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Next is the button on my jeans. I flick it, listening as the pop resonates through the room, then I slide them down my legs slowly, telling myself, he’s not really here, and I’m just wearing a bikini. Tears prick my eyes as I stand before him in my underwear, my body on display to him. A boy I used to think was my everything, my knight, until he turned into the cruel monster that he is today.
“You didn’t think it was going to be that easy, did you?” A vicious grin that could only be described as Satan smiling at you, graces his lips.
“What do you mean?” I ask, confused while doing my best not to give away how afraid of him and this situation I am. There is no reasoning with Warren, no understanding him. It’s clear he wants something from me or at least wants me to pay for something I’ve done, but what is that something? A question pricks my tongue, and just as I’m about to give voice to my thoughts, he clears his throat.
“Bra and panties off. Then, I want you to go over to the bed, crawling on your hands and knees. Lie on your back and close your eyes.”
Shaking like a leaf in the summer breeze, I chew on my lip, “Warren…”
“Do it,” he growls. That lean but athletic body of his vibrates with uncontrolled chaos, and I know if I object, all hell will break loose. Part of me wants to see him lose control while the other is scared of it.
Right now, I think the scared part wins, so tucking my tail between my legs, I slip my fingers into the side of my panties and shove them down, watching as they fall to the floor.
Without looking up, I unsnap my bra and toss it down as well. Then like a dog, I drop to my knees, the coldness of the floor against my skin makes me wince, but I bite the inside of my cheek to hide the sound. I refuse to give him any more leverage, to let him know how scared I am.
Crawling across the floor, I can feel his eyes on me. As wrong as it is, and as slimy as I feel about it, my insides clench at the uncertainty of what may happen. My core pulses with need, and I want to tell my stupid hormones to go away, that they don’t understand the person they’re reacting to is fucked up and crazy.
Reaching the bed, I pause, can I really do this? Can I swallow my pride and let him use my body just to keep him happy and keep my scholarship safe?
“Don’t tempt me, Harper. Please don’t fucking tempt me.” Warren’s voice is cold and downright sinister. A chill of terror blankets my body, and I obey him. Crawling up onto the mattress, I lie down on my back. Exhaling a ragged breath, I close my eyes and say a silent prayer. When I hear his footsteps echoing off the floor, I start to shake.
What sick and twisted thing is he going to do?
“I used to think the world of you, Harper, that you were it for me. That you were this perfect little thing…” His fingers trail over my skin, and I flinch, wanting to open my eyes and see what he’s doing.
“I don’t understand…” I respond without thinking.
“Shhh, I didn’t tell you to speak,” Warren whispers, and I can feel his hot breath against my face. A second later, I feel him pushing my thighs apart. My body hums, heat pulses in my pussy, and radiates outward. This is wrong. You don’t want him, I want to scream to my body, but it’s already betrayed me.
“Spread your thighs and keep them spread. You don’t want to know what happens if you don’t.” I don’t need him to tell me. The warning is clear enough. Trailing his fingers down between my breasts, I wait with bated breath for his next move. I’m completely exposed, a fallen angel lying at the devil’s feet.
Rolling my nipple between two fingers, he causes both pain and pleasure to zing through me. I inhale sharply, and whimper as he releases my breast and does the same to the other.
“You’re a filthy fucking girl, and even though you’ve been bad and definitely don’t deserve my tongue, I’m going to give it to you. I’m going to show you what you could’ve fucking had…” I let my eyes flutter open just in time to see him dropping to his knees before me. His fingers bite into my ass as he lifts me, bringing my pussy to his mouth as if I’m a steak and he hasn’t eaten in months.
At the first touch of his tongue against my clit, I whimper. At the second touch, I squirm, and by the third lick, I’m fighting for breath. The man is starving, feasting on me, and no matter how wrong this is, I don’t want him to stop.
