I knew what he was doing. He was testing me. Seeing if I would react like the bashful virgin that I really was. But I liked keeping him guessing. Maybe Godfrey had rubbed off on me, or maybe I just never did like to back down from a challenge. Rogue wanted to call me on my bluff, but now that I wasn’t shying away, he was unsure if I was lying or not. Plus, the game had changed. It wasn’t just him taunting me sexually. I was taunting him too, and we were both enjoying it. We both liked a little fight.
I glanced outside through the tinted windows and saw that we were only about ten minutes from his estate. While I was distractedly staring at the historic houses towering over the street, Rogue lifted me off his lap and slammed me down onto the bench seat, making a puff of air escape me.
In the next second, he’d shoved his jeans and boxers down and yanked out a condom from his pocket. Pulling the rubber over his cock, I tried not to think about why he kept condoms in his pocket. Rogue wasn’t mine. Jealousy was a pointless emotion where he was concerned.
He wasted no time in bracing on top of me, pressing my body into the leather. We didn’t kiss again. It skirted intimate, and neither of us could handle actually feeling something about each other. Instead, he positioned his cock at my entrance, looking at me with that devilish grin that I used to dream about. “You gonna tell me the truth now, Scar? You gonna tell me how this pretty pussy is untouched?”
He inched closer, barely breaching inside of me, and I whimpered. I balled my hands into fists and pounded at his chest, pushing him away, and then in the next second, I wrapped my hands at his neck and pulled him back.
I placed my lips at his ears, darting my tongue out against the sensitive part of his flesh before whispering the words I hoped would destroy his ego. “If I were untouched, you think I’d let you be my first, Rogue Kelly?”
He immediately pulled back, his expression a mixture of dark anger and greedy desire. Narrowing his eyes, he moved his hips, bumping against my entrance once more. “I think you’re half ready to beg me, Scar.”
A gasp escaped me, and another thrill raced down my spine. How far could I let this game go? How much more could I handle? Did I want him to stop?
“Say it,” he ordered maliciously, just as he pushed closer, pressing against that barrier that held my innocence to remind me of his challenge.
My pulse was racing, warning me that once we went too far, there was no going back. Why the fuck did that idea excite me so damn much? “Say what?” I asked before pressing against him, daring him to take this all the way.
“Tell me you’re a virgin. And then tell me you want my cock to fuck your pussy. Admit that you want me,” he demanded, his voice hard. “Me. Not anybody else.”
“No.”
Rogue shoved his hand up my shirt and grabbed my breast, kneading my flesh in an almost painful way. I arched my hips up to meet him, panting as he pressed dangerously farther. One exhale, and Rogue would be inside me. One fucking exhale.
“Tell me, Scar. Tell me you aren’t the Trash Whore everyone thinks you are. You’re an innocent, inexperienced virgin, and the only cock you want inside of you is mine.”
My body locked up. Every muscle, every goddamn cell in my body, froze at those two little words.
Whore. Trash.
Shame filled me, and I immediately shut down. I slapped his hand at my breast away. I needed him off of me. I needed distance. Rogue must have seen the change in me, because his own gaze faltered for a split second, so quick I’d almost missed it. I pushed against him more, desperate to get out from under him, but the bastard didn’t budge. This was still a game—still war—for him.
Feeling frantic, I stuttered the first thing I knew would end this game. “Fuck! I’m a virgin, okay?”
The moment the words escaped my lips, I felt like screaming. I still wanted to win. I wanted Rogue Kelly to finish what he started, but I didn’t want him to think of me as the trash every goddamn person at Smith Academy kept calling me.
Rogue stalled his movement and then smiled down at me cruelly. “Now, Scarlett. That’s what I like to hear.”
I braced both my hands against his chest and shoved again, pushing hard until he was off me. Glancing outside, I saw that we were pulling up his driveway. What was left of my yoga pants was on the floor and I scrambled to slip them on, avoiding the long tear in the fabric that traveled down my thigh.
“What the fuck are you doing?” he asked as the car parked, but I didn’t answer him. He wanted to take the trash out? Fine. I’d be out of his goddamn life.
Chapter Eighteen
“Scarlett!”
There was a fire in my step as I rushed out of the car and up the stone steps to the Kelly estate. The slice of thigh that was exposed from the tear in my pants felt like a brand.
I almost fucked Rogue Kelly. He was right that I’d always wanted him, but the jackass didn’t have to rub it in my face and act like it was a stupid crush that wasn’t reciprocated. But then, did I really expect anything different? Before things went to shit, I’d been trying to work up the courage to make a move. Since our kiss in eighth grade, there had been nothing else between us except flirtatiousness, but I had that with all of the Heirs. I would’ve even risked fucking up the group dynamic for a chance with him. Maybe it was stupid, but I’d always thought it would end up being Rogue and I at the end.
I was wrong.
Trash Whore. That’s who I was to him now. That’s who I was to everyone.
I couldn’t get those words out of my head as I pulled open his door and slammed it behind me. I heard him curse as he nearly crashed into it, before yanking it open again. He threw the door closed, making it hit the frame so hard that the windows rattled.
“Scar! Get the fuck back here!”
I looked over my shoulder, seeing him racing after me, and I stopped all pretense and just started running. But he was on me before I could make it to the stairs. His hands wrapped around my shoulders and then the force of my momentum and his added weight sent me careening into the wall.
“Get off me!” I screamed, trying to buck out of his hold.
But he just wrapped one arm around my middle, pinning me in place.
“Just fucking stop for one goddamn second and tell me what’s going through your head!” he yelled, making me wince.
“You! You’re going through my head!” I snapped back, my face on fire with fury and pain. “I’m not your fucking Trash Whore, and you know it! So why’d you have to say that? Out of everything, why that?”
I didn’t realize I was crying until I tasted salt on my lips.
He froze behind me, while I couldn’t seem to hold still. I braced my hands against the wall, and, using my leg strength from years in gymnastics, I tucked a leg between his and hooked my leg around his. I then bent my knees and used all my strength to take him down.
His knees bent from the surprise force, and he fell back on his ass, his hands automatically reaching out to try to catch his fall. I immediately bounced up, but before I could get away, he snagged a hand around my ankle and tugged. I fell forward, my hands catching me, and then I was flipped over and his body was over mine. It was exactly like the night of the murder, when he’d caught me and pinned me down.
“I hate you,” I spat at him.
His brown eyes tracked my every tear. “No, you don’t.”
And that was the crux of it. He was absolutely right.
“Shut up!” I screamed in his face.
“No, you fucking shut up,” he snarled, moving so a hand took hold of my jaw. “You are not a Trash Whore. Alright? You’re not, and I’ve never once thought you were.”
His words stunned me, and I stopped struggling beneath him for a moment to let them sink in. We lay there, panting, watching each other, and my furious pain mixed with the blooming heat between us.
“I don’t believe you. You’re a liar,” I told him.
“I am,” he nodded unabashedly. “But not about this.”
Hearing him say
that he didn’t think I was trash did something to me. Despite everything, I still cared what they thought about me. What he thought about me. And this, right here? Maybe it was fucking stupid, but him fighting me showed that he at least cared enough to fight.
“You drive me fucking crazy,” he admitted.
“I despise you,” I lied.
Instead of getting pissed, he grinned. “Yeah?” he taunted, and he moved his hips, letting me feel how hard he still was. I bit my lip, and his eyes immediately dipped to my mouth. “If I touched you right now, I bet I’d find that you’re soaking wet for me. I bet you don’t despise me at all.”
In response, I drove my hips up, grinding against his erection, forcing him to let out a groan. “Looks like you’re having trouble despising me, too,” I jeered.
“So, what do you want to do about it?” he challenged.
I knew what I wanted. It was just too fucked up for me to admit out loud.
But Rogue never let me off the hook. He saw what I wanted, because he’d always been able to read me like a book. “Say it.”
I shook my head, and he ground himself against me once more, his dick hitting my clit, causing harsh friction against our clothing, and I shuddered.
“Say it, Scar,” he said, rocking back and forth.
I leaned up, gathered his scruffy skin along his jawbone between my teeth, and bit down hard. “Fucking hell, just say it!” he snapped, jerking away from me.
“I want you to prove that you don’t think I’m a Trash Whore, you asshole!” I shouted into his face. “I want you to fuck all of the bad memories out of me. And I want to make you hurt the way you made me hurt,” I growled, my breasts pressing against his chest every time I took a gasping breath.
His eyes glittered down at me with bitterness. I looked back at him with enmity. We inhaled each other’s want, and exhaled a hostile desire that we couldn’t fight.
He was the king of cruel, and I basked in his reign.
“Then do it,” he told me.
So I did.
I reached up and grabbed him by the hair, yanking strands out in my strong grip as I forced his mouth on mine. He didn’t try to pull away. Not even when I devoured him whole, my teeth sinking into his bottom lip hard enough to draw blood. I licked the red with the tip of my tongue, tasting him, relishing in the copper tang that gave me power.
I moved my hands to the bottom of his shirt and pulled, his mouth ripping away from mine so that I could toss it away. I wanted to feel his skin. I needed to feel him against me, so that the coldness in my soul could thaw out from our torrid tempers.
Rogue countered my movement by pulling my own shirt up and over my head. My sports bra was tight against my breasts, my cleavage on full display as the material bit into my skin in an uncomfortable way. I arched up again, showing him what I wanted. He obliged by grabbing hold of the front of my bra with both hands. Then he ripped.
The material gave way to his muscular arms, and he tossed it away, and holy fuck, it was the single most hottest thing I’d ever experienced in my life. It was animalistic and dominating, and so damn sexy.
In the next second, he hauled me to my feet. I kicked off my sneakers and shoved him in the chest as hard as I could, making him stumble back. He straightened, and with only a couple feet between us, we stared each other down like two predators poised to attack.
His intense eyes dragged up and down my body, and I flicked my gaze over his chiseled chest and abs, admiring the dark lines of his tattoos that crept over his skin. The tattoo on his left pec was smaller than his hand, and was just a simple black square. It had been the first tattoo he’d gotten, when he was fifteen. All four of the Heirs had gotten the same one, in different places. It represented the four of them and their brotherhood. But my eyes immediately honed in on what was now in the center of the Heir square. A blood-red crown.
My gaze shot up to him. “What is that?”
“You know what it is.”
I could see the crown, and half of my brain understood that he’d gotten it for me. Every piece of jewelry, shirt or souvenier the guys had ever gotten me had some form of a crown poised on it. I was once the Queen of the Heirs, or so they dubbed me with that title when we were kids. But as I stared at the tattoo, I couldn’t register what it meant. He hadn’t had that before. We’d been hanging out in Bonham’s hot tub just the week before they threw me away, so I would’ve seen it. Which means he’d gotten this tattoo after. I didn’t know what that meant. I didn’t know if this was just another elaborate way to fuck with me or not. So because I didn’t trust him, not for a single second, the symbolism that he’d marked on his body made my temper blaze even hotter.
“Fuck you,” I hissed.
The edge of his lips tilted up in a smug smirk. “I’m about to.”
His words made the heat inside of me flare.
Without giving him a moment’s notice, I turned and ran up the stairs. I heard him curse behind me, and even though I was fast from gymnastics, I couldn’t keep ahead of his long gait.
All at once, he tackled me from behind, wrapping his arms around my middle. We went sprawling toward the steps. Before I could land face-first, he twisted, taking the brunt of the fall on his back and side, while holding me against his chest. He landed with a grunt, but playful fire burned in his stare, and it mirrored mine as I reached down and unsnapped his pants.
My hand immediately reached in and took hold of his hard cock. I rubbed my thumb over the head, collecting some precum, and then popped it into my mouth to suck it off.
“Fuck.” Rogue growled.
He turned us so that it was my back against the jutting angles of the steps, and he grabbed my pants and ripped them off my legs, flinging them over the railing. Completely bare now, I reached up with my other hand and clawed at his chest until skin and blood gathered beneath my nails. He hissed in pain, but I felt him harden against me even more.
“Bite me,” I ordered.
I wanted to give pain, and I wanted to feel it, too. I wanted my body to match the ache I felt inside.
Rogue didn’t hesitate. He brushed his mouth against the curve of my neck, and I felt his teeth come down on my sensitive skin. My pussy pulsed, making me whimper, and I felt his teeth release me before his hot tongue darted out to soothe the spot.
He dug into his pocket and pulled out another condom, ripping it open with his teeth, and it shouldn’t have been erotic but somehow was. I reached for his pants again and jerked them down his legs, my hands fumbling between stripping him bare and scratching his skin. I wanted to feel him. I wanted our hurt to consume us until all that was left was our pleasure.
Parting my thighs with a simple shove that I didn’t even bother to stop, Rogue’s hooded eyes assessed me as he started to put the new condom on. With the hard steps of the stairs biting into my shoulders, I watched his lips part as I reached up and helped roll it all the way down his shaft, and then I guided his length between my legs with raspy breaths.
“Do it,” I ordered while pushing up, bracing the head of his cock against my entrance as I moved my hands up to grab his shoulders.
And then, Rogue Kelly thrust inside of me.
I cried out, my head falling back against the stairs as he drove into me, taking my innocence and my sanity with his punishing jolt.
It hurt. God, it hurt.
I clawed my fingers against his back, my nails scraping against the swirls of ink on his skin. I wanted to mark him like he was marking me. I wanted to make him bleed, too.
I hated him. I wanted him. I resented him. I craved him.
And he knew it.
When a tear trickled down the corner of my eyes, Rogue leaned in and licked it from my face. Then he reached between us and brought his fingers to my clit, and I gasped at the contact. I’d never had someone else touch me there before. It was intimate, almost as intimate as what he was already doing to me.
With the intense way he watched me, the way his brown eyes grew darker as I wr
ithed beneath him, it made that twisted piece inside of me unfurl even more with fierce satisfaction.
My cries of pain turned to pleasure as my body opened up to him, accommodating his size and the speed of his thrusts. His fingers continued to toy with me, his cock never slowing down as he pushed into me over and over again, the sound of our breaths and harsh cries echoing around us.
I soon found myself wrapping my legs around his hips, pulling him closer instead of trying to push him away. But as good as he was making me feel, I didn’t want to let him take me to the peak. So just before I could get there, I tried to shove his hand away, but of course, he refused to budge.
“Don’t,” I warned him, my chest heaving.
His eyes glittered mercilessly. “You’re gonna come for me, Scar.”
“No,” I said, shaking my head from side to side. “I won’t.”
In reply, he leaned forward and bit my neck, sucking the skin between his teeth. I clenched my whole body, trying to hold back, my fingers and toes curling painfully. I didn’t want him to have the satisfaction of making me come. I wanted to keep that from him.
“I’m the first one to fuck this pussy, and I’m gonna be the first to make you come, too.”
I shook my head again, but it was only half-hearted. I was right there. Right on the cusp, my whole body shuddering, screaming for him to push me over the edge.
“Yes,” he growled, and then he thrust into me hard, just as he pressed into my clit, and I couldn’t hold back anymore.
I screamed out his name, seeing stars as my eyes rolled back in pleasure. I’d given myself orgasms before, but they’d been nothing like this. This, with Rogue deep inside of me and with his ruthless movements, this was something completely different. It was dark and delicious, and I shouldn’t have liked it at all. But I loved every second of it.
He smirked down at me arrogantly, and then I felt him come too, as his own orgasmic growl came hot against my ear.
“Fuck,” I whispered as he shuddered against my neck. The finality of it all made shame and sated bliss wash over me in conflicting waves.
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