Slut shaming her is far too real, but it’s the first thing I latch on to.
“Melissa called,” I lie. “Thought you were with me. But you weren’t, were you?” A sick thrill flashes through me when unease flickers over her face. “You were withhim, weren’t you? Think I wouldn’t notice the way he looks at you? How you smile back at him?”
Fuck, how she struggles as I drag her over the back of the sofa. But she has her lips clamped shut, and she doesn’t make a sound when her back hits the cushions.
I walk around the sofa, catching hold of her black top as she tries to vault over the back to get away from me. The fabric is wet, silky, tight as I jerk her onto her back again.
A wild light flashes in her eyes, her lips trembling. She stops struggling, her chest rising and falling as she tries to catch her breath.
“Where were you tonight, huh? Because you sure as fuck weren’t at home!” I bellow at her.
Baring my teeth, I aim a hand for her throat again.
She knocks my hand away.
Once.
Twice.
On the third attempt, I latch onto her throat again, pushing her into the cushions so hard she chokes. Her legs drum behind me as I straddle her, and even a hard slap to her thigh doesn’t subdue her.
My cock does the trick though, when I roll my hips just the right way, and its hard length grinds against her pubic bone.
She goes still under me, only her chest hitching. Those blue eyes flicker over my face, and I bet she finds exactly the confirmation she’s looking for.
Some parts of me noticed back when she first started class. But the wiser, protective part of my psyche must have hid it from me, because it’s only now, now that I have her pinned, alone, vulnerable, at my mercy that I realize what I’d seen.
Everyone stares at Rooke when he’s presenting a lecture. But not everyone looks at him likeshedoes. And I’ve had to watch her salivate over him this entire semester already.
The vein under my thumb pulses, and I feel her throat move as she tries to swallow.
“Can’t…breathe…” she puffs out, grabbing my wrist and trying to pull my hand away from her neck.
“Nine,” I murmur.
Her eyes widen with incredulity. Like she can’t believe I’ll try choking her out just to get her to ten. Jesus, has she forgotten what happens then? I get to punish her however I want. I called it ten minutes in heaven, but it was always hell for her.
I laugh as a heady, sickening feeling coils in my lower stomach, burying itself deeper, working its way to the base of my spine.
My cock is so fucking hard it hurts.
Haven’s face slowly darkens with anger and trapped blood, but those lips are fucking sealed.
“I saw your bed,” I whisper. “All that blood on your mattress. Never knew you liked it so rough.”
Her fingernails dig into my wrists, then she slaps my arm, eyes begging me to let up so she can breathe.
“Think I don’t want to put this all behind us, baby? Start fresh? Have you forgotten how I’ve always been there for you?” I lean down, one hand still on her throat, the other smoothing damp hair away from her face.
“Who cheered you up when your dad was all strung out? Who bought you your first bra after you lied and told me you didn’t need one?”
She flinches when I pick a half-crushed leaf out of her tangled hair, and again when I stroke her tensed bottom lip.
“Have you forgotten who you belong to, Miss H?”
She whimpers when I duck down and catch her lip between my teeth, her hands grabbing at my hair to pull me away. But when I apply more pressure, she goes still.
I suck that pillowy flesh into my mouth, nip it, let it pop free. Lick her, despite how she struggles.
