“Tough, but not bright.” Pulling out one of my favorite knives, I touch the tip, watching a single bead of blood on my fingertip. “The William Henry Spearpoint has a titanium blade, razor sharp. The serrated side is especially effective in peeling the skin.”
Miles is staring at the blade. He’s trying not to react, but his fingers are twitching.
“I think you know you’re going to die. But I’m giving you a choice. A quick end, or a very, very long, agonizing one,” I continue conversationally. “You will tell me who sent you here. You will tell me your orders. How long it takes is completely up to you.”
After I make my first, long slice on the nerve-rich skin of his inner arm, I find that it doesn’t take long at all.
Back in my cottage, I pace the little deck overlooking the ocean. Most Academy faculty live in the huge stone mansion next to the Dean’s building, high-end apartments with every possible luxury. I have no patience for that, I don’t want to live cheek-by-jowl with the others. My last roommate was here at the Academy ten years ago.
Helen lightly scoffed when I told her I wanted this place for myself. “You want to live in the old shepherd’s cottage? It hasn’t been updated for years.”
“I prefer my privacy,” I shrugged.
Looking around the stone walls and windows that rattle when the wind blows through the cracks, I’d still prefer to be here with a huge fireplace, and heavy, comfortable furniture meant for someone of my size, not some cheap shite that creaks when you sit down. The bed alone would be reason enough. A mattress long enough so that my ankles don’t hang off the damn thing is rare.
Pouring a drink, I notice I didn’t get all the blood off my hands while cleaning up after my “discussion” with the guard. The shower here in the cottage is big, but it takes a long time for the water to heat and I stand at my bedroom window, watching the waves crash against the sheer cliffs as I wait.
Mala.
She is going to be a problem. What are the odds that she would be a student here at the most exclusive college on the planet? I knew that night she was too sharp, too observant to be some standard girl partying her way through University, andit intrigued me even more. I should have asked more questions instead of thinking about how good she felt under me.
How she felt… goddamn it, the heat and silk of her pussy, how insanely tight she’d gripped my cock. I wouldn’t have questioned the blood on my sheets, just assumed she was having her cycle. But she had been so snug, even though I took my time to get my dick inside her.
Steam billows from the bathroom and I force the thoughts from that night away, stepping into the shower to roughly wash and using a brush on the blood under my nails.
It’s a shame I didn’t take Mala in the shower that night, too. The image of her wet skin, gleaming in the soft light as I soaped her up… Groaning, I try to work the shampoo quickly over my hair, but the white suds spread down my chest and remind me of when I took her from behind out on my balcony. As I pulled out of her, I could see our cum, white and dripping down the inside of her thigh.
The summer breeze off the water cooled the sweat beading on our skin as I ground into her, my balls pressing tight against her slick center. Her hard little nipples poked into my chest and I bent my head, pulling one, then the other into my mouth, sucking harder than I should, but she’d give a startled squeal and then a breathy little moan each time, her hips rising up to meet me.
Using my fingers to spread her wet lips I watched my cock split her wide, over and over as her sweet cunt struggled to hold all of me. I’m not a small man, and I’m careful with my size. With her, I didn’t want to be. I wanted to pummel her, listen to her scream, and feel her writhe on my cock. “Go over, Mala honey.” I sink my teeth into her shoulder. “Come for me.”
She did, gripping my dick inside her like a velvet fist and the ripple of her walls along me made me come, too, spurting and groaning and rising on the balls of my feet to push inside her higher, harder.
My head is tilted against the shower tile and my fist gripping my cock, squeezing it with a groan as I come hard, spurting come into the hot water. “Fuck,” I groan, pushing my wet hair back and finishing my shower. My cock is still hard enough to fuck a hole into concrete.
Mala’s a distraction I cannot allow.
Chapter Seven
In which there are knives used as an obvious metaphor for sex.
Mala…
“Why do you hate Professor MacTavish?”
Athena is walking with me to our Small Arms Instruction, eyeing me curiously. Late autumn is already sweeping over the island and I zip up my hoodie against the wind.
“What on earth brought that up?”
“You’re just the happiest thing in the world until we get to the Armory Building, and then every day, you shut down like you’re on your way to your gynecologist for a herpes treatment,” she chuckles heartlessly.
“Oddly specific, but okay,” I said. “It has nothing to do with the… professor. It’s just midway through my classes and it makes me think of everything I still have to do before the day is over.”
I’m lying. I hate looking at Cormac, his gorgeous, stupid face, and his utter indifference. The effort required to projectmyutter indifference. Every time I think of his dismissiveness that first day, the mocking comments about being “too young” to handle our night together… The shame feels like a bucket of boiling water pouring down my back.
Then, there’s the irritation at his giggling entourage of groupies that follow the man everywhere like a cloud of mosquitoes. He never seems to notice them, but their shrill giggles pierce my brain like a buzzsaw. I’ve been buying new bottles of ibuprofen weekly.
“The only thing I’m looking forward to is the Leader’s Challenge.” I’m going to move the conversation away from my dislike of our new weapons professor to the only thing the rest of the campus is talking about. “Though Liam’s pretty sure we’re all going to die.”
