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6
Willow
Ihadn’t heard a single footstep. Now, one of Camdyn’s hands clasps my throat, the other my hip. With ease, Camdyn deposits me onto the sink. The stony Scottish statue wedges himself between my thighs. A prickling of goose pimples ignites across my skin as his narrowed hips shift toward the apex of me. If I attempt to wrestle away from a man who’s a foot taller than me and sporting shoulders wider than my dreams, I’ll lose. Plus, you’ve already gotten on his bad side. An alarming thought escapes my mind a fraction of a second later. What if he tries to r . . . I shake the idea from my mind.I’m captured by the flame of amusement and attraction in Camdyn’s eyes, and my breathing sharpens with desire. The tiny corrupt bone in my body begs to see how this plays out—for maybe a minute or two.
Gripping a fist full of my locs, he dips my head back. His face presses against the crux of my neck as he inhales deeply. He murmurs, “Ye smell so fecking good right now.”
Camdyn breathes me in like a feral, starved animal would his first meal. The groan vibrates through him, and electricity shoots from the top of my hair follicles down to my toes. This is bad. He’s fucking with my mind, my feelings. My eyes soar to his lips, and my skin hums at the reminder of how he’d controlled me.
“Lolo, stop ignoring me,” he grits out. “I’m willing to forget the little conversation you had with, was it Christian? Besides, ye’re not leaving this school without me.”
This is wrong. I croak, “I’ll scream.” The sensible part of me knows I should’ve already shrieked like a siren, but I can’t. I’m still fixated on Camdyn.
Laughing, Camdyn grazes the shell of my ear. “Do it.”
“What?” Shouting would call attention to this maniac.
While I’m hanging on by a thread, Camdyn’s eyes hood, sexy and contemplative. He anchors his hand sideways as if to see how many fingers he can fit into my mouth. “Ye’re supposed to scream, Lolo, or at the very least, open wide. This is me being patient, my best behavior.”
Somewhere, a switch flips. Who am I conversing with? His tone had become friendly, intuitive.
“Ye’ve an impossibly tiny mouth. You scream now, we can gage if you can take the tip of my dick.”
When I clamp my lips shut, Camdyn’s chuckle vibrates through my soul, stroking a new, dark cord. His finger traces my lip to my cheek, mapping out a path to my throat as if he’s imagining his rigid dick pumping into me. Ice trickles through my veins, and heat of the same intensity ripples from his hard body.
The soles of my feet haven’t pounded the pavement since the world as I knew it was swallowed into a sinkhole. He may be strong, but I’m quick. Usually, but not now. Paralysis constricts my muscles, and something sickeningly new stirs in the pit of my stomach. Camdyn brings his hand down, cupping his palm over my breast. I synchronize the movement of my lungs with his massive chest. I fear I’ll cease breathing all together if I don’t match his rhythm.
Lips trembling, I murmur, “You shouldn’t do this.”
“Ye smell so fecking good.” His voice sends powerful rivulets spiraling to my core. “Good enough to rip apart.”
My mouth twists. Who offers a swoon-worthy smile while speaking so sadistically? Fuck the cat and mouse game. I wrangle the lump in my throat, shutting it down. “That supposed to scare me?”
Camdyn’s smile is easy, as if alight with sincerity. “Something else shines in your striking hazel eyes. It calls to me, Lolo.”
“Bull—”
“While my hands feel real good around a bitch’s neck, you’re . . . different. My wee treasure.”
The charming Scottish brogue in his tone almost trips me up, blinding me. But I grit out, “Get off!”
His menacing voice drops. “They love when I choke them. There’s a certain finesse to it that once got me so hard. Until you. I’ve never been so hard in my fecking life. You run fast, but this race is a lost cause. You’re mine, Lolo.”
Run fast. Race . . . Does he know I’m a runner?
He savors the look in my eyes, hand snug along the curves of my hips, then smoothing over my thighs and back again. The walls in my center squeeze like pop rocks.
“Lolo, this feels natural. My hands all over your body. Normally, I wouldn’t play games—”
“What game have I played with you?” I fight the traitorous reaction of my pussy while it waits for his violent acquisition.
He shrugs a shoulder. “Something in you is broken. Newly shattered. You haven’t the slightest idea how to rein it in. But you can’t hide it from me. What is it exactly?”
I stay silent. I don’t know how this asshole knows what’s going on with me. It’s stalker creepy.
“Willow,” his voice strums at the anger brimming beneath the surface. “Why are you broken?”
I’ve surpassed the point where my leadership skills would kick in. Anger bubbles inside of my veins as I hiss, “Kiss all of my Black a—”
