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It’s my turn to smile at her, but it’s not blasé or friendly. It’s predatory, my upper lip curling over my teeth. “There’s no moving on from me sweetheart.”
“You’ll have a front row seat when I do.”
The sentence has barely gotten past her lips before I slam mine on hers, claiming her mouth in a ravaging kiss. My hand twists in her hair, yanking it back with a severe pull as I take her mouth. Our teeth clash, our tongues battling out, neither one of us refusing to give in. I bite her lip, hard, and lick up the metallic taste of blood before pulling my head back.
“I like kissing you.”
“You’re an animal.” She says, her breath ragged as she wipes her mouth.
“The next time you provoke me I’ll fuck you so hard you won’t walk for a week. Do you understand me?”
She glares at me, refusing to answer, so I use my grip on her hair to move her head up and down in a ‘yes’ motion.
“I know you’re upset about the way I grabbed you last n–”
She cuts me off, annoyance clear in her voice. “I’m not upset about that, I’m very used to you grabbing me like a ragdoll.”
She grabs my wrist and pulls it back, removing my hold from her hair to emphasize her point.
I’m not good at this communication shit and I have no idea why she’s mad if it’s not about that. “Then what is it?”
She stands on her knees on the bed so that she’s less disadvantaged height wise. “Don’t ever tell me not to speak again. Maybe it’s normal in your rich person circles to silence women but I promise you that where I’m from it’s not. I can put up with a lot of your shit, Rogue, but I won’t stand for that kind of disrespect. If you ever tell me to stop talking, you’ll get your wish because I’ll never speak to you again. Do you understandme?”
I work my jaw back and forth, considering her. She’s fucking hot when she’s irate. Her eyes spark, her chest heaves with every enraged breath, her lips redden even further. I don’t like her giving me orders, but I like the thought of her not speaking even less.
If I’d stayed last night, I’d have commanded her to speak. Her voice and her fire are what interest me most. “Fine.”
She gives me a skeptical look, her eyes narrowed on me. “You won’t use our deal to shut me up again?”
“No.”
She sits back down on her haunches, the fight leaving her entirely. She looks back up at me. “Promise?”
I extend a pinky towards her. “Pinky promise.” I say sarcastically, echoing our earlier agreement.
She laughs and a mix of feelings I’m not familiar with fill my chest.
Happiness. Satisfaction.
Affection.
???
19.
Bellamy
In the week that follows our first post-truce argument, I sleep at Rogue's house every night. We stay in the guest bedroom and I never see the inside of his room.
Time passes in a blur of studying, classes, detention and spending time with the girls. Rogue and I are civil during the day in that he no longer attacks me, but we mostly don’t acknowledge each other until detention when he corners me against a shelf and punishes me for some perceived slight earlier in the day.
In the evenings, we spend time together alone or with his friends. I'm slowly getting to know him and getting to peek behind the titanium walls he has built around him. He's more relaxed when he's with Phoenix and Rhys and I see a different side to him.
At night, he fingers me for mouthing off at him in detention, goes down on me when I laugh at one of Rhys’ jokes during dinner, and kisses me like a starving man until my lips are painful and swollen.
But he never goes any further.
Once he’s pulled two, three orgasms out of me, he curls around my boneless body, his erection digging into my ass, and goes to sleep.
