed through the halls.
So, pressure was on every word we stated. He'd collect the information and record it as he saw fit. It was in his interpretation that my unease festered. He had the ability to piece things together in a way I had no idea about.
Maybe it would be a good thing. Maybe not.
"An important component of my protocol is to gather the details of an event as quickly and efficiently as possible. Preferably on the day the event occurred. My time stamp is my reputation, and I hope you'll allow me to keep its impeccable integrity."
I glanced at Clayton and almost laughed when I saw his unimpressed gaze. He stared at Prof Finneas as if he'd just wasted half his day.
Feeling bad, I turned back to Prof with a smile.
"Sure," I said. "I suppose we can share the main ideas for now. But explaining every detail will just take too long. We're not able right now."
Prof Finneas pulled up a bench and sat in front of us with eager eyes. His notebook was open in record time, and he clicked the end of his pen in rapid succession.
"So, what do you want to know?" Clayton mused with a shrug.
Prof huffed, as if his questions should be obvious.
And of course, they were.
But we were too tired to make this easy for him. And the hope of getting back to Clayton's room was moving further and further away with each passing minute, making us much less cooperative.
"My questions are numerous. I would hope to begin at the start, if only I knew where that might be. The fireballs. The beastly shift. The murderous banshee. You see where I'm coming from?"
Mystic Coven: Fire Festival (Supernatural Academy Graduates Book 1) Page 16
