Brutal Obsession (86)

Jesus. Who would’ve thought I’d be arguing about a nickname… this whole night is a mind-fuck. And in the back of my head, I have Senator Devereux’s secretary reminding me of my agreement with them. The fact that my aquatic therapy costs hundreds of dollars that I don’t have to spare, and they’ve been footing the bill.

“You’re nothing special,” Paris snaps at me, flipping her hair over her shoulder.

I roll my eyes. I’m sick of her attitude, but I don’t have the energy to deal with it today. “Neither are you, Paris. Pretty sure you’ve never had an original thought in your head.”

She stares at me, then stands. She grabs her drink and marches over.

Absolutely not. I’m not getting another drink dumped over my head.

I start to rise, but Greyson beats me to it. He snatches it out of her hand and slams it on the table, then sinks back into his seat.

“You’re an embarrassment,” he says to her. “Get the fuck away from us.”

Paris freezes.

This would be so fucking gratifying if I wasn’t pissed at myself for coming over here.

Then she glitches. That’s the only way I can describe it. Her mouth opens and shuts, her eyes twitch. She’s motionless in front of us. If she was a computer, she’d be the spinning wheel of death, just thinking over and over.

So I do the only thing I can think of to make her meltdown even worse.

I turn and grab the front of Greyson’s shirt, pulling him into me.

Our lips touch.

He lets out a huff of surprise, and then his hands wind around my back. Smugness radiates through him. Whatever element of surprise I had, of control, is quickly lost. He leans into me, bending me into the back of my chair, and pries my mouth open with his tongue. He tastes me and conquers my mouth. I feel thoroughly claimed by the time he’s done.

And when he is, when I finally straighten, Paris is gone.

Madison, too.

I just kissed Greyson.

Something I shouldn’t have done.

I lean back. “Maybe I wasn’t clear before.”

He cocks his head.

“We’re done.” I stand, and he mirrors me. He follows when I back away. “There’s no us. There’s no you and I together at a table, or kissing, or—or looking at each other.”

He watches me.

It’s not enough to tell him we’re done.

I need to go bigger.

He steps forward, and suddenly it becomes a game in his mind. I must give him something. A flash in my eye, a twitch. Something that reminds him that he has the power to put fear into me—and he likes it.

“You don’t call the shots, Vi.”

I turn and walk briskly away. I make it all the way out of the dining hall before he catches me. He’s civil in public—barely. Can’t have another defamatory article calling him an abuser, probably. Although Daddy Dearest would get that removed in a flash—and probably sue the paper to boot.

Nothing sticks to Greyson Devereux.

He drags me up the stairs, to a lounge area, and backs me into a corner. There’s no one up here. Everyone’s downstairs, heading into or out of the dining hall.

That’s probably why he picked here. Right on the edge of being discovered.

He pushes me to my knees and unbuttons his pants.

I rock back on my heels and glare up at him. “Grey—”

“Don’t.” His hands fall away. “Take my cock out and suck it, Violet.”

I look away. Shame fills me. If I make a noise, we’ll be caught. If anyone decides to come up here and check this shadowed corner, we’ll be caught.

A shiver races up my spine.

“Maybe I’ll take a video of this and post it on the school’s main page again? Two guys, one semester, one filthy mouth.” He grabs my jaw again and forces his thumb into my mouth. He opens it, pressing the pad down on my tongue. “Just say the word. Or…”

I shudder and lower his zipper. I pull his boxers and pants down just far enough to free his cock. It bobs, hardening by the second, at eye level. I reach out and slide my hand down his shaft.

He releases my jaw and winds his fingers in my hair. My control is nonexistent… in that Greyson has me right where he wants me. A fly in his web. He moves my head forward, and I open my mouth wide. He tastes familiar, but he doesn’t give me a moment to adjust. His hips rock forward, and the tip hits the back of my throat—then slides farther down.

I gag around him, choking when my breath is cut off.

I forgot he enjoys that aspect. He likes to watch my face redden, my eyes fill with tears. He pulls out, and I suck in a deep breath through my nose before I lose the ability again. I hold his thighs as he fucks my face, one hand on the back of my head and the other braced on the wall behind me.

Someone gasps behind him. Fire erupts through me, shame and embarrassment turning my whole body into an inferno.

We’re caught.

“Get out of here,” Greyson growls over his shoulder.

I don’t know if they listen. I keep my eyes half-closed until he jerks my head back. I lift my gaze to his and hold it. It’s blurry through my tears. My nose runs, too, and I can’t do anything about the saliva.

He moves faster, taking and taking and taking.

“You. Don’t. Leave. Me.”

I hope my eyes translate my thoughts.