Chapter 20
Chapter Twenty
Kade
I stare at her beautiful, pink pussy lips and dive right back in to eat her out.
Her sweet cunt is the most exquisite thing I’ve ever tasted. No wonder I’ve gone insane.
Here I am doing everything I said I wouldn’t do.
Don’t touch her —way too late.
Don’t get too close —I can’t even remember thinking that.
Don’t cross the line —I’m fucked.
And I want more.
Just the sight of her coming undone in my arms with her little moans of pleasure fucks me over, and I want to stay just like this.
I don’t want to fix my mind, my body, or my soul.
I don’t want to remember the reasons that sent me here, or anything about the hate I’m supposed to feel for her.
All I want right now is her. Her —Isabelle Kolyav, in this moment where she’s the girl a devil like me was never supposed to touch. Fuck everything else to hell and beyond.
I already know that when I come to my senses, logic will return to screw with me, but I don’t care.
I groan into the smooth skin of her clean-shaven mound and feast on her like she’s the very last meal I’ll ever eat in this life.
I lick, suck, tug at her clit, and soak up the melodious hums coming from her body.
My fucking dick is straining so badly against my pants, any friction is going to make me blow my load.
I drive her back to the edge of orgasm and she comes again. This time Isabelle grabs my shoulders and digs her nails into my skin. If I weren't wearing clothes she’d cut me, but I like this pain.
It’s the sort that only comes with pleasure attached to it.
She rubs her pussy against my face and I’m so engrossed in taking more from her that I barely, barely hear the faint, faraway sound of footsteps.
But she hears it and tenses up.
“Kade, someone's coming.” The panic in her voice makes me stop.
It’s only then that I realize the footsteps are neither faint or far away. Whoever is coming is walking up the steps that will lead them right to us.
In a blind panic, Isabelle jumps off the table and grabs her top from the floor. She tugs it back on just in time before Ms. Minchin walks around the corner and sees us.
Ms. Minchin is an elderly lady with a permanent frown, thick librarian glasses, who she looks and dresses like she belongs in a Dr. Seuss book.
“Good morning, Ms. Minchin.” Isabelle puts on her best chirpy voice but she sounds guilty as hell.
My guess is that Ms. Minchin heard exactly what we were up to and came to check it out.
“This is a public library,” she replies in her Miss Marple English accent. She looks down her nose, especially at me and frowns at Isabelle. “This is not a brothel or a playhouse, or whatever it is you young people call it these days.”
The way she says you young people makes me think she never allowed herself to be young and was probably always confined to a library.
“I’m… so sorry.” Isabelle’s face is almost as red as the crimson-carpeted floors. “I was researching for my project.”
“It didn’t sound that way, dear. Also, your top is inside out and your bra is on the floor.”
Isabelle looks like she might wither away. “I’m so sorry.”
“Get a room next time.”
“Okay, Ms. Minchin,” I reply, speaking for the first time since she busted us. Of course, my simple response makes it worse. Even though I wasn’t being rude, my tone always sounds like I am.
With her head held high, she looks me up and down like I’m a menace to society, then turns on her heels and marches away.
Isabelle grabs her bra from the floor and rushes back to the table with her bag.
I follow her and grab her arm.
She tries to break free but I tighten my grip.
“ You ,” she snarls.
“What me?”
“What do you mean, what? All you do is make me crazy and get me in trouble. You are hell-bent on ruining my life. You wrecked my chances of getting into Cambridge and now you’re going to get me kicked out of here, too. Oh my God, I hate you.”
I hate when she says that. And I won’t remind her that she doesn’t hate me. Instead I take pleasure in showing her, by yanking her back to my chest and kissing her.
She almost gives in. Almost. Until she does what she should have done in the first place and pushes me away. I still keep my grip on her arm.
“Let me go.”
“Come with me.”
“Where?” She narrows her eyes.
“My apartment.”
“To do what, Kade? Eat biscuits and drink tea ?”
She fucking knows what the hell I’m talking about but she’s testing me. “I want to fuck you. Either we do it there, or we do it here on the table.”
She sucks in a breath and her skin pales, losing all its color. “You are so vile.”
“Come with me.”
“No. I’m not going anywhere with you. And outside of that stupid compensation service, I don’t want to see you.”
I’ve never in my life had a woman refuse me. Never.
I also never thought my first rejection would be from her. The sting feels so strange it grates on my nerves and infuriates me.
“You didn’t sound like you didn’t want to see me when you said you wanted more.”
“That was different.” Her cheeks color fiercely.
“I’ll bet it was. I guess if I were someone like Michael, you’d say yes in a heartbeat, wouldn’t you? You’d definitely fuck him and all the others. God knows who you’ve been with before.”
I shouldn’t have said that, so I know I deserve the hard slap she lands across my cheek.
“You asshole. I haven’t been with anyone and I certainly won’t be with someone who wants to destroy me.”
At first I’m so mad I don’t quite realize what she’s saying. Then I do.
I haven’t been with anyone.
Does that mean… she’s a virgin?
No way. I don’t believe it. She can’t be. “What do you mean, you haven’t been with anyone?”
“You know what I mean, so let me go.”
Fuck . It’s true. She’s a virgin.
I hold her gaze, staring past the layer of hatred misting her eyes. I search until I find what I’m looking for. That light of innocence. Beyond the angst, it shines in her.
So bright, so true, so pure.
I never realized before now that light was there because she’s pure in every way.
Few things truly shock me. This is the first in a very long time, and I’m having trouble processing it.
I look her up and down, wondering how the fuck she could still be a virgin.
With that perfect body, she looks like a goddess come to life. Every man’s dream wrapped in one sinful, decadent package.
In high school, and here , the way the guys looked at her and talked about what they’d do if they got her made me think they must have gotten lucky.
But they didn’t.
Not one of them.
I nearly did.
If Ms. Minchin hadn’t interrupted I know I would have been buried deep inside her by now.
I would have been Isabelle’s first.
The sudden realization makes me loosen my grip on her wrist. Her eyes fill with that loathing determination and she seizes the opportunity to flee.
I keep watching her running away from me.
This is the first time that I’ve felt I should let her go. The remnants of my humanity tell me to not just let her go, but also to leave her alone.
Maybe I’ve done enough by ruining her chances to go to Cambridge this year.
I was right about her innocent nature. So was Thorne.
He said there are some girls you don’t touch. She’s one of them.
He couldn’t have put it better.
As I watch her I know that even with my personal vendetta against her, she deserves better than me.
Even Michael with his drug rep would be better than me.
That asshole is the good, clean-cut guy on the outside, but he’s secretly into wild hard shit most people wouldn’t touch. That might be how he maintains his mask of perfection.
It’s funny. Weeks ago, when I threatened to expose his ass for taking heroin and other performance shit if he didn’t cancel his date with Isabelle, I thought I was the better man. I genuinely didn’t want her getting involved with a guy who's into drugs.
I don’t take drugs but I’m evil in other ways.
I entertain the thought of leaving her alone for all of one minute— maybe not even that —until the devious devil inside me reclaims my mind and squashes the idea like a bug.
The girl I want is now a woman and she’s a virgin. I’d be the first man to have her. The first man to own her body and make her bleed.
I’d be the first to take something from her that I can’t give back.
I’d be her first .
I can’t think of anything better than that, even if it crosses every line and ruins me.
The image of her naked body in my mind reminds me that I still want her.
But now I want it all.
All of her.