She looks shocked at herself, her eyes wide, lips swollen and stained with my blood. But there’s something else there too—a flash of heat in her eyes that she can’t disguise.
“Get out,” she whispers, but there’s no conviction behind it.
I laugh, licking the blood from my lip. “Not a fucking chance.”
I grab her wrists and pin them above her head with one hand, using my body to keep her trapped against the wall. With my free hand, I grip her jaw, forcing her to look at me.
“You want to play rough? I can play rough.” I trace my bleeding lip with my tongue, watching her eyes track the movement. “You want me. Now you’ve got my blood in you, in more ways than one huh? In your mouth, in your veins. You wanna sin with me, baby?”
“I don’t want you,” she hisses, but her body betrays her. Her nipples are hard against my chest, her hips unconsciously seeking friction against mine.
“Liar.” I lower my head to her throat, dragging my teeth over the spot where my mark stains her skin. “Your body knows what it wants, even if your stubborn brain refuses to admit it out loud.”
She’s like a wounded animal, beautiful and dangerous, ready to lash out or surrender completely. She wants me just as badly as I want her, but she’s still clinging to the lie that we’re siblings.
A lie I could destroy with five simple words:You are not my sister.
But I don’t. Not yet. That knowledge is my weapon, and I’ll wield it when it serves me best.
Instead, I release her wrists and step back, watching her chest heave as she tries to catch her breath. Her lips are still stained with my blood, her eyes wild and unfocused. I could push her further, take what we both want right now on the floor of her dorm room. But that’s not the game I’m playing.
I back away and walk out of her closet and into her room toward her door to leave before calling out, “I expect you at the game tonight and I expect you in a jersey. Team spirit and all that.” I pause with my hand on the doorknob. “And Seraphina, don’t even think about denying me...you won’t like what happens.”
Part of me hopes she does defy me. Punishment will be so sweet…for me.
Chapter 12
Seraphina
Iscream into my pillow until my throat feels like I’ve swallowed glass, but it doesn’t fucking help. Nothing helps. I can still taste Lucien’s blood on my lips, still feel the hard press of his body against mine, still smell his cologne clinging to my skin. I want to burn it all off.
Punching the pillow, I imagine it’s Lucien’s stupidly perfect face.
“Fucking asshole!” I shriek into the cotton, my voice breaking. “Conceited, controlling, psychotic BASTARD!”
I flip onto my back and stare at the ceiling, chest heaving. The closet door is still open, those goddamn uniforms hanging there like a row of red-accented middle fingers. And those jerseys—those fucking jerseys with his name on them. Like I’m his property. Like I’m his little cheerleader girlfriend instead of his goddamn sister.
Half-sister. Whatever. It still makes this whole thing sick and wrong, and illegal.
The worst part—the absolute worst fucking part—is that I wanted him. When he pinned me against that wall, when his mouth was on mine, my body betrayed me completely. Mynipples hardened, my pussy actually clenched, and for one humiliating second, I kissed him back.
“What the fuck is wrong with me?” I whisper to the empty room, pressing the heels of my hands against my eyes until I see stars.
I roll over and grab my phone, checking the time. The basketball game starts in four hours. Plenty of time to shower, change, and be literally anywhere else on campus except the gym. Fuck his threats. Fuck his jersey. Fuck him.
My phone buzzes with a text, and I almost throw it across the room when I see his name.
Unknown
Changed my mind. Wear the dress. I want to see those legs as I get my first triple double of the season.
“Fuck you,” I mutter, typing exactly that and hitting send. And fuck your triple double whatever the hell that even is.
I can’t help myself and I look it up. Blah blah blah basketball. When a player gets double digits in three out of five statistical categories in a single game. Okay, well, I hope you choke and don’t even get a single double digit then. Lucifer doesn’t deserve any accolades.
That can be arranged after the game. Just call me the number one sister fucker. I aim to please my family.
He’s so fucking disgusting. The ire I feel for him could fuel this entire dorm building at this point.
