His eyes widen in surprise. I don’t know if it’s because I’m fighting back or because he didn’t expect Maddox to share their secret.
“You could come with me, you know,” I say in a bolt of inspiration. “Tell your side of the story in the way you want to. Let the police decide if it warrants further action.”
Incredulity tunes his voice higher. “Turn myself in?”
“You keep insisting it was a mistake. Convince them and you’ll never have to worry about it again, and I’ll get the victim support I’m entitled to.”
Zane’s expression doesn’t change. I might be getting through to him.
“We could go there right now. Get it over with.”
Now I’ve voiced the idea, it’s what I want most of all. To have the truth out in the open but without me being tasked with the heavy lifting. Without having to fight against public opinion or be called a liar or told I was gagging for it.
Then he laughs, low in his throat. A sound of pure ridicule. “You want me to confess and hope they go easy on me? Risk going to prison over a coincidence whenyouwere the one trespassing?”
Suddenly, I’m far too aware of his hulking frame. His broad shoulders, his height advantage, the closeness of his body to mine.
He briefly cups my shoulder, then pulls the edge of my collar aside with his thick fingers, thumb stroking the mark he bit into my shoulder on Saturday night. The one I stared at for minutes this morning, tracing the individual indents of his teeth, marked out in blue and purple bruising.
Satisfaction flashes deep in his soulless eyes.
“I don’t mean to upset you,” he assures me in his low whisper. “But you’ll need to adjust your behaviour. I’m a royal. I can’t have you swearing at me in the corridors.” His lips crease into a smirk.
Zane’s hand moves lower, knuckles pressing against the side of my bra until my nipples tighten and my face flushes,sweaty and hot. My thighs press closer together, alleviating the sensation that arises at his touch.
“I should probably mention there’s another video. One featuring Wilder.”
He shifts position, now curling his hand around my neck, his fingertips finding the bones in my spine, rubbing against them with soft pressure that sinks a static buzz deep into my skin.
“How would your pretty blonde friend feel about that?”
The idea sends a bolt of panic straight through me. Clare and I have never had our friendship tested. I don’t know if she’d believe me over the evidence in front of her eyes.
Not when I haven’t told her anything of what happened on Saturday night.
Not when she accepted the first video without question.
Not when the loss of my phone meant I was AWOL through to Sunday afternoon.
I remember being abandoned by the people I thought were my friends. Walking through the school corridors, completely alone. The vision makes it hard to squeeze the words from my tightening throat. “Please don’t do that.”
“Toe the line and I won’t have to, but the next time you get angry, remember everyonewantsto believe me over you. Theywantto believe I’m a role model even when all evidence points to the contrary.” The rumble of his voice sends a vibration shuddering into my bones. “I could make you do anything.”
Nerves flutter where his hot breath disturbs them, sparking like electricity. My body trembles with confusion, arching towards his touch while my mind shrieks at me to move away.
When I raise my head, gasping for air, Zane’s sharp eyes study me, curiosity filling his face. “Would you enjoy that, Avon? Did you like me forcing you?”
I shiver at how he makes my name sound, rolling softly off his tongue, being savoured. I shake my head, barely managing even that slight gesture as tears brim in my eyes.
“Are you sure?” His hand shifts, thumb raising to tease lightly at my windpipe. He presses it deeper as his lips find my ear again to whisper, “Because what I remember best from Saturday is how wet you were for me.” He presses a light kiss at the top of my jaw. “How perfect it felt to sink into you.” Another one, on the lower angle. “And most of all how your virgin cunt orgasmed while wrapped so fucking tightly around my cock.”
My cheeks flush with shame at his whispered words, lower lip trembling as he nips the side of my throat.
And even quieter. “It’s all I can think about.”
The tears surge then, flooding down my face, splashing onto my blouse, soaking into the fabric. I hitch in a breath, then the sobs claim me, wracking my body until I’m dizzy, chest heaving, nerves in tatters, only standing because he has me pinned to the wall.
“Go ahead,” he murmurs. “Let it all out while no one else can see.” He rubs his cheek against mine, soaking in my tears, almost purring with satisfaction. “Don’t you want to feel that good again?”
