Trinity High: High School Bully Romance

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Trinity High: High School Bully Romance Page 43

by Savannah Rose


  “Yes, please.”

  He drops a couple of cubes in the amber liquid, then hands me the glass. Our fingers touch for the briefest of moments, and the entire atmosphere is suddenly electrified. Tiny shockwaves travel down my spine, and I am startled by the mere effect of his skin on mine. It’s preposterous. And it’s been going on for a very long time, without either of us even realizing it.

  “I don’t like staff around at night. The property is secured, and I enjoy the silence of an empty house,” Elias says. He looks at me, warmth emanating from his eyes. “How are you feeling?”

  “Better, sort of,” I reply. “I got off easy after this morning.”

  “Let me guess. Anger management classes?”

  I nod, and he laughs. The sound coming out of his throat is gruff and relaxed. It’s incredibly sexy. I don’t think I’ve ever heard Elias laugh like this before. Maybe this is the very first time I’m seeing a more… honest version of him. We’ve spent so many years taking shots at each other, we’ve both built our defenses quite strong.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt anything,” I say, addressing the fact that Giselle was here only moments ago.

  “You didn’t. Giselle was on her way out,” Elias says. “We’re not exactly on speaking terms at the moment,” he adds and shrugs, like he’s not very bothered by that fact.

  “Oh.”

  I’m not sure what part of his statement to address first, so I decide to take a long sip from my drink, instead. The whiskey burns, but as the heat unfurls inside my stomach, I feel the edges smoothen around me. My muscles begin to relax, and the dull ache in my ankle subsides, ever so slowly.

  Elias’s attention is fixed on me, and I feel like an ant under a magnifying glass. The sun is about to come through and burn me to a crisp—that’s what Elias’s persistent stare feels like, sometimes.

  “I didn’t do it for her, if that’s what you’re wondering,” Elias says, his voice low, making my skin tingle. There is something changing between us. It’s been shifting for a while now, but I can sense the details on a deeper level. We’re not the same Kira and Elias we were a year ago. Or five years ago. Or ten, when we first met in the Park, and our fathers made it clear that we were to spend the rest of our lives hating one another.

  “Oh?” That’s all I’m able to respond with, heat continuously expanding through my core. He stands a few feet away, but I can almost hear his heart beating. Or maybe it’s just mine, drumming in my ears.

  He takes a step forward, and I stop functioning altogether. “I did it for you, Kira.”

  “For me?”

  “I am not your enemy. And you’re not my enemy. You’ve been through enough, Kira. You didn’t deserve to lose your shot at a higher education because of the tantrums of one vapid, talentless bimbo,” Elias says, and I snort a chuckle.

  Humor flickers in his eyes as he gets closer. The air between us thickens, and I know… I can feel the electricity crackling. I know… another step, and we will both surrender. It’s written all over his face, and it’s exactly how I’m feeling.

  “Well, thank you, Elias,” I reply, my voice trembling. “And thank you for opening up about your own… you know, struggles…”

  “You mean my pill addiction?” he asks, and I nod slowly. “I put it behind me a long time ago. Shortly after I buried my father, to be specific. I had Sheldon, one of my associates, close, though. I had someone to pull me up and slap me around… remind me of what I was losing in my desperate quest for numbness.”

  “My doctor says there’s nothing wrong with my ankle. It’s fully healed, and yet the jabs of pain I get are so intense… so fucking mind-numbing… I can’t get by without the pills,” I murmur, my gaze dropping, overcome with shame and sadness. Tears prick my eyes, but it feels so good to say this aloud.

  “It’s not the ankle,” Elias says, closing the distance between us. He grips my chin, raising my head so he can look at me. “It’s up here.” He gently presses his index finger against my temple. “Believe it or not, it’s just your brain. It’s sabotaging you, Kira. It’s addicted to the Oxy, but it has no true symptoms to rely on, so it hijacks your nervous system, making you feel pain that isn’t really there.”

  The way he describes it makes perfect sense. I’ve thought about it, too, more than once, but the pain always feels so real, it’s nearly impossible to dispute.

  “When’s the last time you took a pill?” he asks, unwilling to look away from me.

  My knees are weak. But I dare not answer. A strange longing worms its way through my chest, and I’m too busy trying to control my reaction to this closeness. Arousal isn’t far behind. His fingertip travels slowly down the side of my face, following the line of my jaw, and I clench, deep down. This is a surefire way to descend into some kind of delicious madness I’ve only ever experienced with him.

  “This is a no judgment zone, Kira,” Elias says. “Be honest with me.”

  “Not since before I got to school, today…”

  “So, you’ve got… what, maybe twelve hours since the last fix?” he replies, and I nod slowly. A shadow of a smile dances across his face. “The first twenty-four hours are critical. The following forty-eight are insanely difficult. It’s a process, but I can help you through it, if you’ll let me.”

  There’s no point in fighting this any longer. Look where my stupid pride has gotten me.

  “I shouldn’t trust you,” I say, almost breathless.

  “You also can’t trust yourself right now,” he counters and he’s not wrong. The question is, what do I care more about? My body or my mind? The pills are fucking with my body. Elias is fucking with my mind.

  He takes a deep breath and moves back. I am suddenly cold, his absence already affecting me. I take another sip from my whiskey, hoping to get some warmth back into my body.

  “Would it be too much to ask if we can just start the hell over?” He laughs a little. It’s a nervous laugh, and I like the fact that just like me, he’s not one hundred percent comfortable right now. “Whatever issues our families have had. Whatever issues the two of us have had, on account of our families… all of that goes into the trash.”

  For the first time in what feels like forever, I’m perfectly fine with every piece of everything he says.

  “I never wanted this.” Unintentionally, my voice is a little above a whisper.

  He stills, watching me, the look in his eyes, one I don’t dare to decipher. The last time he looked at me like this, we were sixteen years old and I was stupid enough to allow him to get close enough to kiss me. Stupid enough not to realize that he wasn’t just heated after the fight we had, but that he was carrying out his revenge. Needless to say, things didn’t end well back then. I walked away with my white pants smeared with ketchup. And Elias walked away with a smile from ear to ear. The last time we kissed, things didn’t exactly end much differently. Sure, he might not have smeared ketchup all over me, but he did kick me the hell out of his house.

  “Kira…” he whispers, and I hate that the tone of his voice and the way my name dances across his lips allow my walls to crumble at my feet. “A fresh start?”

  I nod, because a fresh start is exactly what I would like right now. However, there’s still an elephant in the air that none of us are addressing. A part of Elias extending an olive branch might be the fact that he and my father seem to be getting along. That doesn’t sit well with me. Not because I’m pissed that my dad forgot about dinner. But because no matter how wide my father smiles at Elias, the sinister part of him will never allow his hatred for the Dresslers to be erased. Not completely. And not even a little bit.

  “I never wanted to hate you,” I tell him. “I never wanted you to hate me.” I can feel tears coming and I’m not really sure what I’m crying about. The end to this era of hatred? The fact that I’ve just confessed to someone that I need help? That I’m not okay? That I’m a fucking addict? Or maybe a combination of everything, including the uncertainty of my future and the
probability that dance might not fit into that future.

  “I know you didn’t,” Elias says. There’s no space between us now as he pulls me against his chest. It’s so firm that it’s almost uncomfortable. Something akin to cuddle with a rock, or a chunk of steel. “But we’re okay now. Everything’s going to be okay now. Your dad and I-“

  The mention of my father manages to bring all my tears to a halt. “You can’t trust him,” I say and my voice has never been less shaky.

  “Kira…” Elias starts, but I press a finger against his lips.

  “You have to be careful, Elias. Whatever my dad is planning with this joint charity idea of his… don’t trust him. You can’t trust him. Maybe don’t do the event at all…”

  “Kira.” He runs his hand through my hair, frowning as he reaches the back. I’ve already fixed Giselle’s handywork at the salon. My head feels light. “Kira, I know,” he says, his gaze darkening as it settles on my lips again. “But don’t worry about me and your dad, okay? This game he’s playing, I’ve been playing it long before I even knew I was a player.”

  I stare into his eyes, falling and falling, but uncertain of what exactly I’m falling for. His lies. His truths. His game.

  “Are you with me, Kira?”

  “I am… I’m with you…” I whisper the words, uncertain of just how much I trust them.

  He takes my face between his palms and holds me like that for a moment, just the way he did back at the hospital. “It won’t be easy,” he tells me. “You might even hate me for a while.” Lowering his head, he brushes the tip of his nose against mine, and my soul begins to expand, close to exploding like a newborn star.

  “I’ve hated you for long enough,” I say and I mean it. Right now, standing here, with no more than a whisper of space between us, I feel lighter than I’ve felt in a very long time.

  Wrapping my arms around his narrow waist, I lean into him. My breasts are pressed against his torso. The bulge in his jeans fits neatly below my womb. He’s as hard as a rock, and I’m shocked, but only for a moment. The truth is, the thought alone of him touching me the way he did the last time is enough to send my senses into a frenzy.

  The temperature is rising so fast, I’m seeing white for a split-second. His hands snake around my body as he pulls me closer—so close, that our bodies merge. His embrace is firm, possessive, and yet gentle… inviting, even.

  “How far do we take this?” Elias whispers against the top of my head.

  “I don’t know,” I answer honestly. “Just don’t break me, okay? I’m enough of a mess, already,” I reply, trying to regain some of my frazzled senses.

  “You’re tougher than you think you are,” Elias says, his lips moving over mine with each word. Something snaps. Whatever barrier we had between us… it’s gone.

  He tightens his grip, fingers digging into my hips. I kiss him, and he kisses me back twice as hard. Despite my predisposition to take control, I allow him to take over. Within minutes, we’re devouring each other again, his tongue lavishly making love to mine. I can feel the past burning up in flames, flakes of ashes dancing around us as we lose ourselves into one another.

  My pants fly off. His shirt is next. I settle my palms on his chest, squeezing and reveling in the feel of him, naked under my fingertips. He grunts softly as he deepens the kiss and makes my top disappear.

  “This has been a long time coming,” he says, between rushed breaths.

  His hands come up, working on the front clasp of my bra. We kiss and lick each other’s lips, my fingers fumbling with the buttons of his jeans. He bumps into me, and I feel him so hard against me. I squirm as he removes the cups and pulls the entire bra off by its straps. My panties are soaked already, but we’re not there yet.

  “Fuck, you are gorgeous…” Elias whispers, hot coals burning in his eyes as he takes all of me in. He touches my breasts, fingers first drawing invisible circles, outlining the curves with lazy moves. But then he pinches my nipples, and I moan softly, pushing myself into him.

  I dip my fingers between his jeans and his hips, digging deeper until I get past his boxers and find the most generously-sized cock, marble-stiff and pulsating, burning to enter me. It’s enough to make me come undone, as I leave the last of my fears behind.

  Elias hisses as I wrap my finger around his length. He unbuttons his jeans, letting his cock spring free. His lips are wet and parted as he kisses me again. This time, he’s ravenous. He bites and suckles on my lower lip, while his hands squeeze my breasts and tease my nipples until I whimper under his hold.

  I need more. I need so much more…

  As if reading my mind, he pulls his head back to look at me, while I’m melting against him, unable to let go of his throbbing erection. He takes my hand in his, and I stare at his cock for a second, admiring its size. It’s thick, and I wonder how it’s going to feel, once he…

  “You’re a virgin,” Elias says.

  For a moment, it feels like the film strip just jumped from the projector, interrupting the entire scene. I’m not sure what to do or say next. His frame stiffens, and he uses his other hand to raise my chin again.

  “Kira…”

  “Hm?”

  “You’ve never been with anyone, have you?” he asks, and I feel so defenseless, naked and irreversibly aroused, aching for everything he has to give me.

  Forget my fears, my pride. Forget everything. I meant every word I said to him, and I need this moment. I need us, more than anything, right now.

  “I’m a virgin. Yes,” I reply, my knees threatening to give out.

  He thinks about it for a little while, as I cup his face with both hands and pull him into a kiss. He doesn’t reject me, and I feel hope blossoming, growing brighter and hotter in my chest. “Then let me do this right,” Elias says, taking me in his arms.

  Before I can realize what’s happening, we’re moving. Up the stairs. Through an open corridor overlooking the grand salon, where most of our clothes are scattered all over the floor. We’re in his room, now, and he sets me on the bed. The dark blue wallpaper and nautical motifs sort of scream Elias. The curtains are pulled, and there’s only a dim light coming from a wall sconce close to the door.

  “Let me do this right,” Elias repeats himself, gently pushing me until I’m on my back, legs hanging over the bed. He towers over me, watching me quietly. Slipping out of his jeans, he leans down and kisses me, and I feel the movie starting again.

  My blood rushes to my head. He squeezes my breasts, dropping hot, wet kisses along my jawline, until he catches my earlobe. He nibbles on it for a little while, as I struggle to breathe. I feel my chest rising with every shaky breath. My hands wander up and down his arms, feeling every muscle… the softness of his skin. Elias is a sculptor’s dream.

  “Oh, god…” I manage, as his mouth continues traveling downwards. He licks every inch of skin in his path, nipping here and there, until he finds a nipple. “Oh, god!” I feel the need to repeat myself when he takes it into his mouth and suckles on it for what seems like forever. Every tug makes me whimper, sending rippling sensations through my lower body.

  Instinctively, I dig my nails into his shoulders, and he hisses with pure pleasure. He moves on to the other nipple, teasing and further tearing me apart. By the time he’s done, I’m panting and desperate to climb the highest mountain.

  “Take me, Elias… Take all of me, please…”

  He stops. “I will. Every last drop of you is mine, Kira.”

  I exhale sharply as he moves lower, his tongue dancing down my abdomen and dipping into my bellybutton for a hot second. My throat hums as I watch him lift my legs, and push my ankles onto the wooden edge of the bed. I hold the position, as he stares at me, his lips mere inches from the most sensitive part of my body.

  “Every last drop,” he says, then digs into me with an animalistic hunger that rips a deep moan from the center of my chest.

  He kisses and licks my wet folds, slurping and pressing his lips against the delica
te flesh. He finds my clitoris, a tiny and highly-charged nub, and he uses his tongue to flick it, over and over, while his fingers begin to explore my pussy.

  “Elias…” I croak, unable to hold my head up. I end up staring at the ceiling, my whole body turning into mush as Elias consumes me.

  He sucks until tension gathers in my womb. I’m about to bring my legs together, but his head keeps them apart. He dips two fingers inside, and I cry out, so close to the edge that I am getting dizzy. Still, we climb even higher. Working my clitoris, he pushes three fingers inside, exploring and stretching me… preparing me for what comes next.

  “Elias…”

  “Mm, I have to admit, I like the way my name sounds in these circumstances,” he mutters before going back in. This time, he sucks harder, more aggressively. Jolts of the most delightful pain I have ever experienced shoot through me, as I reach the very peak. He works me over with his three fingers, as well, curling them whenever he pulls back, and I begin to move, my hips rocking up and down.

  There’s a rhythm being established here, a wave that I’m riding, and I never want it to stop. None of the orgasms I’ve given myself can even remotely compare to the explosion that rocks me when I finally come.

  Crying out, I arch my back upwards as Elias sucks hard, relentless, determined to shatter me into pieces, his fingers going deeper until I flinch from a shooting ache. But I embrace it, unravelling in the throes of a stunning orgasm, as Elias revels in my pussy and… I’m weightless.

  Thousands of colors explode before my eyes. I feel like I’m disintegrating. I’ve never felt like this before, and I know it’s only the beginning. I exhale sharply, unable to catch my breath, as Elias’s fingers leave me, and he comes on top.

  Settling between my legs, Elias smiles. “Every last fucking drop. It’s going to hurt, Kira…”

  “Please… Just… Yes!” I manage, wrapping my arms around him. He lowers his head, breathing me in, as he uses one hand to position himself. “Oh, yes… yes, that’s it… please!” I am begging, and I have no regrets about it whatsoever.

 

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