by Becker Gray
Lennox sat up groggily, clearly in the middle of a nap. He was shirtless. The silvery light coming through the window cast shadows of the ripples of muscles along his chest and his belly. Obviously, he was ripped. Hell, the night I caught him stroking himself, he had been shirtless. But I’d been far too preoccupied with what his hand had been doing.
“Um, sorry. I— I should . . .” I tried to think of a good explanation as to why I was there that didn’t involve me obsessing about him all day or the pilfered letter. “I don’t have your number, and I wanted to talk to you. And I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snuck in here. It’s sort of a bad habit.”
His brows popped. “You call sneaking into a guy’s room a bad habit?”
His voice was still sleepy, but amused too. Like last night hadn’t even happened.
I rolled my shoulders. “I’m sorry. I’ll go.”
“Wait.”
I turned to him as I got to the window. “No, it’s fine. I’ll just go back to where I came from.”
“Jesus Christ, Sloane. Stop. Where are you going?”
“I’m sorry. I just—I felt bad about what happened in the scullery, and I wanted to apologize. I didn’t think you’d be asleep already.”
“I’m not anymore. I had a strange dream.”
I swallowed hard. “Oh, okay. Right. You had a dream. So, anyway, I’ll be going.”
His chuckle was slow, and the sound made my belly weak. I wanted to run but forced myself to be brave. “Um, sorry about last night. About the greedy thing. I didn’t mean any of it.”
He sighed. Then he frowned. “I think part of me knows you didn’t mean it. I don’t know why I was such a dick about it. I’m sorry.”
My brows lifted. “You’re apologizing to me?”
He nodded slowly. “Yeah, I think . . .” He scrubbed his fingertips through his sleep-tousled hair. “Everything about you, everything about how you make me feel, has been so tangled up and twisted inside me, and it fucks me up, Sloane. It fucks me right up. And then I was feeling a little vulnerable considering what we’d gotten up to in the garden.”
I blinked at him. Did he just say he was vulnerable?
He tilted his head at me. “I wish I knew what you were thinking right now,” he murmured. “Sometimes I feel so fucking transparent around you, and you’re . . .”
“Not transparent at all?” I suggested, and he smiled a little.
“Right.”
It was the way I’d been made—the way I’d thought I wanted to be. But right now it felt awful; it felt like there were walls between us that could never be torn down, that couldn’t even be tunneled through. I could viscerally feel the presence of the letter I’d just hidden, viscerally feel my deception thrumming in the room.
Maybe it was a good thing I wasn’t so transparent after all.
“I should go, Lennox.”
“Do you have to get back?” he asked. “Or could you stay so we could talk?”
“You’re not going to have, like, security burst in here and arrest me, are you?”
A smile—sharp and charming—tilted at his mouth. “They know when to leave me alone. They did when we were in the maze, didn’t they? Now stay. Stay with me.”
I meant to say no—but somehow I found myself nodding and heading for the chair at his desk. Maybe I could hide my feelings from him, but I couldn’t from myself.
I wanted to stay. I wanted to stay with my beautiful bully for hours and hours and hours.
Lennox chuckled low before snatching his sheets back. I could not help but stare as he pushed to his full height. My gaze lingered at every single fine muscle in front of me. He was built lean. Like a swimmer. Nice broad shoulders, tapered waist into boxer briefs. And wow, that looked like one hell of an erection.
Not that you care, because you don’t care about erections. You care about . . . what the hell do you care about again?
I couldn’t remember. My synapses were fried by looking at him. He walked over and took my hand. Something burned in his golden eyes—a desperate hunger that matched the one burning inside me right now.
“Come on,” he whispered. “We don’t have to do anything. I could just hold you.”
I parted my lips to tell him that even holding me was a bad idea, but he pre-empted me.
“Just for a minute,” he said in a husky voice. “Let me feel you against me for just a minute.”
Lust shook me hard. “Just for a minute?”
“Or longer, if you like,” he said roughly. “Unless I scared you in the maze last night.”
Scared? More like infected me with a miserable desire nothing could ever shake.
I shook my head. “No. I liked it. It felt good, and I felt wanted, and . . . I felt pretty.”
He raised a hand to my face and tucked my hair behind my ears, a gesture both gentle and possessive at the same time. “Don’t you know that you’re always pretty?”
I tucked my head down. “No, I know what I look like. I’m not like—”
“Do you? I don’t think you do. Or at least you don’t see clearly.”
“But—”
He inclined his head towards the bed. “Come on, Sloane. I’m cold and I know you are too.”
He eased into the bed and backed all the way up into the wall, making plenty of room for me to climb in. Most of the beds in the dorms were twins, but his was a full one, because of course it was, because he was a fucking prince and he got whatever he wanted.
And he wanted me right now.
Need was lacing the blood in my veins, and my chest was a mess of tight, swirling feelings. It made me want to run away, how he made me feel, and protect my heart before he could hurt it. But I was also no chicken shit. I swallowed hard and then climbed in next to him.
I rolled onto my back, and he propped himself up on his elbow and watched me. “So, sneaking into a guy’s room is a habit?”
“Only when duty calls.”
“Ah. You mean your little detective inspector business.”
“It’s not a business,” I corrected, looking up into his painfully pretty face. “I help people who need it. That’s it.”
“As long as you’re not crawling into anybody’s bed but mine,” he said, and there was a rough edge to his voice. Jealousy.
“Would you care if I did?”
“You know I would.”
We looked at each other for a long moment, neither of us speaking, neither of us even breathing. It felt like we were poised on the knife’s edge of something.
“What were you really doing in here?” he asked quietly.
I hesitated and then spoke the truth. Or part of it at least. “I wanted to see you. After last night . . . I wanted to apologize. It wasn’t my intention to hurt you, and I know with what happened between our fathers that you might think . . .” I trailed off. I wasn’t sure what I could say next that wouldn’t make everything worse.
He closed his eyes. When he opened them again, the gold irises burned with too many emotions to name. “I don’t want to talk about it,” he said, the words curt.
I winced, but I nodded. I understood.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Yes.”
“Do you really like Rhys?”
I laughed at the unexpected conversation. “No. I mean, sure he’s good-looking and all that, but it just didn’t feel—I don’t know, real? I figured he was running some kind of weird Rhys experiment.”
“But you let him kiss you.”
“Yeah. I mean, it’s not like I have a mile-long line of guys begging to try and go out with me. It was flattering. And once I realized it kind of annoyed you, I wanted to do it again.”
His jaw unhinged. “What? Sloane. You played me.”
I shrugged. “Well, I didn’t really play you. I like seeing you being a little jealous.”
He nodded. “Noted.”
As we laid there on his bed, we talked . . . really talked, I wondered why I instinctively avoided him for so long.
>
But one touch of his fingers on my cheek, to my shoulders and my elbow, and my head swam. It was intoxicating. And I wanted more.
“Hey, Sloane?”
“Yes, Lennox.”
“Can I kiss you?”
I knew it was dangerous because we were in his room, and there was no way Aurora was going to come bursting in this time. No way she could accidentally save me from giving this boy more of my heart like she did last night.
But still, I nodded. “Yes.”
16
Lennox
I thought I was dreaming at first. I full-on thought I’d woken up and my dream had manifested into reality. But no, she was here. In my bed. And she was talking to me. Considering what I’d said to her earlier, I didn’t expect that. But here she was, still willing to talk to me after I’d been a jackarse.
I can fix that.
I leaned forward. I just wanted to be close to her. In no way did I mean for the kiss to go further than that.
But she made this soft exhale as I kissed her. Just a gentle brush of the lips, and then my brain somehow lost the battle with my dick, so I couldn’t exactly focus.
Instead of lying there stiffly with her hands clasped over her belly, her hands loosened. One rose up to my face, just as I cradled hers in my hands. And then I gently licked across the seam of her lips, and she gasped, letting me in.
I sort of lost rational thought after that. She smelled like honeysuckle and something a little minty fresh. I’d meant for it to just be a kiss. I’d meant it to be soft—a sort of apology.
Instead, she gasped, and made this soft little whimpering sound at the back of her throat and well, I got a little carried away.
It wasn’t my fault. She was just so damn soft.
Her skin was like satin. And everything about her was a mystery.
If I was being honest, Sloane wasn’t the first girl who’d ever crawled into my bed. But she was the only one I’d ever wanted to. She thought she wasn’t beautiful, but that was so not true. To me, she was stunning. Those eyes, her mouth, even the secrets of her body. Ninety-nine point nine percent of the time, she dressed like wearing a skirt was something she had to be forced into doing, but it didn’t matter what she wore, because everything on her looked like it was made to be worn by her. Like it was made to show off her sharp edges and subtle curves.
Another moan from Sloane, and my ricocheting thoughts refocused on her.
Before I knew what was happening, Sloane molded her body to mine. And her tongue met me stroke for stroke. It was her who deepened the kiss. And it was me who lost control. I couldn’t help but fall. Fall so deep into the abyss that I never wanted to come back out again. My skin buzzed as my dick got hard. All I could think of was her. How she felt. How she smelled. Her strong voice when she spoke. The secret smile when I caught one. Those vibrant green eyes of hers, as they always regarded me with stark honesty. God, I could fall for her.
You already have, you prat. Welcome to the party.
When Sloane molded her body against mine, I knew the right thing was to stop this. Nothing was sorted between us. I was still reasonably certain that I could never forgive what her father had done to my family, and I was still reasonably certain that she could never forgive me for what I’d done to her.
But somehow that didn’t affect my craving to make her mine. It didn’t temper at all the hot, tormenting need I had for her.
I didn’t mean to roll on top of her. It wasn’t planned exactly. But then, when my hips were nestled between her thighs, and she’d widened her stance, making room for me, I groaned. The head of my dick peeked out of the top of my boxers, and Jesus Christ, I rocked my hips against her. Ever so slightly. Her hips lifted to meet mine, and I swallowed the moan on her tongue.
The tingling in my balls was like a loud clanging bell, jolting me awake, making me want to do the things I had sworn not to do only a few hours ago. At least, in here, I had condoms in my nightstand. But fuck, I already felt woozy. I knew exactly what she felt like around the head of my dick. I knew that she’d be soft, and hot, and satin. And God, she was so wet.
I rolled my hips again, and Sloane met me with each one. Sliding my hands up over her hips, I bracketed her narrow ribs and then slid my hands farther up. The gentle curve of her breasts fit my whole hand, and I stopped breathing. “Jesus Christ, Sloane.”
“Lennox.”
Her voice was husky, warm. Aroused. I wanted to keep her in this space forever. When my thumb rolled over her nipple, she groaned and her hips swiveled. Then it was my turn to groan. Fuck, I was hard. All I wanted to do was shove my fucking boxers down, pull down the ridiculous pajama pants that she had on and take us back to where we were the night before in the maze.
She wriggled out of them for me, and then her hoodie, so it was just her in boy shorts and a tank top with no bra. I could viscerally recall how it felt to have the tip of my dick coated in her juices; I wanted to be back there. The slide of my dick against her clit had me groaning, even with the fabric of our underthings between us.
Fuck, if I kept this up, I was going to come inside my boxers. Or worse, all over her . . . again. And she wasn’t some hook up. This was not some random situation. This was Sloane. She’d been under my skin from the moment she showed up at the school. And I was tired of staying away from her. But if I wanted to keep her, I needed to take it slow.
“Oh my god, Lennox.”
With a growl, I rolled to the side, bringing her with me, pressing our lips together again.
She pulled back and tore her lips from mine. “Is something wrong?”
I kissed her gently again. “No. Nothing is wrong.” I stroked my other thumb over her cheek, even as my palm gave her breast a squeeze. “I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anything, but I’m trying to take it slow.”
She frowned at that. “Did I ask you to take it slow?”
I chuckled. “No, you did not. But for once in my life, I’m trying not to be a dick.”
She lifted a brow then. “Wow, this is a hell of a time to start that.”
I chuckled softly. “I know, right? Look at me, great in conscience and feelings, and all kinds of shit.” I kissed her again. Long, and slow, and deep. With a whimper, she rocked her hips against my thigh, and I understood. She was keyed up too. She needed this just as much as I did.
With my thumb teasing over her nipple, she arched into my body. My other hand slid from her face, down the soft skin of her slender arms, over her hip. And then at the hem of her boy shorts, I paused. I made sure that she met my gaze. “Can I touch you?”
With short breathy pants, she nodded. “Yes.”
“If there’s something you don’t like, tell me, okay?”
She nodded vehemently, and then I let my fingers dip under the elastic of her boy shorts. Her hips were slender. I could easily trace the V-line of her hipbone. She parted her legs for me, and my fingers slid over her bare lips before finding her wet core. I bit back the string of curses as I paused.
Sloane wriggled her hips and stared at me with wide eyes. “W-why are you stopping?”
I swallowed hard. Holy fuck.
I squeezed my eyes shut. She felt incredible. “I’m stopping because you feel really good.”
I slid my fingers gently in and out and then back up to her lips to tease her clit.
She continued to bite her lip, and I wanted that pleasure, so I leaned forward and nipped her. “You’re so soft. I could do this all day.”
I slid one finger inside her, and then a second. I cupped my hand just a little bit so the heel of my palm would rub her clit. And then, I slid in and out, and in and out, my other hand still covering her breast, teasing her nipple, kissing her softly. She kept arching into me, wanting more. Begging for more from me.
My body was screaming. My dick was so hard it might explode. I honestly thought it would. Was that possible? I certainly didn’t want to find out, but if I wanted her, I had to show that I could be more than just that guy t
hat used to torture her. Her hand clutched my shoulder. “Lennox, oh my god, I—”
I knew what was happening. I used my thumb, slid it through her wetness, and then rubbed at her clit ever so gently as I dipped inside her, back and forth, back and forth. Then on a low moan I planted my lips on her, drinking in the sounds of her coming apart over my fingers. Convulse and tighten. Convulse and tighten.
Her hips undulated against my fingers, and her walls squeezed me tight.
Jesus Christ, Sloane Lauder’s coming was a hell of a thing to watch. And I wanted to spend my life watching it again and again.
I eased my fingers from her and pulled her even closer to me. “You are so beautiful.”
Her face went pink again, and she ducked her head as if she was going to deny it, but she said nothing. After a long moment, her frown returned.
“But what about you?”
“I will take care of me later. This is about you. And I want you to stay here for a little bit, if you want.”
“I can’t sleep here. Hellfire boys might be immune to dorm checks, but I’m not.”
“I know. But can I just hold you for a minute?”
She nodded. And as I wrapped my arms around her, I knew that for as long as she was in my arms, I’d sleep well.
17
Sloane
The thing about good intentions is they never quite go how you planned.
I’d meant to leave Lennox’s room.
The problem was, once he wrapped himself around me and held me tight, and tucked me into his shoulder, I had fallen asleep. Like the dead. And then at some point in the middle of the night, I’d woken up to the hard erection poking me in the ass.
And there had been snuggling and nuzzling and more kissing, and more fingers. His mouth sucking at my nipples, and I’d come again. And that was some time around four. I had wanted to touch him. I had wanted to explore and play, but he wouldn’t let me.
In the dark, he’d whispered to me how beautiful he thought I was, how badly he wanted me. He’d whispered apologies for being such a dick, which I was entirely here for. He’d apologized with his kisses and his soft touches. And we’d fallen asleep . . . again.