I’m flayed open.
He kisses down my jaw, my throat. “Will you scream? Wake up your foster parents?”
There’s something dirty about him being fully dressed while I’m naked.
There’s something inexplicably aggravating about how helpless I feel.
“No,” I whisper. I stare up at him. “I wouldn’t scream. Not now. And certainly not—”
He pushes a third finger into me, analyzing my reaction. My lips part, words dying in my throat. I widen my eyes at the new stretching feeling.
His other hand goes to my throat, caressing the spot where I’m sure he can feel my pulse leaping out of my skin. His eyes gleam with a challenge.
“You—”
“Don’t ask me to fuck you, love,” he whispers. “Because when I do, you will be screaming my name.” He latches on to my nipple again, sucking hard before his teeth scrape my skin.
I buck, fighting the feeling.
“Give it to me,” he growls. He slams his lips back on mine and flicks my clit, hard enough to feel like a slap.
I jump, groaning into his mouth when the orgasm sweeps through me. My core pulses around his fingers.
He takes everything.
Everything.
And yet, there’s a look in his eyes that says we haven’t even started yet.
He lifts his fingers; they’re glistening in the faint moonlight. He puts them on my lips.
“Suck.”
We’ve done this before.
I open my mouth to tell him to fuck off, but he takes the opening. He shoves his fingers into my mouth, and the taste of me takes over my senses. Tentatively, I touch my tongue to his fingers. He presses down on my tongue, and saliva fills my mouth.
His gaze are fastened on my lips.
I bite down on his fingers, scowling at him, and he jerks back.
He grins. “Didn’t take you as one into blood play.” He flips me over so my back is against his front. He puts his hand on my stomach, pressing me into him.
It’s possessive, and I’m still irritated. The most surprising part: he has an erection. It touches my ass, and I can’t help shift my hips back ever so slightly, wondering at the feel of him.
His hand comes up and tweaks my nipple again.
I freeze.
“Careful, love, unless you do want to wake up your foster parents by screaming my name.”
I frown.
His slow chuckle vibrates in his chest. “Just sleep.”
And the most surprising part: I do sleep.
Caleb curled around me wards off the bad dreams, and I wake up once, in the middle of the night, to find that I’d flipped around in my sleep. My cheek is plastered to his chest, head tucked under his chin, and I’m wrapped around him like an octopus.
As much as it disturbs me, I let his quiet shush drag me back under.
In the morning, he’s gone.
I stretch out, flipping onto my back, and realize that he must’ve left through the window not too long ago. The spot he was lying in is still warm.
I shiver. It isn’t that I dislike what happened… it’s just that I didn’t ask for it. I didn’t ask for his attention or his torment. And even if I’m into Caleb, he’s twisted. He’s getting into my head. And I need him out.
This is exactly what I asked for the other night. I left my window open for the devil and was upset when he didn’t come.
My head hurts from the confusion of it all.
Riley picks me up for school, telling Robert—my usual, trusty ride—that we need girl-talk before school. Once we’re locked away in her car, an iced coffee in hand, she glances at me. “Are you going to spill, or what?”
“Spill about…”
“Everything, Margo. I think it’s time we talked about your secrets.”
I scowl. “Your bribery isn’t going to work.”
She rolls her eyes and reaches into her backseat, revealing a bag from the coffee shop. I open it, staring down at the muffin.
“Okay, the bribery might work,” I say. “I knew Amelie and Savannah in elementary school. And Caleb, of course.”
“Right. You knew more than just them, I’d reckon.”
“Well, yeah. But they’re the important ones. I just… Amelie said she’s dating Caleb? That he’s her boyfriend.” I gnaw on my bottom lip. “He snuck into my room last night.”
She gasps. “Excuse me?”
“He’s…” Wicked.
“That’s devious,” she says. “To be one way at school and another after? What is he trying to do? Confuse the hell out of you?”
“I guess. The bullying is getting worse. Sooner or later, Robert is going to notice.”
She winces as we park. “Eh, teachers don’t hear everything—”
“But they hear enough.”
Across the parking lot, Caleb and his friends walk toward the courtyard. He’s absorbed in a conversation with Eli. Amelie trots over and throws herself at him, a move he narrowly dodges. I’ll give him credit: he makes it seem like a happy accident.
He says something and she rears back, distain flashing across her face.
“Wonder what that’s about?” I ask.
We eat in the car, stuffing the trash in her backseat before we climb out. Dread climbs up my throat. We slip along the edge of the courtyard, finding an empty spot to stand. Riley drops her backpack on the ground, lifting her shoulders.
“The amount of homework they make us do,” she says. “I need a study hall at the end of the day. That would solve so much.”
I shrug. “There’s always next year.”
“Are we going to that party on Friday?” Riley asks. “Eli mentioned it…”
Her cheeks turn red when I stare at her.
“What?” she mumbles.
“When did Eli mention it?” I can’t help the sly grin that crawls over my lips. “Is he being nice now?”
“I guess. He mentioned it while you were hiding away from the world. You know, ignoring your best friend and stuff.” She elbows me.
I shake my head. “Yeah, sorry about that. It just…” My voice trails off.
Ian Fletcher saunters toward us.
“What does he want?”
Riley finds who I’m looking at. “Oh no.”
“Hey, Sheep,” Ian calls.
I swear, everyone stops what they’re doing and stares.
“What’re you going to do now that your fifteen minutes of fame are over?”
My palms sweat.
Ian keeps coming. “You gonna move on to someone else?”