Callous Prince

by Becker Gray

  “Get in the bath,” I breathed. “Wait for me with your legs open.”

  She squeezed me—hard. “I’m not an obedient girl,” she murmured. “But luckily for you, I also happen to want to wait for you in the bath with my legs open.”

  And then she sauntered off, her firm arse swaying hypnotically as she did.

  I undressed in record time, flinging my clothes everywhere, and striding into the bathroom to find her not only with her legs open, but with her fingers in between her thighs, petting herself.

  “Bleeding Christ,” I choked, staggering to the edge of the bathtub. “Are you trying to kill me?”

  She laughed—and there! There was that fucking smile! Lighting up her entire fucking face like the sun. Just seeing it made me want to fall to my knees and worship her forever, but I settled for a long, urgent kiss that left her gasping and then climbing into the water behind her. I hauled her into my lap, so that my hard cock nestled against her arse, and then I helped her lean back against my chest, so that her head rested on my shoulder and I could see all the way down her front, from her wet breasts to her parted thighs.

  I found a tightly pointed nipple and started teasing it under the water. “Are you warmed up yet?”

  “Not yet,” Sloane murmured. “I think you’ll have to help.”

  “Hmm, like this?” I covered her tits with my hands and plumped them, kneaded them, until she was breathing hard in my lap. “Does that help?”

  “Yes,” she said. “Oh god, yes. Oh, Lennox.” She took my hand from her breast and molded it over her hot mound. Her seam was slick with more than water, and I played there, running my fingertips back and forth.

  “You’re amazing, you’re so good at that, I love when you touch me,” she was confessing, all in a dreamy, lustful chatter. “I wish you could kiss me forever; I wish I lived in your bed; I wish I’d known you earlier.”

  “We’ve known each other for years,” I said, biting her earlobe as I circled her clit with my fingers.

  “Really known you. Known how loyal you are and perceptive you are. How smart and thoughtful and kind. Known how much I would lo—”

  She stiffened in my arms, cutting herself off, and suddenly my heart was pounding against my chest, as if it was trying to crack my rib cage open and slither out to meet her. As if my life depended on what she was about say.

  “Sloane?” I said hoarsely. “Known how much you would what?”

  She hesitated. “How much I would like you,” she finally said, and it felt like my heart had fallen flat out of my body and gone down the bathtub drain, that’s how disappointed I was. That’s how much I wanted her to have said something else. Another word.

  She tried to change the subject, I could tell. “I started birth control at the beginning of this week,” she said. “Just in case. And I trust you, Lennox, I trust that you’re clean.”

  She had my complete attention then. “Are you saying you’ll let me inside without a condom?”

  “Yeah,” she said, wriggling her bottom against me. “I am.”

  My cock jerked so hard against her that she laughed again, but I was past laughter, past everything but hunger and need. I lifted her higher against my chest and then reached under her to fist myself. “Right now, Sloane. Right fucking now. Work yourself down on me,” I said. “Make it so I’m splitting you open.”

  I’d fucked so many girls before now, but fucking Sloane was ruining me for anyone else. Because watching her slender, athletic frame arch and shiver and flex as she slowly impaled herself on my thick cock made me realize I only wanted to fuck strong girls. Lethal girls. Girls who could choke me out as soon as make me come. It was something about those sleek muscles maybe, or about that deadly grace as she moved. About knowing she was strong enough to take everything I had to give her—which was a lot. Which was so much it scared even me.

  And then there was the fact that my cock was entering her tight hole without anything between my skin and hers. I’d never fucked raw before, and feeling the silky clasp directly on my dick was excruciating, pure hellish bliss. I needed to come right away, I needed to pump her full of my seed so she could finally see, finally feel, how she’d destroyed me and made me her thrall. Maybe I was a prince on paper, but I would be a pauper for Sloane and her tight, velvet cunt in a heartbeat.

  She finally took all of me, her tight backside flush against my lap as her thighs spread on the outside of my mine. And then she leaned back against me as I started playing with her tits again, breathing hard, because the effort of not coming right away was almost too much.

  “You feel like every dream I’ve ever had,” she murmured up to me, raising her chest up to my roaming hands. “Like every fantasy I ever wanted.”

  “God, you are so fucking sweet when I’m inside you,” I groaned, squeezing her tits and biting at her neck. “Ride me, Sloane. Use that little assassin’s body of yours and make yourself come on me.”

  She did. God, she did, her thighs and her arse flexing deliciously as she sat up and started screwing me, started moving in small figure eights. Water dripped off the slick, flat muscles of her back and trailed down the furrow of her spine, and right below the water, I could see the twin dimples at the small of her back, dimples made for my thumbs as I wrapped my hands around her hips.

  She looked back at me over her shoulder, and her green eyes were filled with more than lust, more than need. They were filled with that word she hadn’t been able to say, the word I wanted her so desperately to say. And I knew then as she started to come, her eyes still on mine, that I’d been lying to myself since the maze. Since long before the maze.

  This wasn’t revenge.

  This was something scarier and more dangerous to us both. And when my stomach tensed and my balls tightened and I started throbbing my climax into her pussy, I knew what it was. Because I trusted her. I liked her. I wanted her in my life not just now, but after Pembroke, after college. Forever.

  She was mine, I’d known that for four years, but now I knew the truth.

  I was hers.

  I loved her.

  20

  Lennox

  I was a sap. It was all right. I knew it.

  Coming back from the city, and I still couldn’t let go of Sloane’s hand. Even at her door, when she opened it and turned around with a smile on her face, all I wanted to do was keep holding her hand, stand there, and just be with her.

  You’ve gone soft, mate.

  “This is me.” There was a smile in her eyes as they danced.

  “I guess it is.”

  She inclined her head back towards the open doorway. “Well, I’m going to go in now.”

  But still she made no move to step inside. No move to take her hand from mine. I leaned against the wall, next to the door jamb. “I really don’t want to let you go.”

  Her lips twitched. “I really don’t want to be let go.”

  I knew she had things to do. On the way back she’d mentioned her economics exam she needed to prep for. Don’t be that bloke. Let her go so she can be great. I leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to her lips. “Are you okay though?”

  The smile that touched her lips was shy. “Yeah, I’m okay. I mean, I’m sore in places I didn’t know I could be sore, but it’s a good sore.”

  I shook my head. “Oh, Sloane, what am I going to do with you?”

  “What? I’m just saying.”

  What she was saying was good for my ego, but I still didn’t let her go. “So what are the chances that you might want to sneak into my room again? I mean, at another time, obviously, when you are not quite so sore. And after you’ve studied.” God, I was an arsehole. She’d just told me she was sore. I’d kept her naked basically all weekend.

  Not to mention, she might want a break from me. She might be tired of me already.

  She laughed but pulled her hand free of mine. “Well, I have some homework to do, and I need to make headway on econ, but maybe when I’m done, if you don’t have any homework to
do, we can ‘not do’ homework, together.” Her smile was sly.

  And just like that she gave me hope. “Sounds like a date.” I kissed her again. This time I lingered, savoring every flavor on her lips, because I knew it would have to tide me over until I could see her again.

  Which would be in probably several hours. God, several hours without her.

  Get it together.

  I could do this. I wasn’t a complete pussy. I was, however, a bloke with a girlfriend now. So that was new. I pressed one more kiss to her lips, and then I let her go. I already felt cold and sought her out again and gave her another. One that held more promise, but then promptly let her go. This was becoming a problem. “Oh my god, why can’t I stay away from you?”

  “Why don’t I want you to?”

  “Sloane, you’re killing me. Okay, let’s take care of business, okay? I’ll see you after.”

  “I’ll text you when I’m done,” she promised. “And then I will head over there.”

  “It’s a date.”

  I forced myself to walk away. And as it was, I walked briskly. Down the hall, down the stairs, across the landing, up the other set of stairs through the boys’ corridor, and then down the hall to my room. It was the only way. Otherwise, I was going to stay, or ask her to come study in my room. If she did that, there is no way in hell she would ever get anything done. Nor I.

  Once I got to my room, I grabbed my laptop from my desk and plopped on the bed to get something done. But a stack of papers fell with it. With a groan, I knelt to pick them up, leaving my gaze eye level with my desk.

  I frowned when I saw the fateful letter just sitting there.

  That was not where I’d left it before. I never left that out. It—and everything like it—always went into the file cabinet. Christ, especially this one.

  This one was a letter to Nicholas. After all, he was my little brother, my father’s love child with Graciella, currently being raised by his grandparents in Cyprus. I wouldn’t have just left this out for anyone to find. And then an unpleasant memory surfaced.

  One with Sloane, when I’d caught her in my room, standing right next to my desk.

  No, mate, don’t jump to conclusions, steady on.

  The problem was, even as my brain tried to work out any viable reason she would have to be snooping, I couldn’t come up with one, so I sent her a quick text.

  Lennox: I changed my mind. Can you come here for a minute?

  The little dots jumped and her reply was quick.

  Sloane: I still have econ to study for . . .

  Lennox: I promise, I’ll be quick.

  Sloane: I feel like I’ve heard these words before. It can’t be quick.

  Despite my current mood, my cock twitched. Because she was right. I couldn’t be quick.

  Lennox: It’s important.

  Sloane: I’ll be right there.

  She arrived in less than three minutes. Concern was written on her face. “What’s the matter?”

  The letter burnt a hole in my hand. I knew I had to ask her. In my body, in my soul, I felt like I already knew the answer, but I needed her to tell me. “This letter, have you read it?”

  Her face, that beautiful elf-like face with the delicate features and her beautiful eyes, told me everything I needed to know about the truth in that moment. But I still needed her words. I needed to complete the process of her breaking my heart.

  “I can explain,” she whispered.

  I blinked at her and then sank down on my bed. “You can bloody explain?”

  Sloane ran a hand through her soft chin-length hair. “Look, I know. It was a huge breach of trust and downright pathetic of me, but you should know that when I took it, our relationship was nothing yet. We hated each other. And my father, he’d asked for some information, I didn’t know what to do then. I couldn’t refuse him, so I did it. Now that I know you, and now that we’ve—”

  I put a hand up to stop her talking. “Your father?”

  She paled. “Lennox, I’m so sorry.”

  Sorry.

  She had torn through my tender, fledgling trust of her, she had searched through my life without seeking any context, she had found the one thing in here that I’d poured the most of my heart into and planned to deliver it to my father . . . and she was sorry.

  You know fucking what?

  I was sorry too.

  “Even if I could accept that you didn’t know me before when you came into my room and read something that wasn’t yours, before you pretended to care about me, the fact that you’re trying to suggest you did it for your father makes me not want to believe a word you’ve said.”

  She started to shake. “Lennox, I do care about you. I didn’t then. Admittedly, we were on opposite sides.”

  “And what about after?”

  “I just—I’m sorry.”

  Her words were ineffectual, because how could you just say sorry? How could you just overlook the pain and think it could be okay. Sorry didn’t even begin to cut it. “Your father. You know what your father did to my family. You know, and you still broke in here to spy for him.” My voice stayed low, stayed cold.

  Even though everything inside me felt shredded and raw and hot.

  She started to stutter. “I—look, I know. I didn’t expect these feelings. And I thought you hated me. And that’s no excuse. I wanted to tell you. Especially after I knew you, I wished I hadn’t done it. I wish I had just told him no, but he knew the one thing that would get me to give in to his request, so I did it. But I want you to know that even though I broke your trust, I didn’t tell him about that letter. I just gave him the information on the computer.”

  I couldn’t breathe. In the place where my heart had been, something mangled and pulpy gave a sharp, sudden lurch. “My computer?”

  She swallowed hard. “I know I messed up.”

  “What did your father want? It must’ve been something big for you to offer your virginity to me for it, right? So what was he after?”

  She shivered at my cruel words, and I hated myself for caring, I hated myself for even noticing. She’d done this. She’d done this to us.

  Not me.

  Sloane swallowed, and I could see her doing the math if she should tell me the truth or not.

  I sighed and made it sound bored, the way I usually do. The way I pretended with other people, people who didn’t know me and never would. “Let me just make this simple for you. There’s nothing you can say that would make me care about you ever again, so you might as well tell me the truth. What would make you do this to me . . . to us?”

  Her beautiful face went from a flushed pink to stark chalk. “I guess there were some murmurings that your father had left accounts unreported and the government is still trying to recover those. Yours and Aurora’s accounts were untouchable, because you were minors, and you had trusts which were given by your grandparents. My father thought that maybe you and your trust could lead them to the money, or maybe you had access to the accounts that your dad had left behind. He wanted me to do research and see if I could find it.”

  “So your father asked you to fuck me and get access to my accounts?”

  She flinched as if I’d slapped her. “No. He didn’t. He asked me for information before I fell for you. Up until two weeks ago, I thought you hated me. Besides, I would never do that. Us getting together had nothing to do with my father.”

  Was she daft? “You can see how I don’t believe you, right?”

  Tears shimmered in her gaze, and I almost relented. I wanted to forgive her.

  I wanted to pull her into my arms and tell her that while I was angry, I couldn’t give her up.

  I also wanted to throttle her, legitimately watch as the light went out of her eyes. It was better if I didn’t touch her.

  “I know, Lennox. I’m really sorry. I just—I did it because it was my father. He’s all I have . . . all I’ve had for so long, and all I’d ever wanted was to be like him. But not anymore, and if I could go back in time, I
would.”

  “Well, too bad there’s no such thing as a time machine. At least I know what I’m dealing with now. You can go.”

  She reached for me. “But Lennox—”

  I forced my face into a mask, wiped it blank of any pain that I felt, because then she would see too much. “I said you can fucking go. I have nothing to say to you. We’re done. You know what, I was bothered by that idea of you and Rhys because he would have ruined you. But as it turned out you’re just like him. You’re a devil in disguise. You deserve someone like that.”

  She stepped toward me. “Lennox. I just—”

  For a moment, I let the mask drop. Just enough that she could see my anger, every sharp blade of it. So she could see exactly what I thought of her fucking lies, her fucked-up excuses.

  “What part of leave didn’t you understand?”

  It didn’t matter that every part of my soul was on fire. It didn’t matter that I just wanted to hold her and believe her explanations. None of that mattered, because she cut me deeper than my father ever could.

  Or hers.

  “Lennox, I didn’t tell him about who you were writing to. I didn’t tell him about the letter.”

  “I don’t believe you. Now get out.”

  I marched to the door, yanked it open, and waited for her to go through it. I was done. Done caring. Done obsessing over her. I was just done.

  21

  Sloane

  This was my fault. I knew it was my fault. What I hadn’t expected was quite this level of pain.

  What, you weren’t ever going to tell him?

  Maybe I hadn’t planned on telling him. What the hell did that say about me? I’d allowed myself to get so caught up in Lennox Lincoln-Ward wanting me that I forgot the simple basic tenet of being me. I believed in truth and justice, and I had wronged him.

  There was no point in crying about it. No point wallowing in the pain like I had been for the last week. I had made my own bed. I had done this to myself.