Cruel Kisses: It’s Just High School #2

by Mpofu, Thandiwe

  “Fuck, you’re on about the fucking marriage shit?”

  “Yes!”

  “Little Minx, it means nothing! What the fuck do I do to prove it? How do I make you fucking secure in this?”

  Whoa. There, right there. That’s my problem here. I don’t feel secure so I’m lashing out and making bad decisions and yes, acting like a child.

  “Nathan did something to me!” I blurt out, the words tumbling out of me like a torrent of water.

  “Mia…” he starts, but I hold up a hand.

  “I have no idea what he did. I have no idea when it happened, I still think that Nicky might have lied to me, but there you go.”

  We stare at each other, then he sighs, looking at me.

  “Courtney physically hurt Aiden when I was a baby,” he says, his voice an angry seethe that stops my heart. Appalled, I bring a hand to my chest and one to over my open mouth. “I have no idea when she started that or what she did to him but as I grew up, I noticed the scars on his arms, on his legs, his back. I just didn’t know what to make of them or who to ask.”

  “Oh God.”

  “She hurts him to get at my father,” he says, looking into my eyes with an unreadable expression. “All because he was in love with Nancy.”

  Jesus.

  The depth of how all this is fucked up is crazy.

  “The night I left, I saw my father stroke Nicky.”

  Julian doesn’t waver, doesn’t blink. He’s not even surprised.

  “He’s a fucking coward and I won’t let him find you to hurt or threaten you.”

  There, right there. I know I should be moved by the way he just said that, maybe I should appreciate that he cares—and God does he care. I can see the seriousness on his face, but in this moment all I hear is what he just said.

  “How do you know that my father is trying to find me?” I croak, my heart beating so hard against my chest.

  “What?” he questions with a frown.

  “You just said you won’t let him find me,” I say. “How did you know?”

  He’s silent for a while and I watch as his Adam’s Apple bobs up and down as he swallows.

  “What aren’t you telling me, Julian?” I whisper, but he just stares, his jaw locked, refusing to say a word.

  “Please don’t… don’t keep things from me,” I mutter, and he groans, scrubbing a hand down his gorgeous face.

  “I’m not keeping anything from you. Nathan was at the house almost every day after you were gone, threatening that he knew we did something to you.”

  Shit.

  “And Nicky?” I question. “Where is she?”

  “Your womb-donor of a mother is still at the mansion, though her terms of stay are unknown. I have no idea why she’s still there, it’s not like John ever loved her.”

  I stare at him, not knowing what to say.

  Just then, his phone starts ringing and he fishes it out and stares at the caller ID and lets out a soft curse.

  “In as much as I bought you up here to fuck the thoughts of my brother out of you, I can’t stay. I have to answer this,” he says, staring at me like I’m a stranger all over again. “Stay away from my brother and don’t you fucking touch your life.”

  “Excuse me?” I reel back, eyes wide with shock.

  He points at my arms, his eyes narrowed.

  “I swear to God, Little Minx, if you lay a finger on your life or you draw a single drop of blood from any part of you as an act of self-harm, I won’t be pleased.”

  Before he turns around to answer his phone, I see it again, the disgust that flips my stomach and I know. Things will never be the same between us.

  He’s never going to want me anymore because now, now I remind him of some bitch who killed herself in front of him.

  Jesus, the comparison alone is daunting and mean. And so disheartening.

  So, when he turns around and answers the call, I make my exit. It’s not running away I tell myself as I get in a taxi and head back to Rye’s house, it’s just preserving what’s left of me.

  22

  “I made you come three times in ten minutes, and you can’t text me back?” I say when I find her later that night.

  It’s close to four am and she’s in the studio of her friend’s flat, dancing.

  “Hmm,” she hums, a cold, secretive smile on her face. I don’t know how she does it; make it seem like she doesn’t care when I know her heart is fucking pounding just because I’m close to her. “Maybe it’s because I’m a bitch.”

  She flips her hair over her delicate shoulders, the space between her neck and right shoulder now marked by my teeth. As I recall, she loved the hell out of that pain-pleasure, making her hips move faster with the need to let go of the shit that goes on in her head.

  “But then again, I am a bitch that didn’t change. Maybe the phone you’ve been texting is somewhere in some dump in LA. Or maybe I don’t want to fucking talk to you. I don’t know, really.”

  Ah, so this is what’s going on? Her little feelings got hurt, and now she’s serving up the silent treatment and ditching me in airports like I’m a fucking fool?

  I step closer to her, enjoying it when her tiny body, wearing the hell out of her leotard, tenses up. Tension radiates from her every pore, but her face in the mirror ahead still wears a neutral expression—her armor that she thinks no one notices. I do and I know that’s not what she’s feeling.

  I press up against her back, bringing the hard ridge of my hard on that’s pressing against the seam of my jeans up against her firm ass.

  Watching as her pupils dilate through the large mirrors, I lean in and whisper in her ear, making sure not to touch any other part of her body other than where we’re connected now.

  If I do, it’ll be game over.

  “You’re a dirty little thing, I know that,” I whisper as her body shudders in front of me. “But the silent treatment? What are you, eight years old?”

  “I don’t want to talk to you,” she grits out, her nose flaring. “And I don’t want you near me.”

  “Really?” I whisper in her ear, then I press feather light kisses on the shell of her ear right before I pretend to nibble on her lobe, making her gasp. “So, why’s your breathing shallow?”

  I said I wouldn’t touch her but to hell with that shit.

  I wrap one arm around her waist—you can’t trust her with her fucked up mind not to fight this or worse, try to run away. Then with the other hand, I rip her fucking leotard at her thigh, and she moans. I haven’t even touched her and already she’s wet.

  “Why can I smell your arousal?” I question, wanting in her right now. “You want more of me, don’t you, Little Minx?”

  She doesn’t respond but a look of brazen lust transforms her face into a breathtaking mural that I want painted to hang on the ceiling over my bed, just so I can fucking come while looking at her because since she moved in, she’s been the only one that makes me feel…somewhat alive.

  “If I touch you there, tell me, Little Minx, what will I find?” I grit out the words in her ear, then lick the shell, loving the way she jumps in my arms like I just electrocuted her and that goes straight to my dick.

  She groans low in her chest, her ass now involuntarily rubbing up and down on my dick. She wants this, she wants me to fuck her in the middle of her large studio.

  “Nothing,” she whispers, her voice now thick and breathless. “Your touch is so repulsive, I’m dry as a desert.”

  “Liar,” I growl.

  I hate it when she fights this. I hate it even more when she holds my gaze like she’s doing now and lies.

  Pushing her panties away and whatever the hell else that’s in my way, her slickness greets me as her pussy clenches at my touch. She gasps, making me grin. Yeah baby, just like that.

  She’s not just horny, she’s desperate.

  “Did the meaning of dry change in the past few hours?” Because if it did, then her definition of dry is now flooded, panties ruined, and her puss
y ready to be filled to the brim with me.

  “Please,” she finally begs when my fingers skim right over her pussy lips, her juices making the glide so damn sensual, I know it won’t take much from me to make her come.

  “Please what, Mia?” My jaw tenses up, as she increases the friction between her ass and my dick. “Please make me come because I’m a tight bitch? Or please leave me alone?”

  I want her to admit it. I want her to look me in the eye and admit it—to herself—that she fucking wants this and that she wants me.

  “Julian…” she moans my name like she’s already coming, then in a second, her right hand in over mine in between her legs as if to stop me. “Don’t toy with me.”

  But instead of stopping me, she starts guiding my hand, wanting me to finger and touch her.

  “Trying to teach me how to touch you?”

  “Who said I can’t be taught new tricks?”

  “Making you come until your eyes roll to the back of your head, with you saying ‘fuck me’ with a moan in my ear like you did in my fucking bed last night, isn’t a trick.”

  The coloring of her cheeks in the mirror says otherwise.

  “Did I scandalize you, baby?” I whisper. She looks away and suddenly I get it. The way she can’t hold my gaze. The way she’s got her hand over mine down there. “Little Minx, your secrets never seem to end do they?”

  She quickly withdraws her hand, but I grab it with my wet fingers, then bring it right back.

  “If you want to learn how to pleasure yourself, you don’t need to be shy about it, Mia, let alone feel like you don’t have a right to it.”

  “Julian, that’s not…” she starts, but as soon as she sees the look in my eyes, she looks away, her body tense. “I know it must be silly, it’s just that I’ve never done that… with everything that’s been going on in my life, I don’t…”

  To shut her up, I bring her fingers to align with mine, then with both our forefingers, I direct us to skim her slick pussy lips. She gasps, looking down.

  “Look at me,” I demand. Her head shoots up and our gaze connects in the mirror. “Now, relax and let yourself feel this. Be the master of your own body, your own feelings and sensuality.”

  In as much as I just wanted a quick hard fuck against the wall, this right here has to be the hottest thing that has ever happened to me.

  I feel her body relax in my arms, then I direct her middle and forefinger to part her lips and starts massaging her clit and God, is she wet.

  “Oh God,” she gasps.

  “Julian, baby. It’s just Julian.”

  Not wanting to hear her quirky retort right now, I make sure to apply pressure to her fingers, making her pinch her clit and she jumps, but I hold her tight so she doesn’t fight it.

  “Don’t you dare look away, no matter the storm you’re brewing.” Because this is for her, this is her show.

  She’s brave enough not to look away, her eyes holding mine captive like she’s daring me to take her over the edge.

  Making sure to keep her on the very edge, I direct her to pinch her clit again and this time, she moans so loud, letting go of all her inhibitions, but I don’t want her to come like that.

  There’s something else I want her to try but I want her to realize that I’m the only one who will ever do it for her, not her fucking fingers, or anyone else’s for that matter.

  So, sliding our fingers down her slit, I direct her fingers, then sink both our forefingers into her slick, hot wet pussy.

  Immediately, she clenches down so tight I groan, she moans. I’m at the point of pain at this point but this isn’t about me.

  “So fucking greedy, huh?” I whisper and she moans. “Baby you can be greedy, but just let me have you.”

  “Fuck. Julian.”

  “Let me have this pussy,” I groan.

  Let me have all of you…

  Slowly I direct her to finger herself. With each stroke, her body moves up and down, her ass rubbing my dick over my jeans. I know I need to step back or else I’ll make a mess out of myself and honestly, if I’m coming, it’s going to be inside her.

  “Oh shit.” Her eyes glazed over, she rests the back of her head on my shoulder then wraps her other around my neck, resting her full weight on me. “Fuck.”

  There’s something enthralling about the way she whispers that, her voice echoing in the studio. I increase the tempo then slowly leave her to finger herself. But the moment I do that, she tenses up.

  “Julian, please.”

  Her reluctance for me to leave makes my chest ache.

  “It’s okay, you’re fucking incredible.” I withdraw my fingers fully, making her eyes widen with panic.

  “But…” she starts protesting but I cut her off, keeping that authoritative bite in my voice for good measure.

  “No buts,” I growl in her ear, loving the way she jumps in my arms. “Just make those pretty little fingers dance for me, Little Minx.”

  I start planting kisses on every inch of her I can reach. Her hair, her delicate, exposed neck, her earlobes, I press wet kisses that make her moan, then I hold her gaze in the mirror.

  Slowly, tentatively, like a Sunday school, choir-loving angel, she starts fingering herself.

  “Add another finger.” I watch her through the mirror as she follows my instruction. “Add another one. It’ll make you feel full.”

  Not as full as I know she craves.

  “Julian,” she moans, as tremors and quakes start taking over her body.

  “Go faster and deeper.” I watch her transform into a vixen in front of my eyes, watch her work herself, her body almost spasming out of control.

  “Oh God, I think I’m going to…”

  “Come.”

  Her body grows tense as her eyes roll to the back of her head, a low, throaty moan on her tongue as she comes like a pro. I wait for her to compose herself.

  “Now lick those fingers,” I growl so low in my chest and watch amused as her cheeks tinge red. She wasn’t expecting that at all.

  “What…”

  “Now, Mia.”

  With a bit of hesitation, she brings her fingers to her lips, then like a temptress, she holds my gaze, opens her utterly kissable and fuckable mouth, and starts sucking her fingers.

  I ALMOST COME RIGHT THEN AND THERE.

  “Shit.”

  “Am I doing it right?” I don’t say a word, just stare at her. She fucking knows what she’s doing. “Wanna taste?”

  She doesn’t wait for me to respond. She brings her fingers to my lips, her eyes daring me to suck. On automatic, I open my mouth and suck her juices off her fingers like a deprived, sex-crazed asshole.

  “Fuck this shit!”

  Not meaning to be so rough, I spin her in my arms then crash my lips to hers, plundering her mouth with my tongue until the sweetness of her come coats my tongue. She tastes exactly as I thought she would. Like a sweet angel with carnal thoughts.

  I need to fuck her. Now!

  Lifting her up by her ass, she yelps but grabs on, her legs wrapping around my torso as I quickly walk over to the nearest wall.

  “Yeah, you can pleasure yourself all right and that was fucking hot.” She shudders, and I kiss her neck, biting and soothing. “But it’s time for me to make you fucking cum harder than you’ve ever done before.”

  “That’s mighty cocky of you.”

  “Don’t start with me.”

  “Hmm,” she starts, pulling up my shirt. “You’re seriously ornery today.”

  “I had no fucking idea where you were. You ignored my calls, my texts.” I rip the rest of her clothes off. Her incredible tits are now right there for the taking, her nipples hard as diamonds. “Unzip me.”

  “I told you…”

  “You ran from me,” I growl, the patience I was trying to keep out the door with the taste of her on my tongue. “Un-fucking-zip me, Mia, damn you.”

  I want her to do this. I want her to take the next step with me while giving her the c
hance to say no. But she doesn’t say no. She holds my gaze, her back pressed to the wall. She reaches down and unzips me, then takes my hard cock out without hesitation.

  With a wicked glint now in her eyes, she squeezes my hard cock, then rubs pre-cum all over like she’s fascinated.

  “Will you come in my hand?”

  If she keeps doing that.

  “Not today.” I reach in the back pocket of my jeans for my wallet then I give it to her to grab a condom. She takes it out, then rips it open with her teeth.

  “Now what?” she questions, her eyes light and glittering with amusement when I’m at the point of pain. She enjoys this, when she knows she’s got all the power.

  “You know what you need to do, smart mouth, sheath me.”

  Not in a hurry she does as she’s told. When she’s done though, I don’t wait for her. I finger her again. Suddenly, nothing is so funny anymore. With her body at the edge of another orgasm, I plunge deep into her depths with one shove and she screams.

  “Holy shit, Julian!”

  I start fucking her in earnest, her moans and screams mixed with my pants and groans, the soundtrack to two more orgasms for her and one for me. And in all that time, it’s the way she looked at me, the way she kissed me, the way she saw into my soul and stayed that told me I was fucked when it comes to her. Totally screwed.

  And with Paris right out the window, I can’t help but bury my soul in her, so that she comes home with me and becomes my wife.

  Not my brother’s complicated mess.

  23

  I don’t know how it happens but from that day in the ballet studio, Julian and I formed a routine of sorts. I moved out of Rye’s place because it was just kind of inappropriate doing the things Julian did to me in her parent’s flat.

  I moved into the penthouse he and Liam have been living in.

  Things took a new shift between us, lulling me into a false sense of security. I knew it was all fake and wrong and one day the bubble was going to burst in my face but for those few days that spilled over into weeks, I held on to it with both hands.