Page 32 of Wicked Elites

“Don’t tell me you’re another Prakash?”

With a frown, Sebastian ran a hand through his chocolate-brown hair. “I won’t tell you that scholars compromise their principles—”

“You already have.” I balled my fists and walked out of the building into the lamp-lit campus. Thankfully, the flagstones were smooth, even if they were a little cold underfoot.

Sebastian scooped me up into his arms and held me to his chest. “I’m not having you freeze your feet off.”

The masculine scent of sandalwood and sweet cedar engulfed my senses, reminding me of the connection I had thought we’d made, and an ache formed across my heart. I don’t know why, because I had never intended to see him again, but having those strong, protective arms around my body gave me a feeling of safety and warmth—at least for the short time it took to walk across the campus.

A few students strolling around the lawn cast us glances, but nobody uttered a word.

“You don’t have to do this.” I leaned my head on his shoulder, enjoying the temporary closeness.

As soon as we crossed the threshold of the main building, he set me on my feet. “There’s nothing wrong with being on the scholarship program. You just reminded me of someone who died.”

“Corrine Gibbons?”

“You heard about her?” He lowered his brows.

“Only snippets. I’m in most classes with her brother.”

Sebastian placed a hand on the small of my back and headed toward the west wing. “A nasty piece of work, now that he’s a prefect.”

“You’re just saying that because he’s tough on bullies.”

“Probably.”

We ascended the stairs in silence. My heart thrummed a steady beat, but the lining of my stomach trembled with anticipation. What did it mean that Sebastian had come to the swimming block to rescue me? If he was anything like Leopold, then he was playing a variation of the pull-a-pig game.

Frustration rippled through my insides. He seemed so genuine, but nobody would win the game if they were upfront about their intentions.

He walked me to my door and said, “Willow, can we start again?”

Butterflies rioted in my stomach. Half of them urged me to invite him inside to finish what Leopold had started, and the other half told me to kick him in the balls.

“I don’t know.”

“Maybe it’s a bit too soon.” His gaze dropped to my lips. “At least give me a kiss for saving you.”

“One kiss?”

“Just one.” He crossed his heart.

I nodded, and he bent down to press his lips on mine. Pleasure sparked from where we touched, and I inhaled a happy sigh. Slipping his tongue between my lips, Sebastian’s arm snaked around my waist, and he threaded his fingers through my damp hair and cradled the back of my head.

Pressing me into the door, he devoured my lips with an urgent hunger that made my heart gallop. I was swimming the turbulent waters of the Sebastian Sea and didn’t mind if it pulled me under. His hot, hard erection pressed into my belly, and I let out a shuddering moan. The arm holding my waist snaked back around my front and reached for the zipper of my tracksuit.

“Wha—”

“Let me inside,” he murmured into our kiss. “I need you so much.”

Memories of Geraldine’s cash prize for taking my virginity rang in my ears and combined with Sebastian’s proposal to have sex and split the money. My mind had been so muddled with lust and gratitude that I had forgotten that Sebastian still hadn’t denied playing the pull-a-pig game.

I reached down and cupped his erection through his school uniform pants. It felt as wonderfully thick as Leopold’s had looked.

Sebastian threw his head back and hissed. “Let’s go inside.”

My hand slipped down to balls as firm as plums, and I wrapped my fingers around them and squeezed.