by Sofia Daniel
“You see.” He wiped away my last tear. “You’re not alone. We might seem like a happy, close-knit group, but it’s a facade that hides a myriad of hurts.”
“Thanks.” I gave him a peck on the lips. “For fighting to stay with me. And for making me feel less awful.”
That evening, I moved my makeshift pillows to his end of the bed, so we slept spooning each other. Henry’s hand rested on my belly, rubbing it in gentle circles. It was the balm I needed to soothe the hurt of the day’s disappointment and heartbreak. I let my eyes flutter closed and focused on the sensations of his large, warm palm and thick fingertips.
No one had ever caressed me to sleep like this. I’d been kissed before and petted, but this mattress and our conversations were the closest I’d ever been with another person except Noelle.
“You’re so much different from how I expected,” he murmured.
“Hmm?”
“Softer. Sweeter.” A finger slipped under the hem of my top and skimmed the bare skin above the waistband of my cargo pants.
I smiled. “Really?”
“Really.” The pads of his fingers made a soft, slow trail up to my bellybutton and rubbed gentle circles that made me squirm with delight. “I imagined someone as stunning as you would be arrogant and aloof, but you weren’t.” His warm breath on the back of my neck quickened, and he pushed his clothed erection into the backs of my thighs.
Arousal surged through my core, and I squeezed my legs together. He was only touching my belly and I could barely keep myself contained.
“You’re so beautiful.” He shifted on the bed, positioning his covered erection between the cleft of my clothed buttocks.
My right thigh slid over my left. Tiny pulses of my core muscles moved in time with the slow, steady movements of his hand on my belly. His hips moved in gentle circles, each stroke of his erection against my buttocks a form of sweet torture. If we were anywhere else, I would turn around, pull off his shirt and run my hands over those hard, thick muscles. But we were in this squalid room, where balaclava-clad kidnappers could walk in at any time.
“God, I want you so much,” he murmured.
I bit down hard on my bottom lip to stop myself from reciprocating. That interrupted kiss had left me aching for more than his touch. Telling him I felt the same would only escalate something I couldn’t bring myself to do until after we’d returned to the academy. After he’d proven that things wouldn’t switch back to his siding with the bullies.
I gasped out. “Don’t—”
“I heard you the first time. Not here. But you didn’t say I couldn’t touch.” His other hand snaked under my arm, along my collarbones, and cupped my shoulder. “See? I’m being the resolute gentleman.”
I huffed out a laugh. His hands might be staying within the realms of decency, but his hips weren’t. And neither was that thick erection. Grinding back with my own hips, I let out a happy sigh. I had no complaints.
“Hobson,” he gasped out.
“We should be on a first name basis by now, don’t you think, Henry?” I said.
“Emilia…” he kissed my earlobe. “I like the sound of my name on your lips.”
The heat pooling between my legs turned into an urgent ache, which wouldn’t be relieved from squeezing my thighs together. I unbuttoned my cargo pants, slipped my hand into my panties and circled my nub. Pleasure streaked through my core, making me bite down hard on my bottom lip to stifle a moan.
“Let me do that for you,” said Henry, his voice strained. His hand slipped into my panties and slid over mine. The weight of his fingers added pressure to my strokes, and I cried out. Henry’s breath quickened. His hips jerked against mine. “Please.”
“Alright.” I pulled my hand back, letting his finger slide over my sensitive bundle of nerves. “But don’t venture any further than this.”
“Yes,” he whispered.
Henry stroked and rubbed, making me buck against his fingers. At that moment, I could have stayed in that room with him forever, making each oncoming day an exploration of our minds and bodies. I’d opened myself to him, and he hadn’t mocked or judged. He had accepted me, just as I had accepted him. His fingers never strayed from my clit, even though my body yearned for more.
He continued those clever caresses, grinding out his own pleasure against my ass until my world splintered into a million pieces and remade itself into one where things might actually work between Henry and me. I threw back my head and gasped out my orgasm in several shuddering breaths. Henry trembled through his climax, holding me so tight, we were nearly one.
As I panted through the aftershocks, sleepy and content and heart full to bursting, I wondered how much closer we would become in the morning.
Chapter 15
The next time I awoke, the sun shone through my eyelids. I cracked them open to find myself lying on a bench on a country road with my head in Henry’s lap. When I lifted my head, it throbbed so hard, I had to slump back down.
Henry ran his fingers through my hair and murmured, “Welcome back.”
“What happened? Did they drug me again?”
“They must have done it while we were sleeping. I woke up sitting next to you and rearranged us to make you more comfortable.” A long, relieved breath heaved out from his lips. “I can’t believe we survived that. And that you’re safe. When they wanted to keep you with them…”
I glanced up into his pained face. The morning sun shone through his blond curls, making them glimmer like spun gold. Even the stubble on his cheeks shone like a smattering of gold dust. The muscles around his eyes tightened and I nearly choked at the sight of them so close and in the light. They weren’t the color of emeralds but far richer. Bursts of blues and yellows and greens mingled from the pupils, where the colors coalesced around the edges into the deepest shade of peridot. Thick, golden lashes framed the entire effect, reminding me of the gilded portraits around the academy.
I could have lost myself forever in those orbs had the wind not blown a strand of auburn hair into my face. I squeezed my eyes shut and exhaled. Whatever was in that drug was exaggerating my perceptions. “Do you have a migraine, too?” I pulled myself up, this time, keeping my head down. “Because my head feels like it’s been struck with a hammer.”
“No, but I’m twice your size,” he said. “I probably metabolized the drugs while I slept.”
“Right.” I stood and swayed on my feet. Transparent stars swam before my eyes, and I blinked several times to clear my vision. “Let’s call the police.”
Henry placed both hands on my shoulders and held me steady. “Don’t. They warned me that they have an inside man at Mercia Academy. If we tell anyone anything about what we saw, they’ll kill us.”
“Who’s going to pick us up if we don’t call the police?”
He gave me a crooked smile. “Don’t you know where we are?”
I glanced around at a field full of sheep. The land was flat and the air less crisp, so we couldn’t be back in the Peak District. “Where?”
“Outside Mercia village. We can call the academy and ask for a car. There’s a phone box at the end of the road. Let me carry you the distance.”
I refused, of course. No matter how close I’d become to Henry during our captivity, things would change when we returned to Mercia Academy, and now was the time for a bit of distance to cushion the impact of his return to the triumvirate. He had said things wouldn’t change, but he’d also expressed the importance of his friendships and the deep connection he had formed with Edward and Blake over the years. No matter how earnest he appeared, I wouldn’t hold onto any foolish hope.
We spent the next half hour walking down a country road, through foot-deep piles of fallen leaves and under a canopy of skeletal branches with amber-colored leaves. When we spotted the red phone box at the corner of the village, we picked up our pace.
“Can we call collect?” I asked.
“No need.” He jingled the change in his pocket. “I have enough
for a quick phone call and a pot of tea for two at the village bakery.”
I jogged to keep up with his long, fast strides. “I’ll take that over another lukewarm bottle of plasticky water.”
Of all the people Henry could have called for help, he chose our housemaster, the ineffective Mr. Jenkins, explaining that the headmaster was always too busy with outside matters to bother with a case of missing students.
While we waited, Henry placed both hands on my waist. “When we return, I’ll acknowledge you as my friend.”
A thin coating of ice formed on my heart. I hadn’t given it much thought, but I’d hoped we’d be more than just friends after last night. I forced my lips into a smile. “Thanks. I appreciate that.”
“And the others won’t give you any trouble.” He wrinkled his nose. “Although I can’t make any promises about Charlotte.”
“I can deal with her,” I muttered.
About five minutes later, a four-by-four arrived with Mr. Carbuncle at the wheel. Even the sight of his shifty, mustached face couldn’t dampen my relief. He rolled down the window on the passenger side and said, “You’re back, then?”
Henry opened the back door, ushered me inside, sat next to me and laced his fingers through mine. I swept my gaze from our intertwined hands, up his arms, and to his face.
An earnestness shone in his green eyes that made my stomach quiver. “Thank you for making pleasant what could have been harrowing. I’m not sure if I would have survived it without you.”
The ice around my heart melted, and warmth filled my chest. I’d been silly to have gotten upset at his declaration of friendship. We’d only been together for a few days, and I couldn’t expect a proclamation of love. The village of thatched roofs and stone-brick buildings rushed past the corner of my eye, followed by huge fields bordered by trees whose leaves had yellowed or fallen off. Instead of looking at the autumn scenery, I kept my gaze fixed on Henry’s as if searching into his soul. When my eyes traveled down to his lips, he leaned across the seat and gave me a chaste kiss.
“No canoodling at the back,” snapped Mr. Carbuncle.
We both ignored him and shared a few more kisses.
Instead of dropping us at the double doors of the main building, the janitor drove past it and down a side road that looped around the vast estate. Butterflies stirred in my stomach. The morning we left the academy seemed an eternity ago. Henry squeezed my hand as though assuring me that things would be different.
Mr. Jenkins stood outside the doors to Elder House, hands clasped, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet. As soon as the car stopped, he rushed down the steps. “Mr. Bourneville, Miss Hobson! Are you alright? Do you need medical attention? An associate of your parents informed us of your situation, but we’ve kept it quiet, as requested.”
Edward and Blake emerged from the wooden doors and strode down the stairs like a pair of princes. Edward glanced from Henry to me, staring with an intensity I couldn’t decipher. Whatever was on his mind, it wasn’t the usual hatred.
Blake broke formation and grinned, wrapping his arms around Henry. “Welcome back, Henry.” Then he broke away and gave me the longest, bone-crushing hug. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you, Emilia. Are you hurt? Is there anything you need?”
He drew back, encasing the sides of my face in a lover’s caress, chocolate brown eyes radiating genuine concern. All my words evaporated into thin air, leaving me slack-jawed. Blake had always been flirtatious, but that had been his womanizing. Other than a few half-hearted attempts to sleep with me, he had participated in most of the bullying. My gaze flickered to Henry, who nodded and gave me an encouraging smile.
I licked my dry lips. “I’m… fine. Thank you.”
He closed his eyes, exhaled a relieved breath, and pressed a kiss on my forehead. I turned to Henry again, who shrugged. Did the triumvirate have a form of mental communication I knew nothing about, or was something else going on?
Edward’s brows drew together in a pained expression, and his posture straightened in an English way I’d only seen in period TV dramas. Slightly regimented, polite, yet dashing. He cleared his throat. “Miss Hobson, I apologize unreservedly for the way I’ve conducted myself since you joined Mercia Academy. You were right. It was unbecoming of the Duchy of Mercia, unbecoming of the school, and unbecoming of me. From this moment onward, I swear you’ll meet a different Edward Mercia.”
My heels ground into the gravel path, and I had to blink a dozen times to let his words sink in. Edward… apologizing? I wanted to ask why now, but it was probably guilt at having gone too far with their bullying. I would have asked Rita, but I doubted that any occasion would have arisen for them to make such assurances to her.
“Thank you.” I held out my hand to shake on his promise. “I accept your apology.”
Edward wrapped his fingers around mine, sending a jolt of sensation into my heart. Instead of shaking my hand, he brought my knuckles to his lips for the lightest of pecks. The sensation quickened, and I sucked in a sharp breath through my nostrils. Whether the gallant kiss had excited me, or the fact that a future British duke had done it, or because it had been Edward, I didn’t know, but I hoped that wouldn’t be the last time he would kiss me.
Henry placed his large hand on the small of my back and guided me up the stairs, through the doors, and through the hallways and stairs, just as Blake had on my first day. Back then, I hadn’t known what to expect from Mercia Academy. A little snobbery and a few barbed comments, perhaps, but none of the shockingly vicious attacks I’d suffered.
The footsteps of five men echoed through the hallways as Henry, Edward, Blake, Mr. Jenkins, and even Mr. Carbuncle, walked me to my room.
The janitor handed me my key and stepped back. “Here we are, Miss Hobson. It’s all there like you left it.”
I turned around and gave them what I hoped would be a bracing smile. “I’m fine, everyone. Just longing for a hot shower.”
Mr. Jenkins beamed, while the other four had the decency to glance away. The adrenaline that had kept me going throughout the kidnapping had crashed, leaving my body and my spirits too heavy to even comment on the incident with the tampered shampoo.
“Thank you.” I unlocked the door, stepped into the room, and rested my back against the closed door. A rush of mingled emotions swirled and expanded within my chest, threatening to spill out into tears. Relief at leaving that squalid room, sadness that Mom hadn’t been here to welcome me, and confusion about the triumvirate.
I ran a hand down the side of my face and blew out a breath. The most optimistic part of me, the one that believed in Henry, thought he would take weeks to change his friends’ opinions about me. Blake’s reaction hadn’t been completely out of character. He was never unpleasant if I encountered him alone. But Edward had shown me nothing but threats and hostility from the day we met. How could I believe he could change just because I got kidnapped?
I tore off my clothes, put on a robe, turned on the shower, and waited. Waited for the blue dye, for the water to turn cold, or for it to stop altogether, but it streamed down, hot and plentiful. My hair was a greasy mess from not having washed it for so long, and my skin a cesspool of sebum from a daily diet of Snickers bars and potato chips.
I stood underneath the hot spray, gasping with relief at the feel of clean, clear water. After testing my shower gel and shampoo for signs of tampering, I scrubbed myself raw. Washed myself of the grime, the mustiness, the squalor, and the fear of that awful place. There were only two things I held onto: the memories of my intimacy with Henry, and the list of items I’d been memorizing for days.
“City.” I dug my nails into my scalp. “Pot-holes, Mulberry Terrace, broken furniture in the front garden, three-story house, hippies, marijuana, Caz and Stokes, blonde dreadlocked photographer, man in the beanie hat, Loki.”
I repeated the words over and over until the steam and hot water made me so dizzy, I staggered out and scribbled the list out, along with everything else I
could remember of my kidnapping.
The door burst open, and Rita ran inside. “Emilia!”
I shot to my feet. “Rita?”
She barreled into me, tiny body knocking me off my feet and onto my bed. “You’ve been gone for nine days. Everyone was talking about it, but the teachers were saying nothing.” She drew back, dark eyes wild. “I thought—”
Her face crumpled and she burst into racking sobs.
“What’s wrong?” I placed a hand on her trembling shoulder.
She shook her head and kept it bowed.
“Rita?” I pulled her next to me on the bed, wincing at the feel of her sharp bones. In the past week, she seemed to have lost all the weight she’d gained.
“I thought they’d kill you,” she rasped.
I stayed silent and waited for her to continue. Maybe this was the time she would confide in me about the extent of the bullying she’d suffered last year.
She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “That morning, when you’d gone missing for the whole day, I’d thought they’d left you somewhere like the edge of a cliff, or in the middle of the motorway, where you’d be sure to have an accident and break your neck. But when you didn’t turn up after following Bourneville into the forest, I thought he’d finished the job.”
I gasped. “Rita!”
“I’m not the only one who came to that conclusion. A few of the other scholarship students approached me with their suspicions, too. They thought you were dead, and he’d flown to a country without an extradition treaty with the UK.”
I shook my head. Normally, I would have smiled, but she’d seen more of the triumvirate and experienced more of their cruelty. “Don’t mention this to anyone, but Bourneville was kidnapped, and they took me because I’d seen them and tried to raise the alarm.”
Her eyes widened. “Is that where you’ve been?”
I nodded. “They kept us in a room together. We’ve…” A warm glow formed behind my ribs, and I couldn’t help the tiny smile that curved my lips. “We’ve become friends, and Mercia and Simpson-West apologized. Things might be different from now on.”