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“Is there anything you don’t think through?”
“You.” He dives beside me under the covers and holds me close to him. His chestnut strands fall haphazardly across his head.
“M-me?”
“You’re the only thing I’ve never been able to think through.”
My breath shortens, but I whisper, “Because I’m your chaos?”
“Because you’re the reason I look forward to new days.” His hand slips under my oversized shirt. “Mmm. Nothing. You’re on the naughty list this year.”
“I’m not.”
“Yes, you are. My naughty girl.” He yanks his trousers down and I bite my lip as he aligns the tip of his cock with my entrance. “I’m going to fuck you like that man did that woman today. It’s going to be hard and ruthless, and you’re going to moan my name.”
My limbs liquefy and I’m about to moan from the assault of his words alone.
I don’t get to reply as Cole slams inside me in one merciless go.
And then he keeps his promise.
26
Cole
There are right days and
wrong days.
Today is the latter.
I know the right days — or rather, I discovered them over the past couple of weeks.
Right days start with Silver’s face opposite mine before I wake her up with my tongue inside her cunt, and her muffling her screams into the pillow so no one hears.
Right days include leaving hickeys all over her tits and stomach and even her neck, then spying on her as she secretly stares at them in the mirror with a smile.
Those days include sneaking behind everyone’s backs whenever we have dinner, and fucking her against the bathroom’s counter until her orgasm face is the only thing visible in the mirror.
Those days can also be spent in the club, where we watch people have sex until she becomes so hot and bothered and starts to touch me. Where I’m fucking her then and there until my name comes out of her mouth in a stifled moan.
Right days end with me slipping into her room and fucking her before hugging her to sleep, only to wake her up in the middle of the night to fuck her again.
That’s the problem with Silver… It’s impossible to get enough of her. I have no pause or stop button when it comes to her. The moment I think I’m done, she’ll moan in her sleep or absentmindedly stroke my chest, and all I want to do is own her again.
The resistance never really withers away from her. It doesn’t matter that she comes undone around me, or that she still goes behind my back to threaten any girl who comes close to me. After every time I take her, every single orgasm, and every single kiss, she doesn’t fail to murmur that she hates me.
Her body might open to me willingly and without any resistance, but she still has her heart and mind under lock and key.
On right days, I couldn’t give a fuck about that. The only thing that matters is that she’s mine. So what if no one knows? I’m still the only one she comes for, begs for, and whose name she moans.
I’m the only one who sees the hickeys and the only one who puts them there. I’m the only one who witnesses the rolling of her eyes and the ‘O’ on her lips when she orgasms. The only one who feels the shaking of her legs around me and hears that small satisfied noise she makes when she’s spent.
But on wrong days, like today, I want to grab her by the throat and kidnap her the fuck out of here.
Out of this city. This country. This world.
Since we’re at school and have many witnesses, I can’t actually do that. So I watch her like I always have.
