Wicked Dreams (Fallen Royals, #1)(23)

“Why’d he bring you here, of all places?”

“It was our spot.” There are a few ducks in the pond now. I get up and grab a rock, lobbing it at them. They take off, flying low across the water. Away from us and toward safety. Smart birds.

“So? Your house was—”

“No,” I argue. “Our house was never our house. It was yours. Always.”

He lifts one eyebrow.

“Every inch of that property was yours,” I whisper. “We vanished like smoke. You probably never even realized—”

“Never realized?” he repeats, staring straight ahead. His jaw ticks. “Never realized what, exactly? That you were gone? That you wrecked my whole goddamn life?”

I cringe backward.

“Yeah, Margo. Run and hide like you always do.” He gets up and stalks toward me.

I back away, tripping over fallen leaves and twigs.

He catches me, like he always does.

“You cannot run from me,” he growls. “You can’t hide. And you will fucking pay for what you’ve done.”

My lip trembles. How do I focus on the hate when all I feel is fear? “I don’t know what I did. How am I supposed to make that right? If I don’t know—”

He covers my mouth with his hand. “Shut up. Shut up, shut up, shut up, you lying whore.”

Shut up, you lying whore.

I close my eyes. Those words—I’ve heard them, but not at me. Not out of Caleb’s mouth.

“Like father like son?” I say against his palm.

He leans in. “Don’t you dare speak about my father.”

I stiffen. “Caleb—”

He twists my wrist, bending me over. “I was almost starting to like you again,” he mutters. “And then—” He pats me down, his hand almost as violating as in the car.

I get my arm loose, pushing at his chest. “What the fuck?”

He grabs me again, finally finding what he’s looking for: my phone in my back pocket.

I snatch it before he can do whatever he’s going to do and take off.

Where, I don’t know. It isn’t like I can run all the way home. But once I get my phone back, my mind registers the awful glint in his eyes. He’s murderous. Dangerous.

He’s worse than a demon.

He’s the fucking devil.

I sprint up the running path, shoving my phone in my bra. I make it to the curve in the path, just before the trees break open.

He tackles me from behind, his arms wrapping around my middle.

He doesn’t cushion our landing, either. I don’t have time to protect myself, except to bring my arms in like tucked wings. We hit the ground hard, sliding and rolling down an embankment, and I immediately propel us sideways. We’re a wild tangle of limbs.

Caleb stops us, his weight crushing down on me. One of his legs has mine pinned, and he grabs my wrists and drags them above my head.

I’m stretched out and furious, trying to kick at him, when he leans down and kisses me.

Another mind game.

I bite his lip hard enough to draw blood. The sharp metallic flavor hits my lips, but he doesn’t stop. It fills my mouth, and then his tongue pushes inside, claiming all of my space. All of my oxygen.

I hate you, I say on repeat in my mind, if only to try to remind myself that I’m not this person. I’m not the person who falls for the bully. I’m not the girl who falls to her knees when the handsome boy pays attention to her.

If I want to win his games, I’ll have to remember that.

If I lose… I’ll lose more than the game. I could lose myself, too.

“Kiss me,” he growls against my lips, my only reprieve.

And then he’s back on me, and damn it, the kiss brings out feelings my body doesn’t know how to handle. His hand slides down my side, into my jeans. He touches me like no one has before, and I might just combust.

I arch my back, loathing myself.

“I used to dream about this,” he says, leaving my lips and moving down my throat.

I don’t think about how Lenora and Robert will react if I come home with a hickey. Okay, I do. I think it, and then the thought blows out of my mind at the first pinch of Caleb’s teeth in my skin.

I moan. It’s a little surreal: who is that on the ground, making sounds she’s only heard in movies? Feeling things she didn’t think she had a right to feel?

“How long should I deny you, love?” he asks.

A burning ache spreads through me, chased by a spark of something extraordinary. I shift. I curl my fingers into fists.

“Should I leave you like this? Spread out, begging for me?”

He rises up on his elbow, staring down at me while his fingers move on the most sensitive part of me.

“D-do you want me to beg?”

He grins. “Maybe. Or maybe I just want…”

His hand slides out of my jeans, up under my shirt. My eyes widen.

And then he takes my phone out of my bra, hopping to his feet.

My cheeks burn. Because, yet again, I’m an idiot.

And you let him touch you.

“Take me home.” I climb to my feet.

“I want you to realize something.” He starts walking down the path, back to the car. “You’ll come when I say. You’ll beg when I say. You’ll give me your fucking phone when I say. Did you forget? This is your punishment, and I own you.”