9
Raelynn
Assuming I’m going to have the house to myself seeing as Ethan went off to his little party, I run myself a bath in the hope that it’ll do something about my tense muscles and spend the evening watching shit on TV.
It’s heading toward midnight when I switch it off and attempt to get some sleep. I’m lying in the dark with only the silent house for company when there’s a crash outside.
I sit up, straining to hear if there’s someone out there. It goes silent again before the unmistakable sound of the front door slamming rings out.
Fuck.
As I sit with my heart trying to beat out of my chest, I debate whether a burglar or Ethan returning would be more preferable. It comes to something when you’d rather face a criminal than your possible future stepbrother.
There’s a crash, and then another.
I swing my legs from my bed and search for a weapon in case I need it. My eyes land on the bunch of flowers in a vase that I assume Rachel thought I might like, and I walk over. I pull the flowers out and throw the water over the balcony before heading over to my door. As silently as I can, I slip out and make my way toward the noise.
I creep down the stairs, noting that none of the lights are on.
If this is a guy robbing the place, then I probably shouldn’t be heading his way with only a vase as a weapon.
Shaking the voice from my head, I continue down until I get to a doorway where I think the noise is coming from. There’s another almighty crash followed by an angry growl.
Pushing the door wider, I tiptoe inside, raising the vase above my head. The guy’s dressed all in black with a hood up over his head.
I’m just about to launch it at him when he turns. A familiar pair of blue eyes find mine a milli-second before my arms follow through with their intent.
Thankfully, Ethan is quicker and manages to stop the vase from connecting with his face, sending it crashing to the floor.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he roars, his voice slightly slurred, possibly explaining why he was down here fucking this room up in the dark.
His hands slam down on my shoulder and I stumble back, tripping over something in the process and finally colliding with the wall. My head slams back against it, making the room go a little hazy and my eyes pool with water.
When I eventually pull them open, he’s right in front of me, breathing down on me with his teeth bared.
“This is all your fault,” he seethes. His voice is so menacingly quiet it sends a shiver of terror through me. We’re alone in this huge house, he’s drunk, and I stupidly left my phone upstairs.
“Me?”
“Yes, you.” We’re toe to toe. Our faces only inches apart. I can smell the alcohol and weed on him. It makes my mouth water for a taste and a hit of my own instead of the water I’ve been drinking all night. “You are ruining everything. Everywhere I go, there you are. Everywhere I turn. There you fucking are. Even tonight. There you fucking were.”
“I-I haven’t been anywhere tonight,” I say, confused by his comment.
“You’re in fucking here,” he spits, poking his finger into his temple. “Fucking tormenting me. Driving me fucking crazy.”
I open my mouth to respond, but when I realize I’ve got no words I quickly close it again.
“You’re going to fuck everything up for me. I. Need. You. Gone.”
His hand lifts, his fingers taking my chin with a painful grip and forcing me to look up at him.
“You hear me, trash?” I swallow, not able to speak when he’s holding me so tight. “But you’re not going to fucking leave, are you?” His eyes are wild as he stares into mine. It’s a look I’ve experienced before, and I know nothing good can come of it. “So what am I going to do about it?”
I don’t know if he realizes he’s having a conversation with himself, but I don’t point it out. Instead I just hope that the little voice in his head will have some reason in a minute and let me go.
Thankfully, after a few seconds, he does. But not so I can run. Instead, his hands find the top of my tank and in one swift move the worn, thin fabric practically melts under his touch.
My hands fly up to cover my breasts, but I don’t get anywhere near before his fingers are around both of my wrists and they’re lifted above my head. My back arches and the fabric that was still half covering my tits falls to the side.
His eyes hold mine for a beat before they drop. A smile pulls at the corner of his lips.
“At least there is something worthwhile about you, I guess.”
“Ethan please, don’t,” I whimper, chastising myself for sounding weak and vulnerable when all I want to be is strong and in control of the situation. So what, he’s looking at my rack. I’m sure he’s seen plenty before.
My chest heaves as I try to get control of my racing heart and he eats it up. I’m playing right into the palm of his hands and giving him exactly what he wants. My fear.
“I wonder how you taste.” He lowers down and looks from one nipple to the other, then up at me through his lashes.
Fuck, I hate to admit it, but with desire swimming in his eyes, I can’t help but want him to lean forward and find out. My nipples harden as my core floods. I hate myself even more for the reaction, but I can’t help it.
Here, in the dark with him almost hidden in the shadows and looking sexy and as dangerous as hell, I can’t help my imagination running away with me, even though at the same time, I’m desperate for him to release me so I can go running back to my room.
He closes the space between us. His tongue sneaks out and flicks my tight bud. My entire body flinches with the contact and sparks shoot toward my clit, making it ache.
“Ethan.” I intend for it to be a warning, but even I can admit that it comes out sounding needy as fuck.
I barely have time to blink and he’s leaning forward once more, only this time he sucks me into his hot mouth, his tongue circling around me, making me crave more. My hands pull against my restraint, but he doesn’t let up. He switches to the other side and I cry out despite fighting like hell to keep it in.
What the fuck is he playing at? Is this how he intends to ruin me? With pleasure?
His hands shift but only so he can free one of his own. He continues pinning both of mine above my head, ensuring he has full access to my breasts which he continues torturing.
My panties are soaked with my need for more, and the more he sucks, nips and licks, the worse the situation gets.
“Fuck. Ethan. Fuck, please?” I’m not aware of the words as they fall from my mouth, but the second I realize I’m begging for more, color stains my cheeks.
I shouldn’t want anything from this asshole, yet here I am after one touch from him, sounding like a desperate whore.
“You want more, sweet cheeks?”
“Ethan,” I cry when he bites down on my nipple.
“How close do you think I can get you to the edge? I’m going to watch you climb, make you think your release is in touching distance, and then I’m going to ruin it all just like you have my fucking life. Is that what you want?” His words blur, the blood rushing past my ears and the desire coursing through me meaning I make no sense of them.
“Yes,” I pant. “Yes.”
His free hand brushes the sensitive skin of my stomach before it disappears inside my sleep shorts, his fingers parting me and finding my clit almost instantly.
“Fucking hell, I knew you wanted me,” he groans as if he’s in pain when he discovers just how wet I am.
“Oh god,” I moan as he pinches my clit between his fingers before diving deeper and finding my entrance.
“Oh no, baby. I’m not God, I’m the motherfucking Devil.”
Ain’t that the truth. A bitter laugh falls from my lips as he pushes two fingers inside me.
“Jesus,” he grunts, and I can only assume that’s a good thing.
With his thumb pushed against my clit and his fingers bent ins
ide me, I’m racing toward a mind-blowing release in seconds.
He pulls back from my breast and watches me. I want to tell him to look away, but I don’t have it in me as I fall headfirst into—nothing. Wait, what?
I drag my eyelids open, not knowing when they even shut to find Ethan backing away from me. My arms drop to my sides, my muscles aching where they’d been pinned in position for so long.
Ethan’s amused yet hungry eyes hold mine as he lifts his hand and sucks his fingers into his mouth. My imminent release makes itself known once again, my muscles pulling tight as I watch his eyes roll back in pleasure.
“I’ve tasted sweeter.” His eyes drop from mine to take me in, only this time I’m able to cover myself.
“I fucking hate you,” I spit, but his only response is a wicked smile that plays on his lips.
I watch as he steps over the mess of the shattered vase along with whatever it was that he sent crashing to the ground before I walked in on him.
“Clean up the mess you made, won’t you?” he says, repeating our words from earlier before he disappears from my sight.
The sound of his footsteps pounding up the stairs fills my ears as I slide down the wall until my ass hits the floor.
My body shudders with the coldness he left behind now that all the adrenaline has left my body. My core throbs with my need for a release, and my body trembles with the knowledge of what I just let him do to me.
I shouldn’t have allowed it to get that far. I shouldn’t have allowed him to take that much from me.
I’m unable to keep the tears that burn my eyes in and I sob on the floor of his den until my eyes sting and my ass goes beyond numb.
10
Ethan
I slam my bedroom door with such force that I’m surprised it isn’t falling from its hinges when I look back over my shoulder.
I pull my hoodie and t-shirt over my head in one fell swoop and quickly add my pants and boxers to the pile as I storm toward my shower. My rock-hard cock bobs in front of me, taunting me, reminding me what I just left behind downstairs. It’s the exact reaction I should have had to Shelly, but the one that didn’t appear until I turned around and found her wielding a fucking glass vase and about to smash it over my head. I guess I can’t really blame her, I was walking around in the dark smashing shit up.
After marching from Zayn’s, I stopped in a store who believe my fake ID and always serve me whatever the fuck I want, and got myself a bottle of whiskey. I spent the whole walk home drinking the fucking thing. By the time I got back here, my head was spinning and I was angry beyond belief with both myself and the way my life is right now. The last thing I needed was her, but there she was, and before I knew what the fuck I was doing, I had her backed up against the wall with her perfect fucking tits in my face.
I shouldn’t have touched her, I know that. I knew that. Even with the whiskey racing through my system. But I couldn’t help myself. The fear in her eyes called to me. Her rosebud fucking nipples called out to me. I should have walked away like I did from Shelly. But unlike with Shelly, my cock was fucking rock-hard and the only thing I could think about was how fucking sweet she’d taste. And fuck if she wasn’t even sweeter than I could have possibly imagined.
My mouth waters, the taste of her still on my tongue. I picture what it might be like to have my head between her thighs and get the sweetness straight from the source. My cock aches with the thought, but as I step under the shower, I refuse to do anything about it. I tell myself it’s punishment for being so weak tonight. My only saving grace is that she’s just about as blue balled as me right now, seeing as I left her right on the brink of orgasm like the total fucking asshole I am.
I stand with my face tipped up toward the showerhead and allow it to rain down over me. It does little to cool the fire raging in my body even when I turn it to ice cold.
My cock’s still rock hard when I step out and wrap a towel around my waist. As I walk through my bedroom, I kick my pants out of the way. The top of my foot connects with the corner of my cell, and I curse in pain. But it gives me an idea.
Pulling it from my pocket, I find our conversation.
Don’t even think about finishing yourself off. You’re mine now.
I expect her to reply, telling me where to go almost instantly, but the message doesn’t even show as read. In the end, I get fed up waiting, and, with the amount of whiskey I’d consumed, I pass out naked on my bed.
* * *
When I wake the next morning, it’s with a pounding head, my body soaked in sweat, and my heart racing from the dream I was in the middle of. A dream I need to forget about as soon as humanly possible. I don’t need any more crazy ideas in my head about what could have happened last night had I not walked away when I did. I shouldn’t have touched her. I knew before I even laid a finger on her that she was out of bounds, but I couldn’t help myself.
“Motherfucker,” I curse into my pillow, replaying the events of the previous night in my head. What was wrong with Shelly? She’d have scratched my itch perfectly fine. Why couldn’t I have just used her like I usually do and stayed the night at Zayn’s passed out on his couch?
The doorbell ringing through the house eventually drags my ass out of bed. I wait long enough in case she decides to go and answer it, but when I hear no movement, I’m forced to go myself.
I stare at her door as I pass, wishing I could see inside to know if she’s in there and hiding from me or if she’s run. The sensible thing to do would most definitely be the latter.
Pulling the front door open, I find a guy standing there with my alcohol delivery for tonight’s celebratory party. We won the fucking division. I should be pumped right now. Our first playoff game is next Friday night. That trophy we’ve all coveted for so long is almost in touching distance, yet I can’t seem to rid myself of the anger, the hate that seems to have taken over every inch of my body.
I point the delivery guy in the direction of the kitchen and walk down the hallway to the doors that lead to the garden while he does his thing.
At first glance, it’s empty, but after a few seconds, I realize that the ripples in the water aren’t that of an empty pool. Standing back behind the curtains so I’m out of sight. I watch as she makes her way across from one side to the other. It’s not the first time I’ve watched her. I couldn’t help myself when I got back on Thursday afternoon. Wanting to see what she was hiding under her clothes had me loitering in the bush like a fucking creep. It was fucking worth it, mind you.
With the guy unloading bottles behind me, I continue to stare, willing her to climb out so I can get another look at her banging little body. Not five minutes later do I get my wish, only it’s better than I could have imagined. My lingering hangover immediately vanishes as other aches and desires erupt in my body. This time, she’s not wearing her underwear, but a white tank that’s gone totally see-through and a tiny pair of panties. My cock’s instantly hard for her once again. The sight before me mixes with my memories from last night of her pleading with me to let her go.
Rubbing myself through the soft fabric of my sweatpants, an idea forms.
“See yourself out when you’re done, man,” I call to the guy in the kitchen before running up the stairs and pushing her bedroom door open.
I still the second I’m inside, because unlike last time, this room now smells of her. I jump onto her bed and look at the stack of books sitting on her nightstand. Each spine has a different year written on it. I go for one in the middle and pull it out. Resting back against her pillows, I flip it open to a random page and stare down at her writing. It’s more feminine that I’d have imagined, and I can’t help but smile when I turn the page again and find it written in pink. She really is a mysterious one, my new housemate.
Dear Diary,
Today’s been great. Kurt took me out to buy some new clothes. I got the jeans I’ve wanted forever and the sneakers Mom said we couldn’t afford.
I don’t get a chance to read an
y more, because the sound of her footsteps out in the hall has me looking toward the door.
Seconds later, she’s pushing it open. She doesn’t spot me right away as she throws the towel in her hand into the corner of the room and peels her soaking wet tank up her body. She reveals her smooth skin and tiny waist. Her hair, as always, is tied up. She reaches up and pulls the band that’s holding it hostage. It falls down her back like a wet curtain.
Unable to take the ache in my solid length as it presses against the fabric, I reach down in the hope of relieving it, but as I do, I must make more noise than I was expecting because she turns.
Our eyes lock and she screams in fright before bringing her hands up to cover her chest.
“Get the fuck out of my room, Ethan.” She glances down at what’s in my hands, and more fear than I’ve witnessed from her before creeps into her eyes.
“That’s not a very nice way to welcome a guest.”
“You’re not a fucking guest. You’re not welcome in here.”
“My house. I do what I like.”
“Get. Out.”
“Not until I get what I came in here for.”
“And what’s that exactly?”
I pause, because other than to torment her a little more, I didn’t really come in here for anything specific. I run my eyes down her body that’s now starting to shiver from the morning breeze coming from the window.
“Strip,” I order.
“W- what?” An unamused laugh falls from her lips as her eyes widen in shock.
“What? It’s not like you’re really wearing much anyway. It won’t make all that much difference.”
SAVAGE: Rosewood High #3 Page 7