A Debt Owed(32)

The onslaught of his touch on my senses is too much as he caresses my entire body while kissing me, and my resolve breaks inch by inch.

“What are you doing?” I mutter, barely able to get the words out.

“Kissing you … loving you,” he murmurs, planting kisses all over my neck.

I’m powerless against his assault. It’s as if my body refuses to move, despite my brain telling me to do something. To tell him to fuck off and get out.

But I don’t.

Even though I can talk and squeeze the blanket as he kisses my shoulder while he caresses me… I’m even getting wet.

Why do I let this happen? I hate him.

But at the same time, I’m not even sure I want him to stop. My body resonates with the things he’s doing, the way he touches me, and I’m completely taken over in the moment by his domination.

I belong to him. I gave away my life so my father could live his.

My body is Easton’s to do with as he pleases. And now he wants it.

Is this because of what I did in the tub? I drew him toward me and made him come to my room. Why did I have to act out like that? Stupid, stupid Charlotte!

“Yes, that’s it. Give in to me, Charlotte,” he murmurs into my ear.

He grips my wrists and pins them together above my head while he’s toying with me. I’m confused, completely dumbstruck by all the emotions and sensations coursing through my veins.

I’ve never felt anything like this before, not with any other boy I’ve been with, and it terrifies me to the point of being unable to resist.

“You want this, Charlotte. Admit it,” he growls, rolling on top of me. “Shouldn’t have taunted me in that tub. But you knew what you were doing. Well, now you have me.”

The wicked smile on his face makes my heart pound faster. But before I can form a coherent reply, he’s already smashed his lips onto mine. His kisses are all-consuming and numbing, as though I’m diving into a deep sea and don’t need to come up to breathe. It’s thrilling, unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before. I’m delirious from the way he claims my mouth as if it always belonged to him.

When he unlocks his lips from mine, I suck in the air, my lips tingly and greedy for more. But I refuse to ask. I refuse to give in to this jackass of a man with the smoothest tongue skills I’ve ever experienced.

And just like that, he slips off me, crawls off the bed, and disappears from my room as if he was never here in the first place. I’m utterly confused, staring into the hollow space he left as if that’ll make him come back. Even though I tell myself I don’t want him to. My mind is reeling from the nerve he had to touch me like that, yet my body is zinging in the remaining pleasure that’s ebbing away.

Just like my resolve.





Chapter 15





Charlotte



When morning comes, I still feel tired. I counted every hour on the clock. I’ve never been this anxious, but I couldn’t stop staring at the ceiling as my body continued to hum to his tune.

Fuck him.

I’m so angry because of what Easton did … for toying with me and then leaving me high and dry. Why? What was the point? Did he suddenly regret what he was doing, or did he want to make me feel all confused?

I growl to myself, annoyed that I don’t know the answer and can’t look into his head to find it either. As the smell of freshly baked bread reaches my nostrils from all the way down in the kitchen, I jump out of bed and put on a bathrobe.

Without thinking it over, I storm out my room. My head is clear, and I no longer feel groggy, so I’m ready for a fight. Maybe it’s foolish to confront him, but what’s he going to do about it? He’s already got me, and he thinks he can do whatever he wants, so it can’t get any worse.

I walk down the stairs in my bathrobe and tie the knot around my waist well enough so he can’t wriggle his fingers inside while we talk. A part of me tells me to turn around and go back—to stop this before it goes too far—but I can’t let this go.

When I walk into the dining area, Easton’s already sitting at the head of the table, reading a newspaper while drinking a cup of coffee as if everything is fine and dandy. He doesn’t even acknowledge me as I step closer and place my hand on the table, sliding it all along the edge as I walk to the other end and sit down there, staring at him. He doesn’t budge.

I’m momentarily distracted by the fact that my favorite magazine, QT, is lying right in front of me. I almost grab it, but then stop myself before I do. I can’t give in to temptations, however small. Besides, it’s awkward that he has the same magazine I always have at my home. Does he know what I like? Or is he going to randomly place a new magazine in front of me every day until I give in, so he learns what I like?

When the waiter comes in with our food, Easton looks up from his paper, and says, “Great. Smells amazing.” He clears his throat and closes the newspaper, folding it neatly before adding, “Could you pour another cup? It seems we have a guest.”

“Of course,” the waiter says, then leaves in a hurry.

I cock my head, still attempting to get his attention, but he’s still slurping his coffee and checking his watch like no other. Of course, he’s carefully but obviously avoiding me. Who wouldn’t after what he did last night?