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“Please . . . it’s—it’s not enough, Tor.”

A haze of red covers my eyes for a moment, because I know what she’s asking for. I do want to fuck her. I want to push inside her so bad it feels like I’ll die if I don’t. And yet—

“You’re not mine anymore, Lil.”

“I don’t care,” she whines.

“I won’t fuck you,” I snap out. “Not unless you’re actually mine.” I press a kiss to her temple, then trail down her neck and bite into it, leaving a mark like she is mine.

It soothes something dark and feral in me, so I keep her neck in my teeth as she comes hard over my fingers, and then again as I push her toward another one.

“Again.”

“Toren, please—”

“Again, Lily,” I press my fingers inside her again, using the heel of my hand to press on her clit, igniting a sharp whimper from her mouth as she thrusts up against me. “C’mon, Lil. I thought you said you could take it. I thought you said it wasn’t enough.”

“I-I can!” Her voice is frantic, nails sinking back into the skin of my forearm like she’s scared I’ll take my hand away. “I can take it. Please, Tor—”

She comes faster than I’m expecting, my fingers barely moving, so I’m nice enough to keep them there and let her ride it out, even if I’d rather press her into the mattress and punish her with my cock. How would it feel now, with the piercings? Would she cry in that soft, whimpering way of hers, knowing it’s nearly too much but still begging me to give her more?

I can’t think about it. I’m not fucking coming in my pants in this room.

Instead, I take her into the bathroom and run her shower, making sure it’s hot. I want to wash her. She’s a limp rag doll in my hands, eyes barely open, but it’s a line I won’t cross yet. Still, I lay out her clothes for her to change and wait in her room.

Back in her bed, I pull the sheets over us and hold my hand tucked beneath the waistband of her shorts, held tightly against her lower belly. All heat and pressure and possession.

I shouldn’t be here. I need to put space between us if I’m going to survive the next few months. She needs to graduate, and I need to get on an NHL team as far from her as possible.

And yet, I don’t move for a long time.

• • •

It’s three in the morning when I leave.

I carefully clear off her bed, knowing she tosses and turns violently in her sleep. I used to lock my arms and legs around her to keep her steady through the night, so I didn’t wake up to random kicks into my stomach or thighs.

Part of me wonders what it might be like to hold her through the night again. What she might be like in the morning. I’d always had to sneak out before she woke up as a kid, because her father always woke her early before he left for work. I’ve never seen her soft and sleepy, eyes fluttering, but I’ve imagined it a million times.

Would she want me to stay? Would she be happy I did?

I let the fantasy of holding her die in my brain, sweeping it into the pile with the rest of my “A Life with Lily LaBlanc” fantasies, bracing against the cold winds on my bike and falling asleep alone in a room I’m merely a guest in.

Just like old times. Nothing has fucking changed.

Chapter 31

Toren

After my Thursday classes, I head back to the arena. When we have morning classes that cut too close to my lectures, I leave my bike in the parking lot and my helmet and hockey bag in Harris’s office—which, to my surprise, he gave me a key for.

It’s mostly empty, a few admin around. I see LaBlanc’s light is on, his voice barking out something, so I steer clear of his room entirely. I can hear people on the ice and in the more distant locker rooms, so I assume one of the figure skaters is practicing. And without my captain, Rhys, loitering around, I’d assume it’s not Sadie Brown.

Rounding the corner, I unlock Harris’s office and grab my stuff, flicking the light off as I turn and lock it back.

“Did I catch a thief?”

God, I hate this kid. I look up at the taunt, pulling the key from the lock and tucking it into my pants pocket. Rolling my eyes, I toss a quick, “Fuck off, McKill.”