Cruel Shame

by Sofia Daniel

  Orlando’s gaze raked down my form. “Don’t I get to see you?”

  “Get me hot and bothered enough and you can tear off my clothes.”

  His nostrils flared, and his handsome features spread into a grin of brilliant, white teeth. “Do you like what you see?”

  Pulling up my skirt to expose his purpling tip, I licked my lips and slid further down his legs. “How about I let you know after trying out the goods?”

  His eyes bulged. “You’re going to—”

  “Let’s just say I want the taste of things to cum.”

  A laugh erupted from his chest, making his muscles tighten and bunch. “You’re incredible.”

  When I gripped him around the base, the laughter stopped, and Orlando raised himself up on his elbows. My hands weren’t the smallest, and neither were my fingers, but I could barely contain his girth.

  My gaze flicked up to meet his, and those hazel irises shone with molten fire.

  I gave my lips a slow lick, making him tremble under my touch. Maybe it was the thought of affecting him without so much as my mouth touching his dick, but heat flooded between my legs in a rush of pleasure that made my head spin.

  Parting my lips, I let out a warm, slow breath, enjoying the way the organ beneath my fingers pulsed. He was so responsive and so mine.

  Orlando smelled of cedar and sunshine, and radiated a heat and masculine beauty that tightened my nipples and made my heart race. My core twitched at his pained, impatient groan, and saliva flooded my mouth, making it as wet as my folds.

  I lowered my lips toward the bulbous head of his penis, which seemed to swell in anticipation for my mouth. My tongue flickered out to catch the droplet, and he arched his back clean off the seat with a moan.

  “Steady on,” I said with a chuckle. “We’re only at the beginning.”

  Orlando’s face went slack, his lips quivering with unspoken want. “How do I taste?”

  I rolled the sweet, salty flavor around my tongue and hummed. “Undecided. I’ll need another few licks.”

  He threw his head back. “Are you trying to kill me?”

  I was too busy running the tip of my tongue up his shaft to answer. His skin there was as soft as velvet, as thin as silk, and barely concealed the rush and pulse of the vessels beneath my tongue. I paused to suck on a thick vein and swirled my tongue around the part where the shaft met the tip.

  Orlando hissed through his teeth. “Lilah.”

  “Don’t tell me you’re going to cum.”

  “N-no.”

  “Good.” Securing him firmly by the base, I slipped him between my lips and opened my mouth wide to accommodate his girth.

  He threw his head back and howled. Pride swelled in my chest and pleasure flooded my core. An unexpected response, but most welcome. Orlando must have known he was more than a mouthful because he kept still, not thrusting his hips like Sammy might have done to reach the back of my throat.

  I pumped my hand up and down his shaft, while bobbing my head back and forth along his tip and the first three or four inches. All the while, Orlando made deep, shuddering sounds that turned me on so much that fluid trickled down my inner thighs.

  Until now, I hadn’t thought that being in control could be so arousing, but Orlando’s noisy restraint made heat pool in my sex and made my core muscles clench with a hunger to be filled.

  His thigh muscles tightened, and he moaned something incoherent about getting close. I could stop now and mount him or let him climax, knowing that he would last ages the second round.

  Humming around my mouthful, I quickened my pace, making the muscles beneath me quiver. Then without so much of a warning, Orlando’s hips rose, and he erupted with a roar.

  Warm, thick fluid hit the back of my throat. I swallowed again and again around my mouthful until his body went slack.

  “Bloody hell,” Orlando said through panting breaths. “I never imagined it could be so good.”

  I raised my head and grinned. “Take it as my way of saying thanks for last time.”

  He pulled me onto his lap and pressed a kiss on my lips. “Thirsty?”

  I nodded.

  Orlando twisted around the seat, reached for the champagne bottle, and flicked off the cork with a deep pop. My heart skipped at the sound, and I fell back onto his chest with a giggle.

  “Here.” He placed the bottle to my lips.

  “Really?”

  “It’s only us drinking it, so why not?”

  The cool, sparkling liquid fizzed on my tongue and slid down my throat, replacing Orlando’s bitter taste with its crisp acidity and a hint of fruit. His large hand rubbed my back, as though encouraging me to keep drinking. My heart still raced from the excitement of sucking him off, but at least my breaths slowed.

  After gulping down several mouthfuls, I drew back from the bottle and sighed. “Thanks.”

  He took a nice, long swig before returning the bottle to the bucket. Then he turned to me and grinned. “So?”

  “So?” I smiled back.

  “Did you like my taste?”

  I leaned forward and kissed him on the lips. “Let’s just say I wouldn’t mind doing that again.”

  He chuckled, wrapping both arms around my waist and tucking me under his chin. His hands fumbled with my tie. “You’re so bloody hot.”

  “How hot?” I leaned back and raised my chin, letting him pull it loose and unbutton my shirt.

  “Scorching.” His lips grazed my neck, and he pressed warm kisses down my chest with each button he unfastened until he divested me of my shirt and blazer.

  With each press of his lips, sparks of pleasure raced toward my nipples, and I shuddered under his touch. Orlando laid me down on the leather seat, continuing those kisses to my belly button. His fingers slid into my knickers and circled my clit while I lay twitching and panting in only my bra and upturned skirt.

  He stared down at me through darkened eyes. “I want to see you naked.”

  Raising my lips, I let him unbutton my skirt and whisk it to the floor. “Better?”

  His gaze lingered on the patch of curls at the juncture of my thighs. “Fucking beautiful.”

  Before I could say anything else, Orlando positioned himself between my legs, his fevered breaths fanning across my folds. He didn’t mess about with soft licks or gentle kisses but instead held me down and swiped the flat of his tongue against my clit.

  A lash of fire swept over my slit, tearing a cry from my lips. Orlando growled and treated me to the hottest French kiss just where I needed it most. His tongue flicked up and down my clit with an urgency that made my back arch, my toes curl, and my fingers trap handfuls of his blond curls.

  It was insane. Ecstatic. Relentless. As though he’d hungered for me and had finally gotten his chance.

  My entire body turned into a ball of nerves, vibrating and quivering under Orlando’s skillful tongue. All that excitement from the blowjob coalesced behind my clit, making the organ double and swell with sensitivity.

  I bit down hard on my bottom lip, trying to stifle my sounds. It wasn’t like me to lose control, but the sensations wrung me tighter and tighter like a piece of silk about to fray under the strain. My hips shuddered, and my legs curled around his head, but he didn’t stop, didn’t waver.

  His deep groans reverberated against the muscles of my core, reminding me that this was only the first course in a long banquet of fucking. Orlando’s fingers tightened around my thighs, and he increased the pressure of his tongue making the fraying restraint I had over my body tear like a rag.

  “Bloody hell.” The words tumbled from my lips. “I’m—”

  Pleasure spread across my body like flames, starting from my core and sweeping down my legs, up my torso and into my clattering heart. I threw back my head and moaned. Orlando kept going, drawing out the climax, extending that unending pleasure until I was a crying, quaking mess.

  When the muscles of my legs melted off the bone, and my limbs finally collapsed, he scrambled on to
p of me and placed a kiss on my lips.

  “Are you alright?” he murmured.

  “That was…” My mind had lost the ability to fill the blanks.

  He kissed my forehead. “I know. There’s something about waiting so long for a girl that makes it worthwhile.”

  “You haven’t fucked me yet,” I croaked.

  Orlando wrapped his arms around my shoulders and pulled me against his chest. “Never, ever change. Right now, you are absolutely perfect.”

  I reached down to find him even harder than ever. That was the wonderful thing about boys my age. They need next to nothing to get started again. Prime, ever-ready studs, and I had two at my disposal plus a third who was saving himself but still wanted to fool around.

  Orlando reached down to his blazer jacket, fumbled around its pockets and pulled out a condom. “Want to do the honors?”

  “With these hands?” I raised my arms, letting him see my trembling fingers.

  “Allow me.”

  Closing my eyes, I exhaled a long breath and let myself melt into the limousine’s leather seat. I knew it would be good between us, but I hadn’t expected him to be so intense. While Orlando kissed and caressed my nipples, I could feel him unrolling the condom over his dick and rising off the seat. With a happy sigh, I let my legs flop open as he positioned himself into place.

  “Lilah,” he murmured. “Are you awake?”

  I cracked open an eye. “You know that relaxed feeling you get after a massage?”

  “Oh yes?” he said with a laugh.

  “I want you to massage me from the inside-out.”

  “How do you like it?”

  “A nice and slow buildup. When I catch my breath, we’ll swap places, and I’ll give you that hard ride.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Orlando made love to me twice in the back of the limo while the driver took us around the back roads of Templar. We had to put our clothes back on for our evening of debauchery, but Orlando promised me that it would be room service all the way until morning.

  Just as we were pulling into a Tudor-style country hotel on the outskirts of the village, both our phones buzzed.

  My message was from Maxwell:

  The staff are meeting tonight. Something huge is about to happen in the dining room.

  Next, Maeve texted:

  Ambush at dinner. Where the hell are you?

  I glanced up at Orlando, meeting his confused frown. “Do you know what’s going on?”

  “Ken says they’re airing Myra Highmore’s first public interview.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “You should be at the academy in case you need to consult Mr. Burgh.”

  My gaze darted through the tinted window, to the hotel’s welcoming lobby. It was probably just like the Gravetye Manor Hotel, where Kendrick and I had stayed the night before we flew back from Gatwick.

  Orlando squeezed my hand. “If you want to spend the night here—”

  “You’re right,” I said with a sigh. “This was a brilliant idea, and for the last few hours, I forgot about the Liddells.”

  His brows rose. “You barely even knew your name.”

  I tilted my head to the side and smirked. “Talk about getting a big head.”

  Orlando knocked on the limousine’s divider and asked the driver to take us back to Templar Academy. I gave the hotel a sad glance and tried not to imagine all the things we could have done together on that four-poster bed.

  He wrapped an arm around my shoulders, pulling me into his warmth. “There’ll be other times.”

  “Dirty weekends with you guys are jinxed.”

  “It’s Thursday.”

  I slapped his chest. “You know what I mean.”

  Orlando nodded. “Soon, the Liddells will be too busy dealing with my grandfather’s lawyers to bother with either you or Mr. Burgh.”

  “Are his pockets really that deep?” I asked.

  “He’s a frugal old fucker and will put up the funds to get things going. But if he wins, the Liddells will have to pay his legal fees.”

  “I hadn’t thought about that.”

  Orlando hummed. “There’s absolutely no way he can lose. Even if the Liddells claim that Elizabeth was just a pawn and didn’t know about the cocaine, countless girls will give witness statements saying the opposite.”

  “And there’s those two boys and Myra.”

  “Exactly,” Orlando said. “Worst case scenario, the defense barrister blames the staff, but the academy’s owners are still held responsible for protecting children from class A drugs.”

  My stomach tightened with dread. “Yeah.”

  Orlando placed his fingers under my chin and tilted my head up to meet his. “What’s wrong?”

  “What if they blame Mrs. Campbell and Mr. Burgh?”

  “The employees?” he said. “Don’t forget the amount of times Lady Liddell meddled in the running of the academy. I’m sure our headteachers sent out the relevant letters to her parents, recommending her expulsion.”

  All the tension left my insides in an outward breath. He was right. We had absolutely nothing to fear.

  The limousine pulled into the academy’s front steps at five, an hour before the dinner bell. By now, all the hallways were deserted as most of the students preferred to spend time socializing in their common rooms or doing homework in their study bedrooms. We walked into the tuck shop to the mingled scents of coffee and hot chocolate and found Gideon on an armchair, reading a thick tome with the twins.

  Students filled the sofas, enjoying pre-dinner teas and coffees, and the line for the vending machines curled around the room.

  Maxwell was the first to notice us and nudged his brother to make some space. Kendrick shuffled to the other end of the sofa. Orlando and I walked around the mazes of sofas and low tables to take my seat between the twins, while Orlando perched on its arm, next to Maxwell.

  I turned to Kendrick. “What’s this about Myra? I heard there was an ambush.”

  He reached into the pocket of his blazer and pulled out his smartphone. “Yesterday, the TV guide said that Glasgow Tonight would broadcast something about the crumbling state of the Tolbooth Steeple. After lunch, I heard rumors that they’d changed their schedule.”

  The online TV guide said: Live interview with Myra Highmore, on the state of today’s youth.

  My brows rose. “Is that even legal? I thought people accused of crimes weren’t allowed to give interviews.”

  Gideon shook his head. “The reporters are taking advantage of the poor girl and are marketing the live broadcast as general chatter. Do you know she has no living parents?”

  “Oh.” My entire posture sagged against the sofa. “I’d heard her mum died… Who’s taking care of her?”

  “The state, apparently,” he drawled.

  My lips tightened. The time I spent in foster care told me everything I needed to know about the effectiveness of British social services. I wouldn’t let those lazy bullshitters take care of a feral rat, let alone a child.

  The doors opened, and Maeve walked in, flanked by two girls I recognized from Fashion and Textiles. They were also the pair whose bodies Elizabeth had disparaged the first day I’d met the girl.

  “Hey, everyone.” Maeve placed her hands on her hips. “The show starts in half an hour, but I’ve arranged for a projector and speakers in the dining hall.”

  Cheers erupted across the common room, and students rose to their feet.

  I turned to Maxwell and grinned. “I guess it’s time for dinner theater.”

  We followed the horde of students down the corridors and through the dining hall’s double doors, where behind the head table stood the same projector Elizabeth used the day she exposed all my secrets to the academy. The servers had already placed huge bowls piled with mozzarella salad in the middle of each table, and looked ready to dish out the main course.

  Maxwell slung an arm over my shoulder. “It looks like they don’t want to tie themselves up serving food during the show.”


  “It’s a testament to how much the staff admires the headmaster,” said Gideon. “Nobody should withstand such a level of harassment and defamation.”

  “Hear, hear,” said Kendrick.

  We took our usual seats in the middle of the room, giving us a good view of the screen. Gideon and Kendrick, who sat opposite, would need to twist around for the broadcast, but that wouldn’t matter so much since we had half an hour to get through our meal.

  Servers raced to the tables, dishing out portions of lasagne with asparagus and roasted carrots. I exchanged a smile with Gideon, but neither of us spoke. For once, it looked like things with the Liddells were sorting themselves out without our intervention.

  Someone hissed, followed by gasps and muffled chuckles. Elizabeth stepped into the dining room with her nose in the air.

  “It looks like nobody told her about the change in scheduling,” muttered Maxwell.

  “She says television is plebeian,” said Kendrick.

  Elizabeth turned to me with a smirk. “In a few days, I’ll make you beg to return my betting slip.”

  I tilted my head to the side and mocked her haughty accent. “Whatever are you talking about?”

  She continued to her table and raised a hand. A pair of servers rushed to her side, where she ordered both the vegetarian and meat options of the lasagna.

  My brows drew together. “Is she eating for two?”

  Kendrick frowned but didn’t comment.

  Excited chatter filled the room throughout the meal. As soon as the servers cleared away the plates, they brought blocks of chocolate-covered ice cream wrapped in brown paper. Elizabeth demanded four and left them to melt on the plate.

  “She isn’t even eating anything,” I muttered.

  “It’s what she does when upset,” Kendrick said under his breath.

  The lights dimmed, and Maeve walked to the head table. “Good evening, Templar Academy!”

  Everyone burst into a round of applause, making her raise both hands.

  “I want to thank the people who brought tonight’s showing to our attention.” She nodded in the direction of our table. Behind her, the screen flared to life, revealing the opening credits to a show I’d never watched. “Without further preamble, here is Glasgow Tonight.”