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He rested his chin on my shoulder, and a moment later, I felt Elliot’s teeth at the other side of my neck, nipping in small movements, as if he were afraid to touch my skin. Though I tried to hold it in, I let out a small moan—more out of shock than anything—which caused Pierre to start working his tongue along the narrow ridge of my shoulder.
My hands moved to Pierre’s hair as his face slipped down between my breasts, taking in a deep whiff of my scent, just as Elliot’s tongue moved to the nape of my neck and started down my spine.
“That’s all I ever wanted for you,” Pierre murmured from between my breasts. “And I want to give it to you.”
“But I don’t understand,” I breathed, managing to fall toward him just as he pulled away to slip his boxers down his legs. “I’m not who you want. You want someone better, P. You know this.”
“No, Kat.” He was naked in front of me now, and his burning gaze kept me frozen in place as he bent back on his elbows. “You’ve always been my first choice. Always will be. I’m just afraid I’m not yours—but that doesn’t matter,” he continued. “I could be your last choice. Maybe not even an option at all. And I’d still do anything for you.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Was Pierre … accepting Elliot?
Accepting that I could love him, and his own worst nightmare?
“I want you get fucked,” Pierre said, his half-lidded eyes surveying my pristine skin as sunlight doused my chest, “like you deserve. And I can’t do it for you. Not alone.”
There was a slight smirk on the corner of his lips.
“I want to see you feel pleasure. I want to see you feel happiness.”
I shook my head, because he didn’t understand—he didn’t grasp the insanity of his own words. Elliot didn’t love me. He used me, used Pierre, to get what he wanted. I didn’t want to feel anything, not if it was coming from Elliot. Not anymore.
But then again, Pierre didn’t go through with the plan. He didn’t murder Felix’s father. Didn’t even try to.
Maybe something had changed. Maybe Leo was wrong.
“Besides,” Pierre continued, sounding breathless. “Elliot’s not the one who told me to do it.”
I froze, just as I felt Elliot lay his hands on my hips.
“It was her,” Pierre said, his gaze piercing mine. Daring me to believe him, to accept the truth. “Vivian.”
“Shut up.”
I said the two words just before pushing my lips against his—it was an angry kiss, ravenous, fury-filled. I wanted to suck the word “Vivian” from my vocabulary. Never wanted to hear about her again.
I couldn’t process what he was trying to say to me. Vivian asked him to carry out a murder? Why the hell?
I just wanted to forget.
So, I’d tell him.
“Make me forget,” I said, almost spat. “Please. Make me forget any of this ever happened.”
On command, Pierre slid himself down to center his dick beneath me, while I felt Elliot’s hands on my shoulders. I knew what they were trying to do.
“Wait,” I panted. My thighs were gasping for their heat, inching farther apart, begging for their flesh to join mine. “I want you behind me, P. I wanna look Elliot in the eyes as he tells me the truth. The whole fucked-up truth.”
“As you wish,” I heard Elliot purr in my right ear, his tongue grazing the cartilage. He snaked around me, and I sat up straighter to release Pierre from the cage I had created with my arms and legs. In moments, I felt his hands where Elliot’s once were, cradling the tops of my shoulders like he wasn’t about to go on the rollercoaster ride of his life. If only he knew how rough Elliot could rock.
Just seeing Elliot’s face as he shimmied under me made my pussy wet. It was pathetic. His smirk—that stupid, cunning thing, it charmed the hell out of every living being in high school, including me.
Especially me.
“I wanna slap you so bad,” I growled, looking hungrily, desperately over his dark, well-defined brows, his black curls tossed in a glossy fringe around his head, his pure, clear, freckled skin. And finally, his eyes, which were just as devious as his lips. They said more than words ever could, and combined with his sultry, just-pulled-out-of-bed voice, what he said wasn’t just sounds—it was something that shook me to my core, like thunder.
He electrified me.
“Oh, yeah?” Eliot replied, his words slurred. “You wanna slap me? That’s kinky.”
