by Sofia Daniel
“It isn’t.” He grabbed my hand and placed it on his hard, pulsing dick. “See how much I want you.”
I gave it a gentle whack. “Don’t act like you’re incapable of having an erection while plotting a girl’s downfall. I still haven’t forgotten about the hidden cameras.”
“Lilah.” His groan was deep enough to give me a low-down tingle.
“What?”
“Every time one of us has screwed you over, it’s backfired.” He pressed a kiss on my forehead. I was about to tell him that Maxwell had succeeded, but he spoke first. “Max got the furthest with you, and now look at him. He got beaten up by your ex and now you occupy his every thought.”
I rolled my eyes. “Really.”
Orlando cupped the side of my face. “He’s fallen hard. You’re addictive.”
I glanced away. That was the second time someone had mentioned his feelings for me. The third if Maxwell himself was to be believed.
“So, I’m like crack, then?”
Orlando smirked. “Worshipping at the crack of Lilah?”
“Don’t be a dick.”
“Are you going to let me finish what we started at Christmas or not?”
“If you so much as film this or—”
His firm lips descended on mine in a kiss that curled my toes. “I won’t venture anywhere you don’t invite me, and I’ll let you check me for hidden cameras.”
The cogs in my head turned. This was my chance for revenge. I could set up a smartphone and record him doing something lewd, but the thought of his tongue between my legs set my pulse racing.
“Alright,” I said.
Orlando’s expression dropped. “What?”
I grabbed his hand. “Come upstairs.”
In the blink of an eye, he had my feet off the ground and my legs around his waist. Excitement made my heart lurch, and I wrapped my arms around his neck.
I stared into his mischievous, hazel eyes. “What’s this?”
Orlando grinned. “Taking you upstairs before you change your mind.”
He pinned me against the wall with his hard body. I rested my arms on his broad shoulders and let him plunder my mouth. Each stroke of his tongue against mine made my core muscles clench and spasm—I needed him that much.
Somehow, we made it up the stone staircase. With a few murmured directions, I led him to my bedroom. Moonlight streaming through my net curtains illuminated the way to my double bed, its white covers glowing in the semi-darkness.
“Take my tights off,” I murmured into the kiss.
Without missing a beat, Orlando maneuvered us to the four-poster with me clinging onto him like a lust-struck koala. After laying me on my back and straddling my thighs, he ran his large, warm palms under my skirt and moaned. “You have the nicest legs and ass.”
I grinned. “All the better to clamp around your head while you’re sucking on my clit.”
He groaned. “You always know the right thing to say.”
A laugh bubbled up to my throat, and I raised my hips off the bed. “Get to work.”
“Yes, Miss.” Orlando hooked his fingers under my tights and the waistband of my panties and slid them down my legs. “I want to eat you out until you squirt.”
Cool air from a tiny gap I’d left in the window circulated around the bare skin of my lower half. Right then I felt exposed, which only added to my excitement. “I can’t make any promises.”
He eased off my regulation loafers then pulled the tights and panties off my feet. “I’ve wanted to do this to you for weeks.”
“Now’s your chance.” I parted my thighs.
Orlando knelt between my spread legs, his breath catching. “Can I turn on the light—”
“You’re already getting an eyeful,” I snapped.
“Of course.” The warmth of his breathy whisper fanned against my folds as he bent close. “This is more than enough.”
Orlando’s lips pressed against my sensitive flesh, making pleasure ripple through my core. I arched my back and moaned. Shit, being deprived of sex sure made a girl oversensitive.
He ran his tongue down to my opening and lapped at the moisture. “Fuck, you taste so good.”
I bit down on my lip, holding back another moan. The only big head I wanted on a man was the one at the end of his erection.
After licking me clean, that clever tongue meandered up to my engorged clit, which pulsed and twitched with each lapping stroke. It was enough to make me shudder.
“You like that?” he muttered.
“Do it again.” I wrapped my legs around his head, keeping him in place.
With a chuckle, Orlando lapped harder.
“That’s it.” Bucking my hips, I wove my fingers into his hair.
“You’re so fucking sexy,” he growled, the warmth of his breath puffing over my folds.
I moaned with anticipation of his next move. Orlando didn’t disappoint. The tip of his tongue swirled around my clit, sending pleasant shudders down my inner thighs. My core muscles clenched around nothing, waiting to be filled. I needed more—two fingers or a nice, juicy dick.
Round and round he went with that tongue, each stroke trailing a stream of ecstasy that submerged me in a state of bliss. My breath came in shallow pants, and I squeezed my eyes shut, focussing on that relentless, wet organ.
Orlando groaned. “Lilah.”
I panted in response and tilted my hips to deepen the sensations.
He drew back and stared at my sex. “You’re so beautiful.”
A flush burned my cheeks. Maybe the moonlight made everything seem more romantic, but no one had ever complimented me on having a pretty pussy.
I gave him a pat on the head. “Less sweet-talking, more sweet licking.”
“Mmmmm!” His lips crashed down on my folds, and his tongue lapped at my clit as though he was trying to lick it out of existence.
Pleasure. It pulsed through that bundle of nerves, setting off a chain of explosions of ecstasy around my core, my belly, my thighs, and nipples. I clapped my free hand over my mouth, not wanting to dissolve into a puddle of crying need.
Shit, that boy knew what to do with his mouth. A little voice in the back of my head wondered if he had pleasured Elizabeth in this way, but I shoved it aside.
Heat built between my legs. It spread up my torso, making the cotton of my shirt hot and itchy. My nerve endings cried out to tear off my clothing, to tear off Orlando’s, but I clenched my teeth and focussed on the sensations of his talented tongue.
“Fuck, Lilah,” he said between licks. “You taste so good.”
A whimper reverberated in my throat. If he continued like this, I would melt into a puddle of liquid Lilah.
Pleasure built up behind my clit, pushing against it like a battering ram. My hips shuddered under his ministrations. Orlando held me in place, lapping at me like a man starved.
My nipples hardened to the point of pain. Sweat broke out across my brow. Every nerve ending tightened my skin into goosebumps. I wavered on that precipice, sighing, panting, moaning, needing release.
Orlando chuckled. “I can’t wait until the day you let me fuck you.”
“Oh yeah?” I asked between panting breaths. “What makes you think that will ever happen?”
He clamped his lips around my clit and sucked, the intensity of it breaking an invisible barrier. Without meaning to, a scream tore from my throat as wave after wave of ecstasy crashed over my self-control.
“Oh. Oh. Oh!” This was the last time I’d let myself go so long between orgasms. I’d lost the ability to speak and had turned into a Pokemon. Apparently, I was called Oh and had yet to graduate to squirting attacks. “Oh!”
“That good, huh?” Orlando rose from between my legs and grinned.
“Let me return the favor.” I’d get him nice and hard then ride him to the sunrise.
He shook his head and pressed a Lilah-scented kiss on my lips. “I’ve already taken care of myself.”
“You wanked?”
My brows drew together. This wasn’t anything like Mr. Secret-Incriminating-Sex-Tape from last term. Or the guy who had demanded a spit roast and wanted to jizz on my face in a nightclub.
“I hope we can do this again soon.” He stood, zipped up his pants, and headed for the door.
Scrambling up to sit, I stared at his broad back. The faint traces of moonlight streaming through the windows brought out the golden highlights in his curls. Did he want me to chase him? It was rare for a guy to leave after getting a girl all lubed and ready to fuck.
Orlando paused at the door, his fingers hovering on the handle. “Good night, sweet princess. I’ll let myself out.”
He pulled it open, stepped out into the hallway, and blew me a kiss.
The door clicked shut, and his footsteps echoed on the floor. They continued down the stone staircase. A moment later, the front door opened and shut.
I rushed to my balcony window and stood behind the net curtains. Orlando’s shadowed figure descended the entrance steps and walked across the courtyard. When he reached the gates, he turned around and glanced up.
A jolt of surprise had me ducking out of view. I couldn’t stand the thought of him seeing me gape after him like he was the last dick in Templar.
“Damn,” I muttered. “He really meant what he said earlier.”
If I could be wrong about Orlando, was I also wrong about the level of Maxwell’s remorse?
Chapter 20
I didn’t get much sleep that night. Orlando had dropped a handful of coal on the fires of my libido, and they cried out for more. More tongue, more cock, more of that gorgeous, hard body and most of all, more fucking.
My eyes snapped open, and I glowered at the pale streams of morning light peeking through my net curtains. Why couldn’t I be more like Elizabeth? Revenge would be so much easier if I didn’t fancy those assholes so much. If they hadn’t awoken a desire for sex with two men. Memories of two sets of hands delving into the holes of my catsuit drifted to the front of my mind, as did the urge to handcuff a knight to the bed and ride him to satisfaction.
A knock on the door broke me out of my fantasy. “Lilah,” said Mr. Burgh. “Are you in there?”
Pushing those thoughts aside, I swung my legs out of bed and headed for the bathroom. “I’m airing out my room in the academy. It still smells like dogs.”
“Don’t be late for breakfast,” he said through the door.
“Alright.” I stepped into the white-tiled room, turned on the shower and stood back as the water went from lukewarm to steaming.
I stared into the mirror and brushed my teeth. Maxwell and Orlando claimed they were sorry, but it wasn’t enough. If I didn’t want to stab them in the back, I had to at least make them grovel. But my biggest worry right now was evening things out with Elizabeth. She had to know that nobody crossed Lilah Hancock. Not if they wanted to live.
The warm spray washed away thoughts of Maxwell, Kendrick, Orlando, and his magic tongue. I closed my eyes and washed my hair. That curry mix was the key to it all, but I couldn’t see Elizabeth or those younger boys leaving it lying around for anyone to pinch. Unless someone staged a distraction at the next cooking club, and we snuck back into the kitchen to steal it.
After dressing, I took the short walk through the snow to the academy, clutching my portfolio for Art and Design. It was my second day back to school and people still wouldn’t stop giggling and staring in the hallway. A stupid first year had accused me of lying about being mauled by a pack of police dogs, and I told him to fuck off. Did they really think I would start rumors about myself?
“I thought I smelled something rancid,” said a voice from behind.
A quick glance over my shoulder found Elizabeth trailing after me with Myra, the tawny-haired witch, hovering at her side.
I curled my lip. “The next time you try to kiss me with that foul breath, I’m calling the police.”
Myra scoffed. “No one wants to kiss your diseased lips, hand-job.”
“Have you looked in the mirror?” I waved a finger over her attempt to make her lips fuller with a thick, red liner. “You look like you’ve just sucked a baboon’s ass.”
Myra dipped her head and placed a hand over her mouth. Elizabeth’s lips quirked into a smile. “How many asses did you suck in custody? I heard they put you in with a prostitute who helped you hone your skills.”
The undercover policewoman who wanted me to spill my guts about Billy Hancock’s purpose for visiting Scotland. Pushing aside Elizabeth’s stupid comment, I drew my brows together. “Did anyone match your fingerprints to the bag of crap you left in my room?”
Her cheeks reddened. “That’s slander.”
“Is it?” I stepped into her personal space. Myra’s shoulders rose, looking like she was ready to step in if the disagreement turned physical. Some of the students moving from class to class paused to take in the spectacle.
Speaking loud and clearly enough for everyone to hear, I said, “There’s going to be an investigation.”
“No one would listen to you,” she sneered.
An idea dropped into my mind. Another way to get back at a girl who never got punished. “I’ve filed a complaint with the independent body that monitors the police.”
Gasps filled the hallway, and warm satisfaction filled my chest.
Elizabeth’s face paled. “What?”
“That arrest didn’t follow any guidelines, did it?” I bared my teeth. “Maybe you got a slap on the wrist for wasting police time, but someone’s going to investigate the officers who listened to you.”
“You can’t do this,” she screeched.
I narrowed my eyes. Was now the time to bring up her missing betting slip?
“What is going on, girls?” said the long-suffering voice of Mrs. Campbell.
Elizabeth prodded my shoulder. “Hand-job is—”
“Miss Liddell,” snapped the deputy headmistress. “You have been warned about the use of foul language. Detention!”
Her eyes turned cold. “What did you say?”
“If you think you can adopt that haughty attitude with me, you can think again.”
“One day, I’ll own this academy, and I’ll—”
“Until then, you will follow its rules and conduct yourself like any other student.” Mrs. Campbell wrapped her hand around Elizabeth’s arm. “You’ll spend lunch in the sanctuary until you’re ready to behave.”
My brows rose, and the crowd parted to let the deputy headmistress march Elizabeth down the hallway. Hopefully, this sanctuary was a form of padded room. I continued down the hallway to the dining hall, where Gideon sat alone at a table for six.
I glanced at our usual table for four and then back to Gideon. “What are you doing here?”
He sighed. “Your suitors have made me sit with them every mealtime since you’ve been gone.”
“Are you friends?” I slipped into the seat next to him.
“Not particularly.” He took a slice of rye toast from the rack. “Nevis seems to think that I’m the key to reaching your heart.”
My cheeks warmed. Judging from how much I had thought about him the night before, Orlando had clearly found an alternative route. “Are you alright?”
“Bored mostly.” Pursing his lips, Gideon nodded at a server, who brought over a tureen of porridge. “I’d much rather speak to you than listen to them speculate on how best to earn your affection.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
He raised a brow. “And give them the satisfaction of your attention?”
I picked a whole wheat slice from the rack and buttered it while the server filled my porridge bowl. The warm scent of cream filled my nostrils and made my mouth water. “Enough about those gits. Are you still avoiding Lachlan?”
Gideon frowned into his porridge. “I need time to think things through.”
I stared at my best friend, waiting for him to elaborate. Before
now, I would have described Gideon as prim on the outside and wild on the inside, but I wasn’t so sure about that. In his position, I would have jumped at the chance to have Francesco and Lachlan. They were gorgeous, wealthy, and considerate people.
“Do you feel bad about having two boyfriends?” I whispered.
“At some point, I’ll have to inform my parents of my orientation,” he murmured. “It will be hard enough telling them I’m in a relationship with one man, let alone with two.”
“Ah.” I took a spoonful of porridge. It wasn’t like I had any good advice on the subject of parents.
“Did you read the local paper?” he asked.
I shook my head. “Is there anything worth reading?”
“Some intrepid reporter at last term’s fashion show noted the similarities between Elizabeth’s creation and her mother’s wedding gown.” Gideon pulled out his smartphone and pulled up an article featuring a picture of Elizabeth in her dress next to a shot of her parents on their wedding day. “It’s quite the scandal, and other papers are picking up the story.”
My eyes bulged. “Really? But she’s just a spoiled brat.”
“That may be so, but she’s both connected to the Archbishop of Scotland and the prestigious Liddell Lordship. If Elizabeth continues to lash out in such elaborate ways, she’s likely to self-destruct.”
I eyed the article, my gaze lingering on the word, ‘fraud.’ “But I need to expose her faster than her family can arrange coverups.”
Gideon picked up a bowl of brown sugar and added a heaping spoonful to his porridge. “She’s now on the radar of the press, which has hurt her family. I’ll bet they’ll be less lenient on her antics, now.”
I poured a bowl of stewed apples into mine and inhaled its warm, cinnamon scent.
Maxwell slid into the seat next to mine, making my heart spasm. I stared into my porridge but totally checked him out through the corner of my eye. Even though most of the bruising on his face had gone, he still hadn’t replaced the piercings.
“Good morning,” he said.
“Morning,” I said in my breeziest of tones.
My stomach muscles tightened in anticipation of a lewd comment about my tryst with Orlando, but it didn’t arrive. I turned around and looked him full in the face just as one of the waitresses scampered up with the usual full Scottish breakfast he ate when he was pretending to be Kendrick.