by Nicole Fox
What the fuck is happening?
I don’t want her like this. She is a poor, fucked-up girl in a glittery dress. That doesn’t make her my equal. It doesn’t make her an option.
I need to remember why I’m doing all of this in the first place.
But then Lily’s lips part, letting me in, and I slide my tongue into her mouth, twirling it with hers while trying to ignore the shock of desire that moves through me now that I can finally taste her.
I want to know what she tastes like everywhere.
When the pill lands on her tongue, she stiffens. She tries to pull away, but I hold her more firmly against me and seal her mouth with mine. I kiss her until she relaxes, until her hands slide from my shoulders to my chest, and her legs widen, letting me in closer.
“Take it,” I whisper against her mouth. When I open my eyes, there is a worried line between her brows, and she lifts a hand to pull the pill from her mouth. I grab her fingers and press them to my lips. “Relax. I’ll take care of you.”
Lily’s chest is heaving, and I barely resist looking down. Soon enough, I’ll know what she looks like without the dress on. I’ll see her and taste her and satisfy whatever fucked-up desire is growing and multiplying inside of me.
Then, I’ll be able to focus on what’s really important.
“What is it?” she whispers.
“That ecstasy was your dare!” Cora shouts from across the table.
I grind my teeth together and look over my shoulder at her. “You told me to take it, so I did. From that point on, it was mine to do with what I wanted. I wanted to give it to Lily, with my tongue.”
A chorus of ooohs rise from the group, and Viktor is satisfied enough by my dismissal of his ex-girlfriend that he finally goes back to dry humping the girl on his lap.
“Ecstasy?” I turn back and Lily’s mouth is open. I can see the pill on her tongue. Her voice is muffled when she speaks. “I’ve never taken ecstasy.”
I smooth a thumb over her cheekbone, smearing some of the glitter Cora must have brushed there, and smile. “Then let this be your first. Let me be your first.”
I bite it in half, swallow one part of the pill, and offer her the other half. She takes it and nods hesitantly. “Okay. Just… take care of me, okay?” Then she swallows the half pill.
I nod. I don’t say what I’m thinking.
Oh, I’ll take care of you, innocent little Lily.
Just not quite in the way you have in mind.
8
Finn
Thirty minutes later, it’s time to make my move.
“Let’s get out of here.” I brush my lips over Lily’s ear. I love the way she shivers, clutches at my shirt.
I can still enjoy it even if it isn’t real. Even if everything is just pretend. What’s the point in being bad if you can’t have a little fun, right?
“But your friends…” She gestures loosely around the group, and I don’t give a single fuck about anyone in the circle.
Viktor already left with the girl he was making out with before. He is probably deep inside her upstairs somewhere already.
“…are boring,” I finish. I shrug and then curl my arm around her waist, gripping her hip through the silky fabric of her dress. “You are much more interesting.”
Her lips are pouty and pink. I can’t help but imagine all of the things those lips are going to do. I lean forward and kiss her softly, gently.
She parts for me so easily. She gives of herself so freely.
I wonder what it must be like to be that trusting, to be that innocent and vulnerable.
Has she even done this before?
I can’t explain why, but the idea that this could be her first time makes me feel … not guilt, exactly, but regret.
Regret that all this has to be done. That there is no other choice.
I’ll do it, and I’ll enjoy the fuck out of it. But that doesn’t mean I don’t wish things could be different.
“Okay,” she breathes when we break apart. Lily stands up on shaky legs and then reaches back to grab my hand. I let her lead me out of the group and up the stairs.
Her muscles shift and flex, and I like that she is strong. Fit. That she knows how to push her body to the limit. I plan to see exactly how far she is willing to go in just a few minutes.
I’m staring at the sway of her ass beneath her dress, so I don’t notice the person step in to block our path.
Lily slams to a stop, and I bump into her back, wrapping an arm around her chest to steady her and myself. She grabs my arm with her hand, and I don’t mind it at all.
Being the protector. The person she trusts with her safety.
She shouldn’t trust me, and she’ll learn why soon enough, but it feels good right now.
“Where are you going?”
I look up to see the male voice belongs to Dallas fucking Martin. He has on his ridiculous Hell Princes leather jacket, and he is standing in front of Lily with his arms crossed over his chest and his legs spread. He looks like the world’s weakest bouncer.
“Dallas?” Lily leans back against my chest so she can look up at him. “What—”
“Where are you taking her?” Dallas asks, redirecting his question to me.
I tighten my hold on Lily and tuck her head against my collarbone, my cheek brushing against her temple.
“To fucking Disney World.”
Lily giggles. I turn and kiss her cheekbone without even thinking about it.
“She doesn’t want a dumb fuck like you,” he sasses. “Besides, she’s drunk.” Dallas studies Lily and then grimaces. “And clearly on something. What did you give her?”
“He didn’t give me anything. I took something,” Lily says, trying to defend me, though her words slur in the attempt.
Dallas leans down to look in her eyes. His own are bloodshot, but when aren’t they? Dallas is almost constantly fucked up.
“You need to go anywhere else but here, baby girl,” he rasps.
I don’t appreciate his tone. Like he thinks he has a right to talk to her that way.
Wrong. Very fucking wrong.
Lily opens her mouth to answer, but I pull her back and shift my body in front of hers. “She doesn’t need to go anywhere, Hell Princess. She is happy being with me. If you didn’t notice, she was the one leading the way.”
Dallas steps forward until we are toe to toe, but I don’t back down. All of the Hell Princes are the same. They’re tough when they’re in a group, but they don’t fight by themselves.
“The problem is that she doesn’t know you like I do. She doesn’t know what you’re capable of.”
Lily tilts her head back to look at me, and I roll my eyes. “You act like I’m a criminal, Dallas. We’re just going upstairs. You were the one trying to assault me out on the porch.”
My fists clench at Lily’s accusations. This motherfucker tried to do what? He touched her?
Big fucking mistake.
“Lily, don’t go with him.” Dallas grabs Lily’s hand and yanks it towards him, trying to pull her out of my arms.
“Dallas, no.” She pulls back, but even fully sober, she’s no match for Dallas.
Before I can think much about it, I shove Lily away from me, draw my fist back, and let it fly.
Dallas’ jaw jerks to one side as my punch lands. He lets go of Lily’s hand to try and protect himself, but it’s too late. Solid contact.
He spits blood on the stairs and looks up at me with hate in his eyes.
“Go upstairs, Lily,” I order without looking at her. “Third door on the left. I’ll be there in just a second.”
She hesitates for only a moment before nodding and running away.
Then it’s just me and Dallas. He’s standing a step below me, fists clenched at his side and a trail of blood running from one nostril.
When I hear my bedroom door open and shut, I turn back to face him.
“You shouldn’t have touched her, Dallas.”
He wipes the blo
od with the back of his hand. “Don’t tell me what to do, motherfucker.”
“She’s mine.”
He laughs scornfully. “Contrary to popular belief, not everything in this town belongs to the Fosters.”
Then he shifts his weight, and I see what he was planning the whole time. If I wasn’t buzzing with half an ecstasy and six shots of whiskey, I would’ve seen it sooner.
As it is, I barely have enough time to react. I duck down just as Dallas’s knife flashes where my face was only a moment before.
That bastard tried to slice me open.
He didn’t expect me to dodge though. And he’s drunk. Added up, that means he’s got more momentum going than he accounted for.
And that means his balance tips. Way too far.
He falls backwards. It’s like it happens in slow motion. There’s just enough light to see the surprise on his face as he realizes what’s happening.
Even if I wanted to intervene, I couldn’t. There’s not enough time.
There’s just the sickening crunch as his skull cracks against the edge of a hardwood step.
His body folds up as he slides the rest of the way down the stairs and he ends up in a groaning puddle at the bottom.
I spit down after him. “Good fucking riddance,” I snarl.
Then I turn and go back upstairs to finish what I started with Lily.
9
Lily
Finn’s bedroom is absurd.
Black leather chairs, a deep blue comforter on a solid wood bed frame, and a giant TV mounted on the wall make up the bulk of the décor. I’m sure every game console in existence is shut away in the cabinet beneath the TV.
But otherwise, the room is sparse. It doesn’t look like any teenage boy’s room I’ve ever seen. No clothes piled on the floor or empty cups or food wrappers lying around. There doesn’t even seem to be anything very personal around. No photographs or medals or souvenirs. It’s cold, impersonal.
The click of the doorknob brings me back to my senses.
When I look back at the door, Finn is leaning against it, his hands folded behind his back. His dark hair falls over his forehead, and for the hundredth time tonight, I can’t believe he is here with me. That I’m here with him.
I spoke to him for the first time earlier today, and now I’m in his house. In his bedroom.
He steps forward, closing the distance between us. His smell fills my nostrils. Arctic and masculine and intoxicating all at once—not that I needed anything else to make my thoughts swirl.
He curls his finger under my chin and lifts my face to his. I’m so grateful for his carved cheekbones and square jaw. I’m grateful to the symmetrical, perfect lines of his face for wiping my mind clean. For letting me focus on this moment.
My skin tingles under his touch, and I shift forward slightly, nuzzling my face into his hand.
“What’s on your mind?”
“You.” It’s an honest answer. Finn is on my mind right now. When my eyes are on him, nothing else matters.
He grabs my hand and pulls me to my feet until we are standing chest to chest. “Good.”
“What about you?” My heart is thundering against my rib cage, so hard I’m sure Finn can feel it.
Finn answers by leaning forward and brushing his lips against mine. It’s a whisper of a touch, there and gone in a second. He starts to pull away, and I quickly wrap my hand around his neck and pull him back.
I haven’t done this many times before, and never with anyone who actually knew what they were doing. My first kiss was with my best friend in eighth grade, Amanda. Neither of us were into girls, but we wanted to know what we were doing when the right guy came along. As it turned out, Amanda was my best kiss for years, even with her braces in.
Until now.
Finn smells like an icy morning, like the clean scent of a fresh freeze. But he is hot everywhere. His skin scorches under my fingers, and I drag my hand down his chest, feeling the hard lines of his body.
I’m not this forward. I’m not the girl who makes moves and demands what I want. But I am right now.
I grab the hem of Finn’s shirt and pull it up, smoothing my palms over his stomach and chest as I go. Suddenly, I feel something at the back of my knees, and I yelp as I fall back onto Finn’s bed. When I land on the mattress, I burst into giggles and grab handfuls of the soft comforter, grounding myself.
Then, Finn’s leg is between my thighs, and there is no such thing as the ground. I’m floating.
“Do you want a drink?” he asks, his voice deep and rumbly as he crawls over my body.
I shake my head. I’ve had too much already. More than I’m used to. My head is heavy and my joints feel loose. There are stars in my vision and colors swirl around like a kaleidoscope.
My stomach flips as Finn’s hand slides over my breast.
I’ve never worn so few clothes before, but suddenly, the skimpy dress Cora lent me feels like a titanium suit. I need it off. I have a stupid taped-on bra that Cora lent me, and usually I’d be nervous about how to take it off in a sexy way or what Finn would think about it, but now I just want it gone. Now.
His hand slips lower, sliding over my stomach and my hip before his fingers curl under the hem of the dress. My entire body is shaking. Every brush of his skin on mine feels like an electric jolt and heat is pooling in my center.
“Do you want this?” When I look up, Finn’s blue eyes are pinning me in place. They are wide and deep and a perfect sky blue with deep dark wells in the center. His pupils are blown wide with lust, and I still can’t believe it is all for me.
I feel the air on my legs as the dress moves up higher, but his fingers are moving achingly slowly across my thigh towards my center, waiting for me to answer.
A hummingbird is trapped in my chest, battering itself against the walls of my body to get out, and I feel like any second I’m going to blink and wake up in a pool of sweat. Like this is all going to be some taunting, sexy dream and it can’t possibly be real.
But then, Finn leans forward and kisses me, his lips soft and warm and gentle, and I realize I’m in a literal dream.
Whatever happened earlier today, it can’t touch this. It can’t touch how good this feels. How good this will be.
“Yes,” I breathe, scraping my nails over his bare skin. “Yes, please. Now.”
I’m needy and desperate and so unlike myself, but I like who I am. Right now. With Finn.
Suddenly, his mouth crushes down on mine and his fingers slide over the cotton fabric of my panties. Cora wanted me to wear something else, something lacier, but I draw the line at borrowing underwear. It doesn’t matter anyway. Finn doesn’t seem to mind.
I arch my hips up to meet his touch, but just as I lift off the bed, his hand presses down on my hip.
“Don’t move,” he whispers against my mouth.
I lie still as Finn straddles my body, his knees on either side of my hips. I can see his excitement bulging against the zipper of his pants, and I reach for his waistband instinctively, eager to see him.
Before I can, Finn grabs my wrist and jerks it over my head, pinning it to the mattress. My instincts are so sluggish from the drugs and alcohol that I don’t yelp in surprise until he grabs my other hand and pins it over my head, too.
He leans down until his eyes are even with mine, the tips of our noses touching. “Keep them there.”
I frown, desperate to touch him, to feel him. “But—”
“Move, and I’ll stop.” As he speaks, he drags his fingers over my opening again, drawing a deep moan from my lungs. Then, he slips his hand beneath the waistband of my panties. “Do you want me to stop?”
I almost shake my head, but then I’m not sure if that counts as moving. So instead, I remain perfectly still.
Finn cups my cheek in his hand and winks. “Good girl.”
Time feels like nothing. Seconds stretch to hours. Days could be passing outside, and I would have no idea. Because all I can think about is the feeli
ng of Finn’s palm against my warm center. The only thing that matters in my world is the way it feels when his fingers part me and slide inside, the way my entire body reacts when he curls a finger into me, stroking.
“Finn,” I gasp, straining my entire body to lie still. It takes effort because I want to roll myself onto his hand. I want to grind against him and soothe all of the parts of me that are aching, but I can’t. He won’t let me.
He slides in another finger and a third, and I feel like I’m caught in a current but unable to swim. Like the surface is just out of reach. I can see light coming through the water, if only I could kick, I’d reach it. But I don’t so I can’t. Instead, I drown.
“You’re mine now, Lily DeVry.” His voice is soft and deep, a rumble in the very core of me, shaking my foundations. “You’re all mine.”
“Finn.” I squeeze my eyes closed as his thumb sweeps up to circle my center.
He pulses into me harder, faster, and it feels like I’m being wound up. Like I’m being pulled from both ends, stretched until I’ll break.
“Have you ever done this before?” he asks, his breath ragged.
This? No, never. Boys have touched me, but it has never once felt like this.
Is it the drugs? Is that why this feels so good? Or does Finn just know what he is doing?
I mean, of course he knows what he’s doing. How many girls has he done this with? How many people has he made feel this way?
I want to think I’m special, but of course I’m not. He is special. I’m just lucky.
“Lily, have you done this before?” he asks again.
I shake my head. “No.”
“Does it feel good?”
I nod.
“Answer me.” He works his fingers into me in a steady rhythm that stops just short of being uncomfortable. It is good, but almost too good. It makes me feel like nobody should be able to hold this much pleasure.
I arch my back slightly, trying to gain control of the new sensations I’m feeling. “Yes.”