by Alley Ciz
With the same kind of familial affection that earned him the Uncle Chuck title, he places a kiss on my forehead, telling me he’ll see me out there, and leaves.
I should follow, but I need to take a breath—a non-literal one—and I beeline it for my en suite, moving to the sink to run cold water over the insides of my wrists. Elbows braced on the speckled granite of the countertop, I lean forward until my body is bent at an almost ninety-degree angle.
Breathe, Savvy, I remind myself again. It’s something so simple, a biological function most everybody—including me—does unconsciously. The powerlessness that comes with needing to remind myself to do something so basic is as crippling as an asthma attack itself.
I let the tap run for a solid minute before twisting it off and drying my hands with the towel hanging on the wall. God, what I wouldn’t give to be able to go back down to the seventh floor and hang with Tessa’s family again instead of my own. If I did that, I wouldn’t be constantly teetering on the verge of an attack, that’s for sure.
I turn, staring at the closed door to the bathroom while I take another pause to reset my emotions. My eyes fall closed and my chest expands as I pull in the fullest breath I can to carry me through the next few hours. A full eight-count passes as oxygen travels in through my nose then out my mouth.
I blink the room back into focus. Despite the lingering weakness in my legs—another side effect of my symptoms—I feel resettled.
Time for dinner.
It’s a meal; I can handle it.
Just a few more hours—tops.
CHAPTER 32
Duke drags me to the bar while I try, and mostly fail, to not think about Samantha with Chuck…alone.
A few minutes pass as my mom and Mrs. Delacourte pull us into a conversation about…I couldn’t even tell you with my thoughts fully focused down the hall.
The bartender pours our drinks before I finally have enough. Thank god Duke can read me as well off the ice as on because he distracts the adults for me to make my escape.
Somehow I’m slick enough to go unnoticed, and I stalk down the hall to the room I saw Samantha and the mayor disappear into.
I’m not sure if I’m more grateful for the door not being shut because it means they are less likely to be fucking each other, or because it makes it possible for me to hear snippets of their conversation.
It’s the former, but we’ll pretend it’s the latter.
“This is the part I’m struggling to understand—” Samantha’s still slightly raspy voice filters out to me, cutting off suddenly when a shift of my weight has a floorboard creaking and I step back to not be seen.
After a pause, I move back in place just in time to see Chuck kiss Samantha’s forehead.
Black.
I see black.
I clench my hands into fists, ready to start throwing punches for a girl I have no official claim over.
Except…
When Chuck steps out, the motherfucker smirks upon seeing me standing out in the hall, shaking his head and leaving without a word.
That was…odd.
I’m ready to lay into Samantha in the most epic blowup, but when I enter the room, it’s empty.
Where the hell did she go?
The sound of running water hits my ears, and I wait for her to be done in the bathroom.
And wait…
I have no idea what I’m going to say or why I’m even in here, but none of that matters.
The door opens, and the second I see her, animal instinct takes over.
Mine.
I’m on her in an instant. My hand wraps around her throat and I spin her, slamming her back against the wall.
Both her hands fly up to wrap around my wrist. I ignore the bite of her nails as they dig into my skin, relishing the way her eyes flare wide in panic.
My grip loosens, squeezing but no longer cutting off airflow, maintaining my control. I step into the final bit of space between us, my forearm flat against her chest as my other arm moves to sandwich it on the other side.
Her lips part as she sucks in ragged breath after ragged breath, my gaze locked on her tempting glossed lips while I inhale her sweet lime scent.
I hold her there, the curl of my fingers pressing into the underside of her jaw until I have every ounce of focus from those purple irises on me, where it belongs.
“You.” I press closer. “Need to stop playing games,” I command, my voice like gravel.
Samantha rolls her eyes, her mascara-coated eyelashes brushing against the crease of her eyelids from the force. “Who says I’m playing games?”
She’s acting innocent with her question, but all I hear is that goddamn defiance that drives me insane. She drives me insane.
“I fucking mean it, Samantha.”
“Well in that case…”
Fucking hell. I’m the one in the position of power here. Would it kill her to agree with me? My hand is literally wrapped around her throat. All it would take is a squeeze of it and I could choke the life out of her. Does she care? Except for the sting of what I’m sure are going to be crescent-shaped wounds on my wrist, I would say no.
Why is it so hot?
My dick is harder than it’s ever been, and it’s about fucking time I do something about it—time she does something about it.
I kick her feet apart with one of mine, instantly stepping into the small space I create and bringing our bodies flush from chest to pelvis, her heaving tits flattening against me with every labored breath.
Bending my knee, I grind my thigh into her, the heat from her pussy burning me. My lips curl into a grin. She’s wet—for me, from me.
I tilt her chin another hairbreadth, my eyes locked on hers, not blinking while I devour her with my gaze as I lean down until my lips brush hers. We’ve been in a similar position multiple times before, this almost kissing but not quite.
“I’m dying to taste you, Princess.”
She shifts, the movement minuscule but enough that it’s only the corners of our mouths touching now. “And I’ll die before I ever let that happen, Noble.”
Son of a bitch. Always with the Noble shit.
My jaw moves along hers. “Wanna bet?” I flick the skin behind her ear with my tongue, letting my piercing drag a second longer. I wait for her to argue again, but it never comes. I do get a moan of acceptance.
I press my lips to her neck, biting around the vein pulsing erratically, kissing down the length of it.
I rake my teeth across her collarbone, grinding my thigh onto her pussy again, followed by a thrust of my hips, my dick leaking precum inside my boxer briefs at the contact with her soft belly.
“No—” I freeze at the choked word until she finishes, “—ble.”
My free hand curves around her nape, my long fingers stretching behind her head, tangling in her hair. Straightening to my full height, I fist her long locks and tug sharply, the crown of her head thunking against the wall.
“Jasper,” I command.
Nothing. She stays silent. Brows rising as if to say Nice try.
She. Is. Infuriating.
With a growl, I slam my mouth down on hers in a kiss so brutal our teeth clash. Releasing her throat, I hook my arm behind her back, my hand curling around to the front of her, grabbing her just beneath a tit and hauling her body up closer to mine, forcing her onto her toes.
She hisses from the pain of her hair being pulled, and I steal the opportunity to plunge my tongue inside her mouth.
I kiss, bite, lick, and suck, fucking her mouth with every part of mine so thoroughly not even amnesia could make her forget it.
Her hands are trapped between us, but that doesn’t stop her from fisting them in my shirt when she starts to kiss me back.
There she is.
I let her tongue find mine, rolling it against hers and licking inside her mouth, consuming the essence of her taste.
Before she can take control, I break the kiss, lowering her down until her feet are back to being fl
at on the ground.
Her eyes slowly blink open, lust burning in her gaze behind blown-wide pupils. Her skin is flushed, her breathing rapid, and if I thought her lips tempted me before, they have nothing on what they look like now, swollen after being ravaged by mine.
“Jasper,” I instruct.
“Noble,” she counters.
I run my tongue along the front of my teeth and cup both sides of her neck as I debate how best to break her to get what I want again.
“Fine.” I stroke both thumbs down the center of her throat, feeling her swallow beneath them as I do. “We’ll play it your way.”
A little V forms between her brows as she tries to work out what I mean. My palms glide over the curves of her shoulder, her eyes bouncing between mine as I take my time.
It isn’t until my thumbs hook inside the edge of her dress that I make my move, yanking down until her tits spill free. There’s also the added benefit of her arms being trapped at her sides thanks to the way the material folds down, cutting her off at the elbows in a restricting band.
“Noble,” she warns.
I tsk. “Wrong again, Princess.” I cup both her breasts, thumbing her nipples and twisting until she hisses.
I push and squeeze, maneuvering until I have both in one hand, keeping control of both them and her by clamping the now erect buds between my fingers.
Maintaining my hold, I take one step back and palm myself through my slacks while I study her at my mercy and debate how I want to take her.
Bending, I drop to a knee, letting one of her tits fall free while the other fills my palm completely, and use it to pin her in place.
There are so many ways I could take her. The hours I could spend showing her the error of her ways and teaching her why it’s to her benefit to utter those two syllables I want to hear… Unfortunately, now is not the time. Who knows how long I have before someone comes looking for us.
I lift the bottom of her skirt and damn near come on the spot at the teeny tiny purple panties that greet me. They sit low, the jut of both hip bones visible above the skinny string encircling them, the front panel a shade darker than the rest of the lace, giving away how much Samantha wants me.
“Tell me no,” I challenge, pressing a finger to the front of her pussy and flicking over the hard metal of that sexy-as-fuck piercing she has hidden underneath. “Samantha,” I growl. I’m not playing fair, and I know it. I’m demanding consent but touching without waiting for it. I’d feel guilty if it weren’t for the way her legs are trembling on either side of me. “This is your only chance.” I draw a T on her clit, the mini ball bearings on her piercing punctuating how I cross the letter. “Tell. Me.”
“No…” Her lips quirk. “…ble.”
Fucking hell.
That’s the last time I accept my last name falling from her lips. Her hands thread into my hair, and that’s good enough for me. I hook a finger in the lace, tugging it to the side with enough force to hear a stitch pop.
I seal my mouth over her, my tongue lapping at her from entrance to the top of her clit, biting and sucking the piercing between my teeth.
“Noble.”
My efforts instantly double, hissing as she yanks on my hair and I spear her with two fingers, scissoring them and drinking down the gush of wetness like sweet honey. The tightness that greets me has my eyes falling closed, her walls hugging my digits like a fist.
In. Out.
My tongue works her over as I stretch her with each pump of my fingers.
She swells, her walls beginning to flutter, and I can tell she’s close. “Say my name,” I demand against her pussy.
“No—”
I look up the length of her body: back arched, pink nipples standing at attention, head thrown back as her torso rolls like a wave, hips thrusting her center against me harder, seconds away from coming.
“—ble.”
Fucking hell.
A cry falls from Samantha as I rip myself away and jump to my feet. I curl my hands around her shoulders and spin her around to face the wall, crushing her against it.
“I was about to come,” she complains.
I’m well aware. I press a hand between her shoulder blades, forcing her back to arch, and flip her skirt to rest above the swell of her ass before spanking one of the pale cheeks. Leaning in until my chin rests on her shoulder, I whisper in her ear, “You don’t get to come until you say my name.”
CHAPTER 33
This is wrong.
Now is neither the time nor the place.
He is not who it should be happening with.
I should put a stop to it. Ask me if I will though.
Since the end of August, my life has not been my own, others making most of my decisions for me—where I’ll live, where I’ll go to school, social engagements I’ll attend.
I wouldn’t even be here to be in this situation if it weren’t for Natalie dictating my schedule—again.
I don’t think so.
My life is spinning out of control to the point that it’s almost unrecognizable. The line my emotions have been teetering on for two months is razor thin, my asthma flaring up the worst it has in years because of it.
It seems like everyone around me is trying to tell me what to do. Natalie, Carter, the other Royals, and now Jasper Noble thinks he gets to tell me when I get to come or not.
Yeah…I repeat: I don’t think so.
The painted drywall is smooth under where my cheek pillows against it and cool when my nipples brush it with each inhalation I work to achieve.
A second slap echoes in the acoustics of the bathroom, warmth radiating from where my ass was spanked, spiking my arousal to new levels.
Most of me may not like Jasper the majority of the time, but I haven’t missed how Natalie seems to abhor him. With his tattoos, tongue ring (no matter how hard it is to see), and showing up in Chucks, a shoe I’m known to favor, he is not worthy in her eyes.
Fine by me.
Fucking Jasper will be like my own personal Fuck you to Natalie. If this asshole thinks I’m not going to get an orgasm out of it, he’s out of his mind.
I angle my chin and do my best to meet his gaze over my shoulder. His eyes have darkened like storm clouds, his hair in disarray, and his mouth shines with my juices. It’s erotic as hell, and I feel another pull deep in my core. I need him inside me.
“Noble,” I warn. “Fuck me.”
He chuckles, the sound dark and full of naughty promise. “Oh…I’m gonna fuck you, Princess.”
His knees press into the backs of my legs, keeping me pinned in place as he shrugs out of his suit jacket and lets it fall to the ground without a care.
There’s another push between my shoulder blades, his fingertips skimming down the line of my spine before he snaps his arms out and efficiently starts to roll his sleeves, his ink visible, standing out in contrast against the white fabric.
“If you want, I’ll pound you through this wall.” His hand disappears into his pocket, a foil packet pinched between his fingers when it makes a reappearance.
I swallow, lungs and heart working overtime, my adrenaline still on a high from using my inhaler earlier.
Unable to watch, I look away only to have my gaze redirected back to Jasper when he fists my hair and cranes my neck at a not-quite-natural angle, my gaze locking onto the gold foil held in his teeth.
The fabric of my dress digs into my arms uncomfortably when I bend my elbows as best I can, pressing my palms to the wall for a little bit of leverage.
My lower half is exposed, dress thrown up my back, thong still hitched to the side, air wafting against my wet center as he works first his belt then his zipper open.
Bent and held the way I am, I can’t see his cock when he pulls it free, the pang of disappointment because of it something I’ll worry about at a later date, but I sure as hell feel it as he drags it along the line where the curve of my ass meets my thigh, painting my skin in his sticky precum.
“But…�
�� He rips the condom open, sheaths himself, and lines up with my entrance. “You don’t get to come unless you say my name.”
What little breath I was able to manage is stolen from my lungs as he plunges inside me in one brutal thrust until his balls slap against me.
I attempt to bite back a moan and fail, my hands scrambling for purchase on the wall, skin too clammy to manage it with much success.
The emotional torrent, the adrenaline high, the close call of a looming attack—all of it adds up to me being one big exposed nerve ending.
My head is yanked back further, scalp burning from the roots of my hair giving a valiant effort to remain attached. I’m panting and gasping, the line of my throat curved outward, my eyes falling shut as my body goes along for the ride.
Jasper sets a punishing pace, only slowing when he feels I’m close to coming. The millisecond I’ve edged away from the brink of release, he picks up speed, the slap-slap-slap of skin on skin the background beat to the animalistic moans, groans, and curses volleyed between us.
“Say my name, Samantha.”
I can’t manage much thanks to his grip, but I shake my head as much as physically possible. If I don’t get to hear him say the name I want to hear, why should he? Don’t give me any crap about him not knowing it either.
His hold on my hip is bruising, and I bet I’ll be wearing the imprint of his fingers for days to come.
Thrust. Thrust.
The edges of my vision grow blurry.
He buries his face in the curve of my neck. “Princess,” he growls against my skin.
“Noble,” I taunt, because I can.
He releases my hip, clutching at my breast, twisting my nipple until I see stars and another wave of wetness adds to the ease at which his cock is pummeling me. I may not have decided how I feel about Jasper, but my body has zero doubts. Except…
I need to come—badly. Desperately. Like need it more than my next breath, and that’s saying something.
I’m on fire, burning up from the inside out.
He abandons my breasts, my nipples now sore enough that when they brush the wall with every pump of his hips, a spark of delicious pain streaks through me.
