The Never King (Vicious Lost Boys #1)(35)

He keeps his arms on the chair as he turns up to me.

“Now that you’re here,” he says, “what do you plan to do about it?”

He’s tempting me, teasing me. He shifts again, this time pressing forward with his hips. He’s not hard yet though, and it pisses me off.

All of those needy, inexperienced football players were hard on a dime.

But…he’s got a good point.

What do I plan to do? My plan had no end point. Just a beginning.

I can’t turn back now. I’ll look like a coward and he’ll be gratified with the fact that I couldn’t follow through with my recklessness.

So I do the only thing a girl can do in this scenario—I pull off my sweater and my t-shirt.

I’m not wearing a bra so my breasts hit the air and my nipples immediately shrink to dark beads.

Vane growls again and now, now he’s hard.

I am full of so much pride I might float off into the rain cloud.

Just as long as he doesn’t see my back, just as long as he doesn’t see my scars.

I don’t want him to think me weak.

His hands come to my hips and he grinds me down on him.

The air gets stuck in my throat.

“Pretty little Darling whore,” he says. “Trying to pretend she’s bigger than she is.”

“Vicious shadow of death,” I say, “trying to pretend like this is all beneath him.”

“I made no such claim.” His hand trails from my hip, up my waist, and a shiver rocks over my shoulders. My nipples are so tight now, they’re painful and desperate for warmth.

Vane sits forward and brings his mouth to my peak.

I inhale in a hiss as he slides his tongue over me, then bites at me.

He wraps his arm around my waist, rocking me against him.

This is happening.

I’ll have them all when this is over.

I rub my pussy against his shaft, wishing there was no clothing between us. Do I make the first move or does he?

Take, that voice says in the back of my mind.

Take what you want.

I reach down between us and start to unbutton his pants. I’m trembling from anticipation and fear.

At any moment, he could turn that dark power on me, the terror.

His mouth still on my nipple, he turns up to me.

“Look at me,” he orders.

His dark hair hangs over his forehead and his violet eye is bright.

The air gets lodged in my throat as the terror slithers in and his face turns sharp.

Before I know what’s happening, he has me pinned on the floor, his entire body vibrating with barely restrained rage.

“Listen to me very carefully, Darling.” His teeth grind together. “You do not want to fuck with me.”

I choke down air, trying to keep the terror at bay as my heart pounds a warning in my ears. “I just want to be fucked by you.”

He sits up and slaps my tit.

I jolt, yelping in shock, and he clamps his hand over my mouth and the terror swells to a crescendo in my gut.

Every fiber in my body is telling me to get up and run. It’s a crawling sensation beneath my skin that I can’t shake.

Run far. Run fast.

Run. Run.

RUN.

Hand still clamped over my mouth, he says, “No.”

One menacing word delivered with enough fire to burn.

My body is writhing for something, anything. Release or defeat or pain or pleasure.

I can’t contain it and I can’t think straight and my clit is throbbing.

“Please,” I say, the word muffled around his hand.

The pressure of his body is gone in a beat and I blink up at the loss of him.

“I’m not going to make you my pretty little broken fuck doll,” he tells me, and then he stalks from the room and I gulp down air.

I lie there on the rug for several long minutes, not entirely sure what just happened and if I actually survived it.

Am I dead?

I feel like I just leapt off of a cliff, but I haven’t hit yet. I’m still falling.

As the dark clouds roll in and the rain falls harder, I finally breathe normally and crawl up to my knees to fetch my sweater.

I get dressed and collapse into Vane’s abandoned chair, feeling spent but unsatisfied too.

Goddamn him.

I hate him. Which just makes me want to make him give in even more. Just so I can gloat about it.

But maybe he’s right—wanting that might make me a glutton for punishment.

And oh how sinister that punishment would be.





24





PETER PAN


When I come up from the tomb, I find the Darling in the library curled in one of the leather chairs by the giant circular window. She’s just staring at the glass as rain plinks against it, but there’s a book open in her hands.

The sun is gone, but it’s hard to know for sure, the sky is so heavy and dark.

She is a tempting sight. Like a wild, exotic bird that I want to capture and cage so that only I can hear her sing.

When she realizes I’m there, she blinks over at me and shifts in the chair, unfolding her legs from beneath her. She’s wearing only an oversized sweater, her legs bare. I could easily slip my hand up her thighs, steal in beneath the sweater, make her writhe beneath me.

I get a flash of what I did to her last night and my cock aches for a repeat. I don’t get lost in pussy that often. Sometimes I need to fuck just to feel, but I haven’t fucked like that in a long time.