Her Soul to Take (Souls Trilogy #1)(15)

I sighed, and mentally scolded myself for romanticizing the douchebag’s looks. He was absurdly attractive, so what?

If you’ve never been fucked bent over a pulpit with one man in your ass and another in your mouth…

I took a slow breath. I shouldn’t have been thinking about him that way, not when I had to see him every day on campus, not when I’d promised myself that I was going to stay away from jumping into bed with assholes after what happened with Rachel.

But it was just a fantasy, and that cold, creepy walk home had me needing a little comfort.

I could imagine his hand stroking up my back, fingers tracing along my spine to the base of my neck and gripping me there. Gripping me like a little doll to be used and maneuvered. Doll. He’d seemed to like calling me that.

I swallowed hard, my mouth dry. I couldn’t deny that my desires ran on the dark and kinky side.

I sighed, a little whimper coming out with it as I wrapped my hands around my body and my fingers stroked over my hips. In the darkness behind my closed eyes, it was his fingers tracing over me.

Something about him wasn’t safe; I couldn’t put my finger on it, but he set off alarm bells in my brain that told me to run. A rabbit knew instinctively to flee from a wolf. So why, instead of fleeing, was I fantasizing about being caught?

I caressed my fingers down, moving slowly and softly around my navel before I stroked over my abdomen and between my legs. The hot water and my gentle touches sent a shiver up my back, and my arousal swelled. My inner thighs were sensitive, even to my own hands. I leaned against the shower wall, the steam rising around me, and my finger slipped between my labia to stroke over my clit.

My breath caught in my throat. I stroked myself again, merciless to the shuddering it produced in my legs. I’d been rude to him, I knew I had. He easily could have responded to that rudeness by putting me in my place.

I let the fantasy spiral as my fingers continued to play between my legs and my other hand caressed over my throat. I imagined Leon gripping me there, just tight enough to stifle my air, holding me still and helpless as he scolded me.

I used to feel so guilty for fantasizing about being taken advantage of, as if that horrifying reality was something I would ever actually want outside the safety of my mind or a consensual role play. But I’d panic-read enough about the psychology of it that it no longer made me feel like a perverted hypocrite. There was something thrilling and cathartic in imagining being helpless. Helpless but pleasured. Helpless but desired.

It wasn’t just in horror films and haunted places that I indulged my love for dark things. My fantasies, the ones that made my breath hitch and my heart beat faster, were inky black as well.

“Did you really think I’d let you get away with speaking to me that way?” I imagined his eyes burning into me: bright and vicious, eager once he had me in his hands. “You should have tried to be a little more respectful.”

My knees weakened as my fingers massaged roughly over my clit, my dripping arousal making me slick. I imagined Leon standing over me, I imagined him laughing at my half-hearted struggles as he pinned me down, and yanked my pants down to my ankles.

“Curiosity will get you in trouble,” he snarled. Curiosity...yeah, he’d warned me about that. I could hear his scolding voice as surely as if he was there, hot in my ear. “Just look where it’s gotten you. This is what happens to perverted girls who don’t want to listen.”

I sunk down to the shower floor, laying back and letting the water flow over me. I felt pathetically desperate, but I needed this.

“Say you’re sorry, little Raelynn.”

I groaned, arching back, my fingers pressing inside and stroking over my clit as I fingered myself. I could imagine his chuckle, the curve of his cruel smile. I thought of the way his lean muscles had tensed beneath his shirt as I’d snapped back at him. I imagined them tightening in the same way as he bent me over, whispering in my ear, “I think the belt is what’s needed to teach you a lesson. Sometimes little brats just need to be whipped until they cry, don’t they?” I shuddered all over, torn between holding my breath and gasping desperately. “You should have thought of this before you were bad. Now, apologize, and maybe I’ll make you feel good after I —”

My orgasm gripped me, tensing every muscle until I shook and cried out, mouth agape. The fantasy was too much, it was wrong, it was dangerous. It was twisted to feel such a desire for a stranger to punish me, but I couldn’t deny the pleasure. My fingers curled back, unable to bear touching my sensitive clit for even another second.

As the waves of ecstasy receded, I lay there dazed and trembling with the water flowing over me. I got up slowly and leaned against the shower wall, staring at the water as it swirled down the drain. It was raining again, pattering against the fogged-up window above the shower.

I’d really screwed myself now. How the hell was I supposed to see that asshole on campus and not think of this?





Hey giiiirl, the Main Street Art Fest starts tonight! Come with??? We’re gonna have beers and ganjaaaaa!

The text was followed up by a string of wink-face, leaf, and smoke emojis. It took me a beat to realize the text was from Victoria; I’d forgotten to save her contact in my phone. Curled up on the couch with my morning coffee, I quickly texted her back.

For sure! I’ll be there!

It was a relief to already have a new friend willing to invite me out. Having Inaya had made the entire move easier, but if I was going to settle down here and get a long-term job, I needed more than just one friend, and Victoria had been nothing but sweet to me so far. I’d worried at first that she wouldn’t be, considering she had that Hot-Girl-Instagram-Influencer thing going on. It had only taken years of having people judge me by my appearance to finally start getting it through my head that I shouldn’t judge other people by theirs.