by J. L. Beck
“So you didn’t eat the food then? I guess I can take it back and wipe your debt.”
Her eyes widen a tiny bit in surprise. “Well, I ate it because I was starving. So are you taking the deal or not?”
“Not… seems like a shit deal. You want me to stay out of the library for the whole school year, but I only get one hour of your time? I want more than that… much more.”
She visibly shivers. “I know I’m going to regret this later, but one hour, once a week, inside my room.”
I rub at my jaw while considering her deal. “One hour, once a week. That still sounds like you’re winning, and I’m losing.”
Her little jaw tightens, and flames of fire flicker in her eyes. My cock grows harder. Even her anger turns me on.
“I’m not giving you more than that.”
“Hmm… one hour, once a week, but I’m in charge the entire time. You have to do whatever I want without complaining.”
“Fine, but you agree to stay out of here. You won’t show up whenever you want and harass me. This will be my safe place. You promise?” Her face hardens as she looks up at me.
“I don’t make promises, but I also don’t go back on my word. You follow through on your end, and I’ll follow through on mine.”
“Deal, now get out.” She pushes me backward, and while she barely moves me, I pretend I’m going to tip over.
“If you wanted to get physical, all you had to do was say so.”
“Quinton,” she growls.
I back away slowly. “It’s okay. I’ll save it for another day.” I wink at her, and she glares.
It’s funny how much she acts like she hates me, but when we’re alone in her room, and it’s just the two of us, she melts like butter in my hands. In a way, I’m giving us both a reprieve. I get one hour of control, and she gets one hour to let go and pretend we aren’t enemies.
“Nice seeing you, Brittney,” I call over to the librarian, looking past Aspen and straight at Brittney. Her eyes are narrowed like she’s trying to figure me out. She never will, no one can. Not even I know what the hell I’m going to do next. I give her a little wave, which she doesn’t return. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Aspen begging me with her eyes to leave.
It might take some finessing, but I’m determined. I’ll get the answer I need, regardless of whether or not my father wants me to have them.
24
ASPEN
By the time I reach my dorm room, I’m exhausted. I toss my books on the desk and strip out of my clothes and hop into the shower. The water takes forever to get warm, but once it does, I stand beneath the spray for ten minutes, unwinding. I barely made it through PE today, and history had me wanting to gouge my eyes out. Quinton never showed up for PE, and I didn’t want to think about how that made me feel.
Matteo was there, though, and his watchful eyes were on me the entire time. He didn’t say anything, but I know he wanted to. If I could get away with driving a knife straight into his chest, and if I was violent enough to do it, I would.
Giving myself time to relax, I slowly wash my hair and body and shave my legs. By the time I’m finished, the water is cold, and I step out, wrapping a scratchy towel around my body and a second towel around my hair.
I’ve just taken a step into my bedroom when the door flies open, and Quinton stumbles inside, his head bowed and his face hidden. His sudden appearance shocks me, and I stand there staring at his wobbling frame for a full second before I say anything.
“A knock would be appreciated every once in a while,” I say, realizing a moment too late that I’m in nothing more than a towel and that I owe him one hour a week, which I haven’t given him yet. I take a step back, and a shiver that acts more as a warning slithers down my spine.
“I’m pretty sure I’ve told you more than once your mouth will be your biggest downfall,” Quinton sneers, his voice smoky, and when he looks up, I gasp at the sight of his face.
His lip is busted and bleeding, and his normal icy blue eyes are hazy like he’s under the influence of something, which would explain the stumbling.
“What happened?”
He shakes his head. “Don’t ask questions you don’t want answers to, and believe me, you don’t want me to answer this.” Moving with lightning speed, he invades my space. His usual intense woodsy scent filling my lungs, followed by the smell of beer.
“You’ve been drinking,” I squeak out just as his fingers skim the edge of my towel.
“Thank you, captain obvious, now lose the towel so I can fuck you. We’ve only got an hour.”
I blink, trying to figure out when I ever agreed to fuck him. I did say one hour, whatever he wants, but I didn’t think he would jump so fast into wanting sex.
“Look, Quinton,” I start, but he’s got the towel ripped away, his hand over my mouth, and my body pressed into the mattress beneath his before I can get another word out.
I’m held captive by his penetrating gaze.
He smiles down at me, his body pressing into mine roughly. His eyes are blazing; anger and defeat swim deep in the depths. With his hand still firmly over my mouth, all I can do is look at him and feel his rage threatening to spill out onto me.
“I don’t care that you’re a virgin. I don’t care about anything, actually. I’m going to fuck you hard and fast. I don’t want you to say a fucking word when I remove my hand. Do you understand me?”
The muscles in my stomach tighten, and anxious energy works its way through my body. I shake my head and plead with nothing more than my eyes. Quinton’s brows pinch together, his anger mounting.
“What do you mean, no?” He pulls his hand away, though it’s still in the air.
He’s never hit me, and while I don’t think he would, it’s hard to trust him when he’s sober, let alone drunk.
“You’re drunk, and I’m… I’m not ready.” I look away shyly, refusing to acknowledge that I’m stark-ass naked, and his rock-hard cock is digging into my thigh.
Laughter fills the room, but it’s a mocking kind. “Did you not hear what I just said?” He growls. The palm of his hand comes down on my breast, the slap vibrates through my body, the sting registering somewhere in my mind. It doesn’t really hurt and is more shocking than anything.
When he grabs my nipple between two fingers and twists it hard, pain follows.
“Stop,” I hiss, and even though there is pain, there is also a small smoldering fire in my belly from the action.
“We both know you don’t want me to stop.” His eyes move down over my body, and he slaps a hand against my thigh. “Open your legs and keep them open while I undo my pants. If you close them, you won’t like what happens.”
The warning is clear: disobey, and you’ll pay the consequences.
I swallow past a knot of fear in my throat. Maybe I can get him to come, and he’ll leave me alone? I spread my legs apprehensively, watching him as he undoes his jeans and shoves them down his muscular thighs.
My heart beats out of my chest, and when his cock comes into view, my throat tightens. The thick mushroom head is an angry purple, and he’s so hard he’s standing at attention between my thighs. I’m not ready for him to take my virginity, even if he says it belongs to him.
“Quinton.” I whimper when he grabs my thighs, his fingers digging into the flesh, and I know there will be bruises there tomorrow.
His hot stare is centered on my pussy, and he lifts his gaze, trailing it all the way up the length of my body. It’s obvious what he is thinking and what he wants.
“Do you need me to gag you, or are you going to shut your mouth?” His mood seems to be getting fouler, and I don’t know how to handle him when he’s like this. This isn’t about control. There is something deeper here, something heartbreaking. Today isn’t about controlling me and getting me to comply. Today is about hurting me and taking whatever he can get.
“Quinton, you said you wouldn’t hurt me.” I try to reason with him, but he shakes his head almost angrily
. Pressing me against the bed with his still mostly clothed body, the head of his cock brushes against my entrance. I’m not wet enough for him, and I’m afraid he’s just going to enter me without thinking, so I place my hands on his shoulders and give him a push.
The rageful expression he gives me turns me to ash, and he moves forward, his cock pressing into my entrance. Panic grips me by the throat, and pain spears my lower abdomen. I can’t anticipate what will happen next.
Of all the times Quinton has taken from me, it’s never felt like this. Even in those instances when he was in control, I still felt some form of power. I still felt that I was on the same level as him.
“You promised me one hour and said I could have whatever I wanted and do whatever I wanted. Are you going back on that promise? Because if you do, I’ll take mine back too. I’ll be in the library every day, and I won’t stand in Matteo’s way. Maybe I’ll give him back the key card, and he can come to your room instead of me. Is that what you want?” The anger in his voice makes me pause. He’s piss and vinegar, and I don’t have it in me to fight back against him today.
I twist my head to the side to hide the tears building in my eyes, and I whisper, “No.” The word comes out so soft I’m afraid he can’t even hear me. “I just… I can’t do this tonight. Please, Quinton, please.”
As soon as I turn to face him, the tears fall, the wet drops slide down my cheeks in unison. I hate allowing him to see me this broken, but maybe that’s what he needs. Maybe knowing his toy is broken will stop him from continuing forward tonight.
His beautiful lips curl with disgust, and he pulls away, running a hand through his silky black hair. I can see the rapid rise and fall of his chest. Feel his pain, and I wonder what happened today to make him this way?
He turns away from me and slams his fist into the brick wall beside the bed. The wall doesn’t give, and Quinton pulls his hand away with a grimace. I sit up, ready to come to his aid, but choose not to when he turns on me.
With a snarl, he grabs me by the arm and pushes me down to my knees on the floor. The sudden movement makes me dizzy.
“This will be the one and only time I let you tap out. Don’t ever ask me to stop again because I won’t. Now suck my cock like you mean it. Prove to me that your mouth is better than your virgin pussy, or I’ll change my mind and fuck you anyway.”
All I can do is gulp.
I wet my lips, and Quinton spears his fingers through my hair. Pain lances across my scalp as he pulls me forward, holding me in place while he brings his cock to my lips.
He gives me no time to prepare and slips between my lips, a ragged sigh filling the air as his cock hits the back of my throat, and I gag. I breathe through my nose and try to prepare myself for his next thrust. He pulls out and pushes back in again.
“Look at me while I fuck your throat. I want to see the tears as they slip down your cheeks.” His grip on my hair tightens, and I do as he instructs, looking up at him through my lashes. I hate that I grow wet at the look of possession in his eyes.
He doesn’t own me, not even a little bit, but this side of me wants him to. Holding me in place, he thrusts his hips forward, fucking my mouth and throat. Saliva dribbles out the side of my mouth with his quick movements, and my eyes water, the salty tears sliding down my cheeks without permission.
With pleasure in his eyes, he watches them, smiling like the devil while he continues using me as a source for his own demented satisfaction.
Just like in the hallway when he first forced me to do this, his focus is on me, and I can’t look away, not even while knowing he is using me and that I mean nothing to him.
“Fuck, you look so gorgeous with my cock stuffed in your mouth. Maybe I’ll do this more often since it seems your mouth is what gets you into the most trouble.”
Anything I might say would be muffled, so I don’t bother responding. Quinton smirks and pinches one of my nipples between his fingers. There is a tinge of pain, followed by pleasure that zings straight to my core. I’m ashamed to admit that I want him, even in those instances when I say I don’t. Deep down, there is a twisted part of me that only he brings out, that wants him.
“Just like that. Take me deep…” He presses all the way into the back of my throat and holds himself there, and for a second, I can’t breathe. Panic starts to bubble to the surface of my mind right as he pulls back, and I inhale oxygen deep into my lungs as he pulls out.
He does this over and over again, his own pleasure rising up until he’s close to coming. Without warning, he pulls himself from my mouth and fists his cock in his hand. All I can do is watch, saliva dribbling down my chin and my heart racing. I don’t care how I look right now. My only focus is watching Quinton reach the finish line.
“Watch me…” He grits the words through his teeth. I don’t dare look away, and with a roar, he explodes. Hot ropes of cum land on my breasts, and a soft gasp escapes my lips at the contact. Quinton continues coming, stroking himself until he grows soft.
When he pulls away and sags against the wall, I push off the floor and walk into the bathroom to clean myself up. I grab a washcloth, wet it, and wipe myself down.
Then I clean my face and return to the bedroom to find Quinton stripped down to his boxers, lying on my bed. He can’t seriously think he is going to have a sleepover.
I scurry across the room and grab a pair of panties and a shirt.
“I think you should leave,” I say once I’m dressed.
The way he’s lying on my bed, like he was meant to be there, makes me feel strange.
“I’m not done with you yet, so I’m not really sure why you put clothes on. It’s not like you’ll be needing them for what we’re going to do.”
“Need I remind you, we only agreed to sex stuff one hour a week.”
He rolls his eyes and pats the bed. “Rules were meant to be broken.”
“You have your own room and I’m not comfortable with you being here. You can’t sleep in here.”
“I can sleep wherever I want, and just so you know, it’s better if you don’t let your enemy know the things that make you uncomfortable. They’ll use it against you, every time.”
“It’s almost like you have experience in being someone’s worst nightmare.” I’m dragging my feet about crawling into bed with him. Quinton can’t be trusted. He’s a risk to my mind and body in more ways than one. I look around the room, trying to find a spot to sleep.
“Get in the bed and go to sleep, Aspen.” Impatience drips off his lips.
“Thanks for giving me a choice.”
“We’re sleeping, nothing more. Now get in the bed, or I’ll break the rules and fuck you right now.”
“You know that doesn’t make me feel any better.”
“Aspen!” he growls, and against my better judgment, I walk across the room and climb onto the bed. Quinton moves over a bit, giving me enough room to lie down, but there is not enough room in a twin-sized bed to leave space between us. I grab the blanket from the end of the bed and pull it up over us.
“I just want you to know…”
Quinton interrupts me before I can finish my sentence. “Shut up, or I’ll gag you.”
I don’t dare test that he’ll do it. Instead, I press my head into my pillow a little harder and swallow my words. Silence settles around us. Even as anxious as I’m feeling right now, exhaustion wins out, and it doesn’t take long for Quinton’s body heat to envelop me, lulling me into darkness.
25
QUINTON
Before I even open my eyes, I notice three things.
One, I’m warmer than normal in a cozy, comfortable way.
Two, I feel oddly rested as though I’ve slept longer than usual.
And three, everything hurts. There is a dull ache in my head, and my hand feels like I punched a concrete wall. Then I remember… I did.
Fuck.
I had no intention of drinking as much as I did or getting into a fight. Or coming here after. I didn’t plan any of
it, but I just couldn’t take it any longer. The pain was too much, and I didn’t care about the consequences. All I wanted was for the pain to stop.
One by one, memories from last night pop back into my head.
Nash passes me the bottle of bourbon that he, Ren, and I are drinking. My head is swimming with thoughts that refuse to go away. The weight of losing her is suffocating me. She’s dead, and nothing will ever bring her back. I can’t breathe or think. I’m barely functioning right now, and I don’t know how to stop feeling everything I’m feeling. I want to shut it off. At the same time, I don’t want to forget her. I don’t want another day or minute to go by without her.
Nobody tells you that grief is like living two lives, one where you’re forced to move on and go day by day living, and the other where your heart bleeds with every thump. A wound that will never heal.
“Let’s play a game,” Nash exclaims.
“Boo! Nobody likes your games,” I slur, feeling the effects of the bourbon. The numbness that encompasses me is something I’ve craved for months.
“No, seriously, let’s play. You get one hour alone with Anja or Aspen. Who you fucking?”
“That’s easy. While Aspen is easy on the eyes and would probably be an easy lay. I bet she’s a virgin. Plus, she’s a rat. I’m not going to fuck the enemy, so I’m going with Anja,” Ren explains.
Both Ren and Nash break out in laughter. My lips press into a firm line, and I decide I’m not even going to touch this one and instead take a huge gulp from the bottle of liquor. The brown liquid stopped burning a long time ago, but I can’t tell if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.
“What about you, Q, you fucking Aspen or Anja?” Nash questions.
Ren is smiling smugly from where he sits. He knows I’m a little infatuated with Aspen, but he has no idea how deep any of this goes.
