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But I won’t be for much longer.
Tomorrow is Sunday, and judging by things he has said, it seems like he’ll let me get back to my regularly scheduled life—minus Professor DeMarco’s class, of course—come Monday.
As we’re both getting dressed for dinner with his parents, I ask, “Do I get to go home tomorrow?”
His hand stills on the collar of his shirt briefly, then he shrugs to adjust the fit and finishes the process of buttoning up. “Eager to leave me, are you?”
The way he says it makes me feel a pinch of guilt, which I know is absurd.
I’m not really being mistreated, and I know I’m not in any danger, but I am still here because he made me be here. Not because I wanted to be. “I just need to get ready for the start of a new week. I have school… a new class, apparently.”
His jaw locks at even the peripheral mention of Professor DeMarco.
“I just need to get myself prepared. I haven’t even been able to check my school email since I’ve been here, and sometimes my teachers will email me about preparations I need to make for class. If I haven’t checked it before Monday morning and I miss something important, they won’t think, ‘oh, she was probably kidnapped this weekend and didn’t have access to her laptop.’ They’ll just think I’m a slacker.”
He’s quiet as he grabs his leather belt off the counter and puts it on.
“My father may ask you questions at dinner. If he does, don’t express your impatience to leave. Act like you like me more than you do, and make it as clear as you must that you have no desire to tell anyone about this weekend or get me in trouble.”
I don’t know if it’s his words or his monotone delivery of them, but guilt pinches me when he grabs my hand and hauls me out of the bathroom. I flick off the light and follow him, but I can’t seem to outrun the icky feeling.
When we get to the hall outside his bedroom, I tug on his hand and slow down.
He turns to look back at me.
I don’t know what to say.
My lips part, but no words come.
Instead of offering up words, I offer up the only thing I can think of that I know he wants: me. With my gaze locked on his, I back up against the wall.
His eyes narrow, but his predator’s instincts are engaged. He has to stalk me and close in on me like he has to breathe. He grabs my waist with one hand and my neck with the other, pulling me against his body, then pressing me back against the wall.
My heart pounds so hard, I can hear it in my ears. I know I invited this, but it makes it no less intense when he claims my mouth. His hunger for me is overwhelming, and while I wanted to offer a kiss to make up for possibly hurting his feelings, he seems intent on taking much more.
“Silvan,” I say desperately, breaking away from his lips as he hikes up my dress, his big hands moving possessively between my thighs.
He doesn’t say anything and doesn’t stop. Instead, he rips my panties away from my body and shoves his hand between my legs. I try to squeeze my thighs together to stop him, but he just releases my waist and grabs my thigh, lifting it and wrapping my leg around his hip.
“Stop,” I say, grabbing his wrist and the hem of my dress to try shoving it down. “We have to meet your parents for dinner.”
“Fuck dinner.”
“Silvan…”
The sound of his zipper makes my heart lurch, then start to beat harder. I look down the hall to make sure we’re at least alone, then grab his shoulders on instinct as he lifts me.
I meet his gaze fleetingly as his cock meets my entrance. I’m not ready for him, but he shoves into me anyway.
Fuck.
I whine as I stretch to fit him, trying to move away from his intruding cock but also terrified he’ll drop me if I move too much. He grips my ass possessively, pulling me hard against him as he forces himself deeper inside me.
“I fucking love having you on my cock,” he growls. “I’d keep you here all goddamn day if I could.”
I drop one hand from his shoulder to brace it on the wall behind me as he shifts our positions, easing back so he can ram into me again. I cry out, but he ignores my protest and smashes me against the wall, grabbing a rough handful of my hair and crushing his mouth against mine. I can scarcely breathe as he ravages my mouth, driving his cock deep into my aching pussy. It’s a brutal invasion, and it feels like it’s meant to be one.
I can feel every inch of his thick, hard cock as he pounds into me again and again, using my pussy, making me take him. He’s not worried about my pleasure this time, only using me to get himself off.
