Chapter 3
Chapter three
Tytus
The nerve of this woman. The fucking gall.
She thinks she can sass back, that she can fight me on this? She doesn’t know just how far over the edge I am right now.
She fucking betrayed me, and in the most fucked up way she could. Like she wanted to rip my heart out and eviscerate all the history we’ve shared.
She let another man fuck her in my jersey in front of my goddamn locker. She wanted him to do it—she just fucking admitted it.
I don’t possess an ounce of sympathy for her situation. I have exactly zero concern for what she wants anymore.
Because what she wants is wrong.
Somehow, everything got twisted up.
She’s confused. She’s forgotten.
She was supposed to fucking wait for me.
We’ve been at Holt for less than two months, and she’s already given herself to a man who humiliated her on the first day of class.
Not only that, but she asked him to fuck her in my fucking jersey.
She was supposed to be mine.
She was supposed to fucking wait.
Forget possession.
Pure obsession has taken over.
The visceral, pulsating need to mark her and keep her curls around every muscle in my body. Every tendon, every ligament is barbed wire, locking in my fixation.
I was patient.
I’ve been willing to fucking wait.
I thought that once we were here, together again, once we’d settled into a routine, all the pieces would click into place.
But she didn’t fucking wait for me.
All that patience was in vain.
Now I’ve got a lot of ground to make up.
Sawyer may have given up on the idea of us. But there’s never been a shadow of a doubt in my mind that we’ll be together.
She’s mine.
I’ll make sure she knows it. I’ll make sure everyone knows it.
Starting right fucking now.
According to the clock on the wall outside the lecture hall, class starts in two minutes.
I couldn’t have timed it more perfectly if I tried.
The whole class will be in there, seated, ready to witness the two of us when we stride through those doors together. They’ll see it, and he’ll see it, too.
Professor Eden is about to learn the hard way what happens when he fucks with what’s mine.
With a steady grip on her hand, I whisper, “You know what’s on the line, petit diable. Don’t even think about trying to shrug me off or putting any kind of space between us.”
Sawyer glares up at me, pretty brown eyes rimmed red, the skin around them splotched and swollen from crying.
Will she cry when she chokes on my cock for the first time? I can’t wait to find out.
“You don’t control me, Ty.”
“Au contraire,” I tell her playfully.
I’ve never been more in control in my life.
I drop her hand.
She sighs with relief.
But before she can put any distance between us, I sling my arm over her shoulder and pull her into my side.
“Ready, wifey?” I ask, nodding toward the door.
She swallows audibly, forcing her chin up.
What will the professor think when he sees his little fuck toy walk into his lecture hall with her husband for the first time?
A thrill shoots through me at the possibilities.
Sawyer is far less enthusiastic.
As a single tear rolls down her cheek, I swipe it away with my thumb. Then I stick it in my mouth and let out a hum. I’ve never felt more in control. Or more optimistic about what our future holds.