SNOB: A Dark College Enemies to Lovers Romance

Chapter 14

“Mac, I have to go.”

This class was hard enough. Pun intended.

They say guys with a big bark have a small dick. That’s far from the case for Mac. The entire class I watched that thing grow between his legs.

And that thing bounces right in front of me

“Wherever you’re going is with me, Butterfly,” he says, casually, as if his cock isn’t saluting me.

Don’t look, don’t look, don’t look.

“See something you like?” Dammit.

“More like something I hate,” I respond.

“You don’t hate me.” Mac takes one step, closing the distance between us. His naked chest hits my body and I try to steady my breaths so he doesn’t feel how fast my heart beats. Or how hot my skin is. “You hate the way I make you feel.”

“Right now, you’re making me feel trapped. You’re the reason Beau is gone.”

“I make you feel freedom, Butterfly. Last time I checked, the cops aren’t on your case. And you’re in a much better place than that dump in Grim Valley.” He flicks another finger at the word on my shirt. ”Be fucking grateful.”

“Me? You just let Hannah talk to me like I’m nothing.”

“You hold your own.”

“She’s telling everyone I’m as psychotic as you are.”

“You are.” His hold tight on my arm sends electricity flying through me as he presses me against his hot bare skin. He brings his lips to my ear. “Or did you forget pointing that fucking gun at me and pulling the trigger?” It’s hard to ignore that thing right against my stomach.

“You know why,” I remind him, trying to push him back but that hard bod doesn’t budge. “And you get off on it.” I can feel him pulsing against me. It goes with the rhythm of my heart, in unison like a fucked up song. “You’re sick, Mac.”

His hand comes to my throat in a tight grasp, heat exploding on my skin. It’s hard to speak, my voice croaking under his choke.

“What?” I push my words out. “You finally gonna kill me like you did Beau?”

“Maybe.” He squeezes tighter, a smirk growing.

“Do it. I dare you.”

He chuckles, his warm hand compressing my airways. “Don’t push me, Butterfly.” It’s tighter than usual like he’s trying to prove a point as the waves of lightning disappear. I’m at a loss for air, and that’s not because he”s hardening against me some more. “This is what happens when you do. Don’t ever get too comfortable.”

My eyes move to my left, to a small can of blue paint sitting on the tray of my easel. Moving my eyes back to him, I try to grab the paint without him noticing. “You want to fuck me first?” I choke. “Did you fuck Beau first too?”

“Did you?” He squeezes harder, my fingers touching the edge of the paint.

“Yes.” It’s a lie but his free hand comes to my neck next, like my words added to his fire. Like he’s jealous. First, it was Angelo, now Beau. I don’t miss the pattern. But I can’t think about that when I’m losing air.

My hand wraps around the paint, twisting the top off with my thumb.

“Ember,” he growls, noticing. It’s a warning.

One I’m not listening to.

In a quick swoop, I dump the contents of the can over his head before he finally releases me. It”s easy to laugh as I grasp for air. Mac looks like a chiselled Smurf as the paint rolls down his face to his rock-hard abs. It reminds me of what Hannah did on the first day. “You can thank your girlfriend from the Paradise Posse for the inspiration.”

“Well, aren’t you fucking stupid?” he growls, wiping the paint from his eyes.

“You look fucking stupid.” Grabbing my tote, I’m quick towards the door. “Lay your hands on me again and—” A gasp leaves me as something cold splashes my back, splatters of liquid landing on the side of my face. Bringing my fingers to it, it’s cold. Thick. Looking at my fingers solidifies my thoughts. Paint. Red.

Mac’s chuckle fires off something in me as I drop my tote, my eyes on the supply closet.

He notices, his gaze moving from mine to the large doors.

We both dash to it.

I beat him to it, grabbing the first thing I see. A small can of yellow paint.

Twisting the lid off, I throw paint his way. He dodges, but yellow paint still hits him. Before I can reach for another, he already has a small can of purple paint in each hand. He doesn’t hesitate before he whips more paint at me. Hiding behind a canvas doesn’t stop the paint from slapping with the red already on me.

It’s on.

I reach for another can and he dodges it when I toss more paint at him. Using my hands as a shield doesn’t offer much coverage when he throws more. But I’m quick to grab another small can just for him.

It’s not long before paint flies everywhere, the room like a kaleidoscope as we unleash colours on each other and… am I smiling?

“Face it, Everett.” Mac”s voice comes from one side of the supply closet door, my back against the other. The cans of paint in our hands feel like two guns and we’re in the middle of a shootout. “You’re as fucked up as I am. I saw that smirk when you pulled that trigger. It’s the same one on your face right now after I wrapped my hands around your throat.” My brows furrow but as he speaks, my eyes move to the bigger paint cans in the supply room. “We”re from different worlds, but we’re both monsters. You’re just too much of a pussy to show it. That’s the difference. I own my darkness. You?—”

With a swift step around the door, I pour the entire can of green paint over Mac’s head.

My hand comes to my mouth before I let out a laugh. He looks like an angry ogre.

“Shouldn’t have done that, Everett,” he says, his chest heaving as he steps towards me, his dick still pointed my way.

“Still a pussy?” With a step back, I hit the supply room door.

He closes the distance again, both hands landing on my shoulders before he spins me around, my chest to the door. His dick to my ass. “You’re out of line, Everett.” His voice lands in my ear, his staff throbbing against me.

“You were out of line when you fucked up my whole liiife…” The last word trails as he tugs my cutoffs to the side, my panties with it.

“You got your revenge,” he says. “I’m getting mine.” Something cold slides between my legs. Cold and smooth. It’s too hard to feel like him, too rigid. My cheeks heat, realizing just how easy it is for him to slide whatever he has inside me. The tip is thin before it fills me more, a gasp leaving me as lightning fires through me. “Here’s the thing. You’re gonna be a good girl and listen to me going forward. That doesn’t change, Ember.”

“You can’t make me do anything, Mac.” My voice trembles.

He tugs on my hair, his force pulling my head back as his lips touch my ear again. “I can make you do anything I want.” He pulls out of me, my ass poking back as if it wants more. And he gives it to me, pushing it back in harder before a moan escapes me, a fire burning from my core. “And I don’t even have to use my tool. You’ll imagine me filling you anyway.”

Then it hits me. “Is that a paintbrush?”

“This is art class, isn’t it?”

He thrusts harder, another moan escaping me. “Mac…”

“Careful how you say my name, Butterfly,” he groans in my ear, his cock rubbing against my ass. “I might just fuck you.” He thrusts that paintbrush harder, pressing it against my spot, reading my body like a book. A very dirty book. ”I won’t be nice when I do.”

“Is that what you want?” I”m almost breathless as the room disappears around us. It’s like I’ve been craving his touch. His attention. Even the stress from Hannah’s conversation fades.

“What I want is to see how good you take this.” He moves that stick faster, his grip on my strands getting tighter. “And you take it really well. Just like a Valley whore.”

“Fuck…” It’s hard to keep my composure when he moves the end of the thick brush faster and faster inside me.

Why do I let him keep doing this?

Because it feels so good.

This is a distraction. A distraction from him. A distraction from Beau.

His words circle my head.

Humiliation. Degradation. Praise.

“Will you come for me like the pretty little slut you are?” He groans in my ear as if he’s getting off on this too. His words swirl in my head as that pressure inside me builds.

You’re just as fucked up as I am.

My ass bounces back on that brush, wanting more. Moving his grip from my hair to my ass, he helps to pull me harder on it. And when he moves his hand around to rub at my swollen clit, I can’t help it anymore.

My legs shake as the room blurs.

“Do it,” he growls in my ear. “Come for me.”

My body listens to his command, my hand slapping against the door as I brace myself. A rush of electricity rolls through me, my body tensing as I reach that sweet release.

“Mac…” I moan, and I’m too deep in bliss to hate it. The room falls away, and I see fucking stars.

He keeps thrusting as roll after roll of intense warmth takes over me. It’s not until my body stops trembling that his chuckle fills my ear. “Did I kill you like I killed Beau?” The sickness of his words isn”t as harsh, his tone soft. The shakes in my body calm like the end of a storm before he releases me.

My back falls against his sweaty chest, an arm coming around me. Looking back at him, his eyes aren’t as sharp as before. Like there’s a human in that monstrous demeanour. And all I can ask is…

“What the fuck?”

But… that’s not my voice.

My eyes whip to the sound before they widen.

Greta.

She stands in the doorway as we lock eyes just as Mac pulls that paintbrush out of me.

“Mac,” I whisper and he turns back too, but Greta scurries away.

Fuuuck. Fuck!

Was the door open the entire time?

Pushing Mac back, I adjust my clothes and bolt for the door, our conversation moments ago in my head. The one where I told her nothing’s happening with Mac. “Greta, wait?—”

“You’re not leaving.” Mac’s paint-covered hand grabs me when my hand touches the doorframe.

“Mac, she saw us together.” That shouldn’t have happened. None of this should have happened. “I need to stop her.”

“You only need to do what I say,” he says, stepping in front of me. Still naked. “I thought I made that clear.”

I blink. “Mac, Greta just?—”

“I have my first game tonight and you’re coming with me.” He moves to grab the robe from his stool, finally putting something on to cover that hard rod. Moving back to me, he grabs my wrist in a tight hold. “Now.”