Page 24 of Wicked Dreams (Fallen Royals 1)

“Stop.” I hate how it shoots straight to my center. How everything inside me is alive in a way that it hasn’t been in a really fucking long time.

“You give in?” His eyes light up. “You like this, Sheep. Admit it and I’ll stop.”

He opens my shirt, inch by inch.

I bite my lip, refusing to play his game. It’s dumb, really. A tiny, terrified part of me is screaming to say whatever I need to in order to escape. To claim my sanity back, because he’s slowly walking us to the cliff’s edge.

Once we fall, there’s no going back.

“Admit you like it, and I’ll stop,” he repeats. He looks at my bra, tugging my shirt open wider. He pulls down the top edge of the bra cup. It exposes my breast, nipple hard under his attention.

Shame floods through me, but I press my lips together.

I can make this stop.

He leans down and touches his lips to the flesh just above my nipple. And then he bites, sucking hard, and my whole body stiffens. It’s pleasure and pain wrapped together, confusing my mind. Building until I can’t take it anymore.

“S-stop.” I push at his head, and my skin pulls before he releases his teeth’s hold.

He steps away, grinning at me. “Are you afraid?”

“Of you?”

His eyes gleam, and he looks down. “I know you’re afraid of me. I don’t need to ask. Are you wet?”

I suck in a breath.

“Yes or no, love,” he says. “If you don’t answer, I can easily find out.”

“You wouldn’t—”

His eyebrow rises. I lift my hands to push him away, but he grabs my wrists and pins them against my chest. His grip is bruising. One of his hands slides up the inside of my thigh, under the edge of my panties. His finger strokes me, sudden and vicious.

I arch away from him, glaring holes in his head. It’s foreign and painful, but also… not. He thrusts his finger into me again, his thumb on my clit.

“Soaked.”

He pulls back, and I choke on a gasp. Tears prick my eyes at the violence of it. At the audacity.

“You won’t—”

“Get away with this?” He rolls his eyes, raising his finger to his lips. It glistens in the light streaming in through the window. “I almost wish you were right. But here’s a fact, love: everyone adores me. No one will believe you. Especially with the rumors circulating about your parents.”

I swipe at my eyes, desperate to not cry in front of him.

“Suck,” he orders, shoving his finger at me. “And I’ll take you home. Promise.”

The tears fall, and I try to blink them away. “Fuck you.”

He shrugs, sticking his finger in his mouth. He does a thorough job cleaning me off him, withdrawing his finger out with a pop. When he’s done, he walks out of the kitchen.

I follow him on shaky legs out the front door. We didn’t get to the best part, I almost say, but honestly—I’m done for today. Exhaustion settles over me, cold and thick.

He climbs in his car. Again, I follow.

Except, the passenger door is locked.

He rolls down the window, shooting me a wink. “Shouldn’t have tested me, Sheep. See you tomorrow.”