by Hart, Callie
Smart girls don’t tangle with the devil.
Girls who have a good head on their shoulders steer clear of this kind of trouble.
I used to know exactly who I was—someone who’d make the right call when faced with temptation. I’m only realizing now that I’ve never truly been tempted before. It was easy to walk away from parties, and booze, and cute boys when I was back in Tel Aviv. My father made it easy. The promise of a hot and heavy make out session with a guy I liked couldn’t compare to the never-ending world of shit I’d be in if my father found out. But Wren…fuck, I’ve never wanted anything as much as I want Wren. And no matter how stupid it is, I’d risk everything to have him.
He grabs his dick, too, groping squeezing himself with both hands now, his eyes hazy and unfocused as he approaches the bed. “Since you’ve made it perfectly clear that you’re disinclined to beg, I’m gonna need you to tell me what you want out of this situation.”
My heart trips and topples over the edge of a forty-foot cliff, taking my stomach with it. “Probably more than you have to give,” I admit in a timid voice.
He seems intrigued by that. “You’re not talking about my body. You’re talking about something else.”
I’m frayed, coming apart at the seams. I’m aching and burning for him so fucking badly that I don’t even know what I want anymore.
“You don’t know what you’re asking for,” he says, the words dark and full of gravel, promising pain untold. “There’s only so much of me a person can take before it starts to hurt, Little E. And no, I am not talking about my dick.” He smirks ruthlessly. “My heart’s a grenade. It’s safer where it is, locked in its cage. You take it outta there and you’re essentially pulling the pin.”
“What happens then?” I’m shaking all over.
Wren’s reached the bottom of the bed. He lets go of his straining erection and places his hands on my ankles, curling his fingers around them tightly. “I don’t know. No one’s ever tried.”
He drags me toward him by my feet and claims me as his prize.
23
WREN
Christmas Morning.
Wren Jacobi, a tender six-year-old boy, sat down next to his twin sister and waited eagerly to open his presents. At seven, eight, nine, and ten, he did the same, heart beating out of his chest, unable to contain the excitement at what delights he might find inside the stacks of colorfully wrapped and ribboned gifts that awaited him.
All of those Christmases combined don’t even come close to the excitement I feel now, as I pull Elodie down the mattress toward me. I’m no longer a naïve little boy, filled with juvenile anticipation over a box of Legos. No, now I’m far more interested in taking things apart than putting them together, and Elodie promises to be the most precious gift of all.
The part of me that took that photo of her from Harcourt’s desk—the very same part of me that relished the prospect of breaking her heart and making her cry—rears its ugly head, making all sorts of vile commands. My dick strains harder, and my blood roars through my veins, an unstoppable, deadly tidal wave…but I close a fist around that dark shadow, banishing it from my mind. Wren from three weeks ago would have already figured out what cruel, cold thing he was going to say to Elodie once he’d had his fill of her tonight, but now I’m left scrambling, turned around and unsure what the fuck I’m going to do once this is over.
I won’t shatter her, though. I’ll make her fall to pieces in my arms, and I’ll watch her splinter apart as she comes. After that, who knows what the fuck comes next. Anyone’s guess is as good as mine.
Her eyelashes flutter like butterfly’s wings as she looks up at me, her winter-blue eyes full of desire and panic. Her tongue darts out wetting her bottom lip, and I beat back a snarl at the sight of it. “Answer me, E. What do you want? How far do you want this to go?”
Mrs. Hopkins, our hapless statistics teacher, drew the short straw the day the students of Wolf Hall had to be given the whole consent talk. She’d be proud as hell of me right now. ‘Boys, I know you’re all far too young to be thinking about sex yet (hah de fucking hah) but you must always make sure you that your lady friend consents to your advances. If you don’t hear a clear yes from her, then always better to assume that, uh, it’s a no.’ Her pride would be misplaced, though. I’m not asking for Elodie’s consent. She already gave it, the moment she announced she was coming up to my fucking room in front of Pax and Dash. No, I want to know just how filthy my precious Little E is gonna let me be.
She wriggles, her chest rising and falling rapidly, her toes curling against the flat of my stomach. God, I want to bite her. I want to fucking consume her. I want to take all of that beautiful blonde hair and wrap it around my fist as I drive her mouth down as deep as she can go onto my cock. Her eyes shutter, like she has a window into my depraved, debauched mind, and what she sees through it is making her unravel. “You know what I want,” she says.
Ahhh, poor Little E needs to loosen up that tongue of hers. I have a few tricks up my sleeve that should grease those gears. One step at a time, though. Still holding both her ankles, I spread her legs apart, holding her feet on either side of my thighs. The taut cord inside me—what passes for my patience—pulls even tighter, threatening to snap, when I see the damp patch of silk in between her legs. Her pussy’s already wet enough to have soaked through her panties. “Oh, E.”
She squirms, two twin patches of color burning high on her cheek bones, trying to close her legs at the knee, but I jerk roughly on her ankles, slowly shaking my head. “Don’t. You didn’t fucking come here to hide yourself from me. You know you didn’t. Don’t you want me to taste your cunt?” I’m straight forward. To the point. Her cheeks flame even redder, and that twisted, wicked part of me crows.
“Yes,” she says quietly. “I do.”
“Good. You want me to fuck you with my fingers?”
“Yes.”
“You want me to fuck you with this?” I ask, grabbing hold of my cock.
She shudders, goosebumps forming underneath my palms, covering her legs and the flat, toned stomach she’s been hiding under those massive, stupid fucking t-shirts she wears. I watch, fascinated beyond belief, as she nods her head. “Yes.”
“You want me to come inside you? You want to feel my dick getting harder as I get closer and closer?”
“Yes.” Now that she’s admitted that she wants my cock, the word comes out a little easier; poor girl probably thinks that’s the hardest thing I’m gonna make her admit to. I haven’t even gotten started.
“Take your bra off,” I command. “Panties, too. Put them on the nightstand.”
She hesitates for a second, pulling in a deep breath through her nose.
“Now, Elodie.”
Fire and brimstone simmer in her eyes, a little of that defiant spirit finally breaking through her nerves. There’s a message for me on her face, plain as day, as she sits up, reaching behind her back to unfasten her bra: Careful, Jacobi. Talk to me like that again and I’ll bite your fucking dick off.
I’d probably let her, too, if it meant she’d slipped it inside that pretty mouth first.
She never takes her eyes off me as she shrugs her bra straps from her shoulders and the material drops, leaving her chest bare. She’s fucking perfect, just like I knew she would be. Not big, and not small, her tits are the perfect fucking size. Her skin is like fresh poured cream, completely flawless. Her nipples are the softest shade of pink, so pale and pretty that I can’t stop myself from groaning. My mouth’s already watering at the prospect of sucking on those nipples. My hands are aching, begging to be full of her. Elodie smiles as she shimmies her panties over her hips, pushing them down her thighs.
The cord inside me snaps.
I grab the black, sheer material, ripping it from her body with one hand, baring my teeth in an approximation of a smile as I offer them back to her. “On the nightstand,” I repeat. “Then on your back for me, Little E. I want to get a proper look at you.”
Mercilessly slow, I climb up onto the bed and crawl up the mattress, shoving her legs open again so that I’m kneeling between them. She closes her eyes for a second, knowing what’s coming.
“Open,” I order. “All the way. I want to see all of you. Your clit. Your pussy. Your asshole. Wider, Elodie.” I growl when she only inches her legs apart a fraction. “Wider.”
Her legs tremble as she gives me what I want. I bite the inside of my cheek, staring down at her, losing my fucking mind as I scan every minute detail of her most secret, most sacred parts. Her clit’s swollen and glistening, wet like a pearl. Her flesh is slick, flushed darker around her opening, but a pale, pale pink like her nipples everywhere else. I’ve never really cared about anal before, but my need to inspect Elodie’s asshole is tantamount to fucking criminal. She’s so good, so pure, that witnessing the most taboo part of her angelic body makes my dick so hard that it feels like I’ll come if she so much as fucking breathes in my direction.
I don’t fuck around.
I don’t hold back.
I reach out and I touch her like I already own her, like she’s always been mine. Her wet heat coats my fingertips, covering them in her desire, and I cannot fucking look away. She goes stiff, so rigid that fingers drive into the sheets, forming fists around the material. When I look up at her, her eyes are clenched shut.
“Breathe,” I tell her. “Unless you’re into auto-erotic asphyxiation. In which case, carry on.”
She inhales, her ribs showing through her skin, her tits heaving, nipples peaked—the most devastatingly beautiful thing I’ve ever seen—and when she breathes out, I push my fingers inside her. Inside her pussy and her ass.
Her eyes fly open. “Holy fuck,” she hisses. God knows how she does it, but she locks her legs up even tighter. The pressure around my fingers, up to the second knuckle inside of her, reaches intense levels as she fights to accommodate the alien sensation. God, this is just too fucking good…
“I knew you’d been fucked before,” I snarl. “But you’ve been holding out on me, Little E. You’re ass is virgin, isn’t it?”
She blows out a long, steady, calming breath, nodding her head against the pillows. “Ahh…yes,” she whispers.
“Are you going to let me fuck you there?” I rumble.
She pants, breathing in sharp, shallow gasps. “Yes,” she says. “I—I—oh my god…”
Too pleased to think straight, I take my hand away, and she melts right into the mattress. I am going to have a lot of fun with this girl. If my suspicions are right, she’ll be the most fun I’ve ever had. Before she can open her eyes, I drop down onto my stomach, my cock complaining bitterly at the lack of attention, and I sink myself down between her legs, burying myself in her pussy.
“Fuck! Oh—oh gggo—WREN!”
Using my front teeth, I nip savagely at the inside of her thigh. “No.” I chide her like she’s a misbehaving child. “What did I tell you? Pax and Dash can’t hear this.” I can’t tell her how miserable my housemates will make her life if they know about this. They’ll taunt and ridicule her in front of everyone at the academy, and I won’t fucking have that.
She looks down the length of her body, nodding frantically. “Okay. Okay.”
Once I trust that she’s got a handle on herself, her bottom lip firmly trapped between her teeth…I get to work.
Eating pussy well is not just a skill. It’s a God-given talent that I’ve been reliably informed not all men are blessed with. I can have a girl screaming and shaking with nothing more than the very tip of my tongue in less than a minute, though. I can have her denouncing her god and claiming me as her new religion in the time it takes most men to figure out where the clitoris is. Eating a girl’s cunt is intimate as shit, though. I rarely like a girl enough to bother with it at all, but tonight’s different.
If I could spend the rest of my life with my face buried in Elodie Stillwater’s sweet, perfect pussy, I would die a happy death. She fists my hair, her thighs squeezing around my head, and I take my fucking time with her. Her frantic, staccato breathing brings her to the edge of hyperventilating while I lick, and lave, and suck, driving my tongue inside her and fucking her with it. Three separate times, she bucks against my mouth, pleading and whispering for me to let her come before I give in and shove her over the edge of her climax, sucking the sweetness of her into my mouth, allowing her to coat my tongue as she comes.
She’s fucking magnificent. She’s incredible. She’s mesmerizing as she writhes beneath me, shivering out her pleasure, and I feel something jarring grind to a halt in my brain. Like a clock that’s been tick, tick, ticking for the past three years, has suddenly just…stopped.
The silence is deafening.
Sitting back onto my heels, I lick her from my lips, savoring the taste. The restraint I’ve been showing up until now has finally run out. “On your stomach,” I tell her. Elodie peers up at me through hooded eyes, her lips swollen and red. The post orgasm glow she’s radiating makes me want to fucking weep. She’s so fucking beautiful.
Until I see the flicker of hurt on her face. She gets up onto her knees, turns around, then lowers herself onto her front. “Face down, ass up, right?” she says in a harsh voice.
I grab her hips and pull them back toward me, so that she has to go up onto her knees. So that I can see all of her perfect cunt, and her perfect, tight little asshole, as I settle myself behind her. I take my cock in my hands, relief already washing through with the knowledge that I’ll be up to the hilt inside her in a moment. I rub the tip of it up and down between her legs, smearing her come all over her flesh, making her quake.
“Has anyone ever told you how lovely you are, Little E? Has anyone ever worshipped you the way you were built to be worshipped?”
She shakes her head, jumping when I lightly trace my fingers over the center of her. Oh, E. I’ll show you what it is to be worshipped. I’ll show you just how good it can feel to be deified by a guy like me. She’s trembling, rocking her hips back, rubbing herself on me by the time I decide to stop teasing her and I sink myself into her pussy.
“Jesus…fucking…Christ!” There’s no resistance, but she’s so fucking tight, it wouldn’t take much to convince me that she is a virgin. Her shoulders stiffen, a cry working free from her lips, and we both go very still for a long moment, coming to terms with what’s just happened. I’m inside her. I’m fucking inside her, and she feels so, so good.
“Wren—” she pants, her fingers grasping for the sheet again. And everything changes in the space between heartbeats.
What the fuck am I doing?
What the fuck am I doing to her?
Something nasty and uncomfortable creeps up the back of my neck—a strange and unfamiliar sensation that makes me pull away, gritting my teeth together so hard I hear one of them crack. My dick bobs, glossy with both our lust now, begging for me to thrust it back inside her…but I can’t. Not like this.
Elodie looks back at me, and there are two small, vertical lines between her eyebrows, worry in her eyes. “What—did I do something—”
“God, no,” I growl. In one swift move, I lunge for her, wrapping my arm around her waist and lifting her off the mattress. It’s the work of a second to slide myself to the edge of the bed, spin her around and plant her on my lap so that she’s facing me. She doesn’t resist as I grab her legs, guiding them around my waist.
Her face is three inches away from mine as I roll my hips back and up, guiding myself up so that I’m spearing her on my cock. Her head tips back, her eyes losing their focus, and she goes stiff in my arms again, hissing out a startled, “Shit! Oh my g—holy shit, Wren.”
I share her sentiments. It felt frigh
teningly good being inside her from behind, but now that we’re face to face and she’s clinging onto me like I’m the only thing keeping her afloat in a sea of madness, it feels… I don’t even know how to describe it.
Holding my breath, not wanting to move too quickly, I place one hand in the center of her back, pulling her closer to me, and I cup her neck, guiding her head back up so I can bring my mouth down on hers…
She huffs, her tongue sweet and tentative as she sweeps it past my lips into my mouth. I’m usually the one to claim a girl’s mouth, but shit…I hold very still while she kisses me, tasting and exploring me with a curiosity and a determined need of her own that makes my heart thump like a drum in my chest.
She rocks, grinding her hips against me, sliding up the length of my dick, and fucking fireworks light up the inside of my skull.
Fireworks.
Goddamn, bona fide fireworks.
It’s like the fucking fourth of July inside my head as I lean into her and I finally let myself kiss her back. Her breath skates across my face, her tits smashed up against my chest, and I lose all hope of controlling myself. It feels too good. It feels too strange. It feels new, and weird, and so intense, this bizarre connection that I’m feeling, that I don’t even know what to do with my hands. So, I give in. I stop trying to rein myself in, and I let it all happen.
We move as one, grinding against each other, mindlessly devouring each other’s mouths, and I don’t even know if she’s keeping quiet anymore. I don’t know if I’m keeping quiet. The only thing that matters is the feeling of her wrapped around me. Her mouth on my mouth. Her breath and my breath. My hands on her skin, and hers on mine, her nails raking across my back, the desperate, wordless pleading in her eyes as she arches away from me, her head falling back, and she shudders as she comes.