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“Perfect,” he says in a low growl. “Just how I wanted you, helpless and alone.”
My veins are rushing with adrenaline. I will not let some mafia prick have his way with me. My hands form fists at my sides as I regard him with distaste.
“You will not hurt me,” I get out in hiss.
“That’s what you think, cum toy,” he mocks me.
I remember all the words they’ve been writing all over my body in permanent marker and flush. He makes a grab for me, but I’m too fast, dodging him before he can make contact. But I’m also fully aware this is like a game of cat and mouse – I will not get away unless this guy wants me to.
Thinking hard of how to get away, I’m too distracted by my pounding heart and too slow to dodge the next time he throws himself at me. I shriek as his greedy hand contacts with my boobs. I’m repulsed at the thought of being at his mercy, but there’s nothing I can do to help myself. In moments, the guy has me pinned against the wall, my body caged beneath his.
“You smell so fucking good, cum toy,” he tells me, a note of dark desire in his voice. “I’m going to lick that pussy until you squirt in my mouth.”
Forcibly, his fingers fight their way between my thighs and begin massaging my pussy. No matter how hard I try to fight him off, I’m powerless against the prick. But I’m not about to give in. I’m just about to shove my knee between his legs when he stops me, laughing as he shakes his head.
“I can read your mind,” he tells me. “Just give up now. This is not a fight you’re going to win. I’m stronger than you, after all.”
“Get your hands off her, Marco.”
Surprised, we both turn in the voice's direction that has interrupted us. I flush when I see Julian standing there, but Marco instantly obeys what the other man told him. His hands leave my bare skin and he raises them with his palms up.
“Dio, relax,” he mutters. “She’s all fucking yours. Didn’t know you had a hard-on for the school’s cum dumpster.”
Julian glares at him until he leaves the room, chuckling at his own joke.
I can’t quite look at my savior, even though I feel his heavy gaze on me.
“Could you do me a fucking favor and stay out of trouble for five seconds?” he hisses at me, making me raise my eyes to meet his.
“Why do you care?”
“Because you being here is already a massive fucking headache,” he says. “And I will not help you out ever again. You’re on your own, Francesca.”
“Never asked you to help me, did I?”
“You mouthing off to me?” Menacingly, he approaches me and wraps his fingers around my throat. “You should watch your tone with me. Or do you need a reminder of what I can do to you when you disobey?”
I swallow thickly. I want to deny that this is turning me on, but all it would take was one look between my thighs, glistening with my wetness for Julian to know I’m lying.
“Just let me go home,” I mutter. “I’m sick of this excuse for a party.”
“What the hell are you doing here, anyway? You don’t fucking belong.”
“Thanks,” I mutter sarcastically, shooting daggers at him. “Another reminder that I’m just an outcast now.”
He doesn’t reply. His dark gaze carries so much I can’t bear the weight of it. I rush to the bed laden with people’s jackets and coats instead and start digging through them.
“What the fuck are you doing?”
“Finding some clothes to go home in,” I mutter. “Can you just leave me alone, please?”
“Maybe if you weren’t following me around, I could ignore you better.”
“I’m not fucking following you.” I pull a Burberry trench coat from the mess of fabric on the bed and tie it over my naked body. I don’t hide myself from Julian – after all, it’s nothing he hasn’t seen before.
“Just stay the hell out of my way, Francesca.”
His tone is brutal, and I flush as I push past him and downstairs. Before anyone can take notice of me, I slip through the front door and take off running into the night. It’s only a short walk from here to the dorms. Shame burns my cheeks as I remember how mean I was to Luciana when she was only trying to help me. Then, a sudden wave of nostalgia hits me hard. I pull out my phone and impulsively video call my mother.
It takes ages for her to pick up, and when she finally does, I can instantly tell she’s annoyed.
“It’s the middle of the night, Francesca,” she hisses at me. “You’d better be in the hospital or something.”
“I’m sorry,” I manage. “I just got homesick. I wanted to hear your voice.”
