Reign (The Sainthood - Boys of Lowell High #3)(132)

Which is why he can’t fathom my lack of interest and my disdain. Especially since we’re engaged and scheduled to walk up the aisle next year.

“Stop!” I push his chest, forcing his vile mouth away from me. “My father’s home, and all it’ll take is one scream,” I threaten.

He narrows his eyes, and his mouth twists into a malevolent grin. “Have you forgotten Daddy Dearest is the one who brokered our marriage deal? Or the reason he’ll do anything to ensure it goes ahead?” He takes a step forward, reclaiming the space between us again.

I prod one finger in his firm chest. “Have you forgotten your father was the one who insisted I remain a virgin until our wedding night?” I take his evil grin and throw him back a smug one. “Or has he changed a generations-old rule because you can’t keep your grabby hands to yourself?” I tilt my chin up. “Call one of your fuck buddies. I’m sure they’ll be more than happy to suck your dick.”

Trent smirks as he extracts his cell, holding it to his ear. I fold my arms across my chest, waiting for the charade to play out.

The funny thing is, he genuinely thinks I care.

News flash—I couldn’t care less.

“I need your ass,” he barks into the phone, not even attempting to disguise it’s anything but a booty call. “No, Rochelle. I literally mean I need your ass. I’m filling all holes tonight, baby. Be ready.”

Asshole. He knows how I feel about that bitch.

Grinding my teeth, I work hard to keep my annoyance at bay.

I know Trent fucks around. A lot. And, I honestly couldn’t give two shits. I shudder to think what’d happen if he didn’t have his fuck buddies. Although Christian Montgomery made it a condition of the marital agreement negotiated with my father when I was ten—yes, ten—that I remain a virgin until my wedding night, Trent has been badgering me for sex for the past two years. I’d rather skin myself alive than willingly give myself to him, so I’ve spent two years fighting him off.

Occasionally, I’ll feel generous and blow him.

Usually, he’ll just take what he wants.

But he’s a selfish bastard with no regard for my needs, so it normally means he fucks my mouth, forcing me to swallow, while he tugs at my breasts, sometimes making them bleed.

It’s much worse when he’s been drinking, so I have some idea of what lies in wait for Rochelle when he arrives at her place.

But I can’t find it within myself to feel sympathy. Rochelle is the closest I have to an arch-nemesis at Rydeville High, and Trent knows how much we despise one another, which is why he deliberately called her in my presence.

Keeping up appearances is nonnegotiable if you’re a descendant of one of the founding families. It’s something ingrained in Trent, Drew, Charlie, and me from the time we were little. And my father is the perfect example of how to act like a raging manwhore behind closed doors while presenting as the perfect law-abiding citizen.

Everyone knows Trent fucks around on me, but provided he’s discreet, it’s permitted.

Drew is engaged too, but he treats his fiancée with respect, while Charlie doesn’t lower himself to bedding high school girls. However, if they wanted to whore themselves out whenever they felt like it, they’d get pats on the back.

Jane and I can barely piss without someone breathing down our necks.

Jane Ford is my best friend—my only friend—and she’s also Drew’s intended.

My twin and I are both destined for arranged marriages once we graduate a few weeks after our eighteenth birthday, thanks to the “business” deals our father made with the other elite patriarchs.

Trent rubbing my nose in it is not considered gentlemanly.

Mostly, I don’t care.

But Rochelle grates on my nerves. Making sly digs in contravention of the code. Shooting me filthy looks when the guys aren’t watching. Playing juvenile pranks, like stuffing stupid shit in my locker. Thinking she’s someone important because Trent screws her sometimes. But she comes in handy, occasionally.

Like now.

If Trent thinks I’ll change my mind because he intends to fuck my enemy, he’s another think coming. “Knock yourself out, stud,” I say, smiling pleasantly at him. “And make sure you wrap it before you tap it. Wouldn’t want you to catch an STD.”

Trent throws back his head, laughing. “Jealous much?”

No. Definitely not.

He grabs hold of my arm, yanking me into his hard body. “I’ll ditch the bitch. Just spread those pretty legs nice and wide, and let me fill you up.” He nips at my lower lip, dragging it between his teeth, drawing blood.

“I will never voluntarily have sex with you.” I attempt to wrestle out of his arms, but it’s futile because he’s way too strong. He could overpower me easily, and it’s happened too regularly to count. “You repulse me.” I glare at him, watching his nostrils flaring as he grips my upper arms tight. “You’ll have to force yourself on me if you want any because I will never make it easy for you.”

His fingers dig into my flesh, hurting me, but I refuse to cry out. To show any signs of weakness. “You say that like it turns me off.” He jabs my stomach with his hard-on while one hand slides down to cup my ass. “Like it would stop me.” His finger prods the crack of my ass through my clothes, and I flinch. “Hate sex is the best.” His mouth crashes down on mine, and I press my lips together, denying him access, refusing to kiss him back. His kiss turns vicious, his mouth punishing, as he bites my lips, drawing more blood, but I don’t back down.