Chapter 11
SHANE
I watch as the door to my room closes behind Jace, and I blink a few times as the reality of what just happened hits, and this weird sense of unease and satisfaction washes over me.
It’s not just the fact that we hooked up again that’s tripping me up; it’s how I let him do all those things to me.
He might be stronger than me, and have way better grappling skills, but I could have said no. I could have at least tried to stop him instead of just putting up some token resistance while my body wasn’t just asking for him to own me, but begging for it.
He has the strength and the skill, and obviously has the scruples to be a predator, but it’s like he said before: he doesn’t have to be one. Maybe he gets off on force and coercion, but from what I’ve seen, it’s the push and pull, and eventual surrender that really gets him hot.
The same as it does for me.
A little tingle of residual pleasure moves through me, and I absently rub my hand over my cock.
Jace wasn’t lying; having your prostate played with while getting your dick sucked is a game changer.
I’ve never come so hard in my life, and his mouth really is magical.
I’ve gotten a lot of head in my life, and a good amount of it has been from women who know what they’re doing, but nothing they did even comes close to Jace’s skills.
He didn’t just give me pleasure; it was like he had a direct link to my thoughts and knew exactly what to do to give me the most pleasure possible. And the rough way he handled me only made me want more, even though I knew I shouldn’t.
All of that is messed up enough, but what the ever-loving fuck is wrong with me that I not only let him use a knife like that, but that I enjoyed every damn second of it?
Even in my pleasure-drunk state, a part of me knew the knife wasn’t a real threat. Jace is crazy, and he’s obviously way freakier than I could have ever guessed, but I doubt he would have actually forced me if I legit tried to stop him.
But the fear that he could have hurt me or forced me into doing whatever he wanted made every touch that much more incredible, and I found myself wanting more when it should have made me fight and scream bloody murder until he got the fuck off me.
Instead I lay there with my heart racing and my cock throbbing as the most intense feeling of fear wrapped up in a nearly overwhelming sensation of desire turned me into a needy, compliant mess under him.
It’s not a secret around the house that Jace sometimes carries a knife on him, and he’s been known to pull it out to intimidate people or defuse situations, but I’ve never actually seen him with one until now.
Why the hell was watching him spin it around like a serial killer so damn hot? And why the fuck did him literally fucking me with it feel so good?
The cold metal and hard edge should have felt wrong and unnatural, but instead it was amazing. And it wasn’t just the actual sensations that made it so damn addictive.
The fear of what he could do, the shock that any of it was happening, and the threat that Jace could literally do anything to me in that moment were just as hot as knowing he had full control over me and I was completely at his mercy.
It allowed me to shut down my brain and just feel, and it gave me permission to give in to the fucked-up desires that I never even knew were there.
But are those kinks or desires or whatever actually things I’d be into with someone other than him?
Even the thought of letting anyone else have that kind of control over me makes my skin crawl, but not with Jace.
My cheeks flush hot as I look down at the flash drive in my hand.
There’s no way he isn’t judging the hell out of me right now, and all of this is my fault.
I started things again when I didn’t shove him right out of my room and instead slammed him into the wall. I could have stopped him at any point, or at least tried to, but I didn’t.
He was the aggressor, but I was a willing participant, and he didn’t even tell me to suck his dick. I did that on my own.
My mouth waters, and I unconsciously lick my lips at the memories of him filling my mouth.
He wasn’t wrong when he said I’ve been thinking about what it would be like to blow him, and I’ll never admit this to anyone, but I’ve been thinking about that almost as much as I’ve thought about him putting his mouth on me.
Sucking him off was beyond hot, and now that I know just how much I enjoy feeling his girth stretching my lips and his length sliding against my tongue, there’s no way I can deny that I’m into guys.
Or at least into Jace.
Letting him blow me or frotting against him until we both come, even jerking him off, could be explained away as an experiment or just getting swept up in the moment. But choosing to put my mouth on him and loving every second of it is an entirely different story.
Shoving those thoughts out of my head, I go over to my desk, then flip open my laptop and type in my password to start it.
When it’s ready, I slip the drive into one of the USB ports. A window opens on my screen, and in it is a single folder with my name on it.
I click on it, and the window fills with thumbnails. They’re too small to make out many details, and they all have long, numerical file names that don’t make any sense, but I don’t need to open them to know exactly what they are.
Jace gave me a copy of my blackmail file.
He told me he had been ordered to delete all traces of the file from his computer when he handed it over to the leaders. I’m not at all surprised he kept a copy for himself, but giving this to me is a way bigger deal than it looks on the surface.
He’s given me proof he broke the rules, and knowing how sensitive this situation is, he could get in a fuck ton of trouble if I told anyone about this.
My cursor hovers over the first photo, and I click to open it. It’s a grainy snapshot of me taking a rip off a bong. Not exactly the type of photo that could ruin my life, but not one that my family would want to get out. Quickly, I scroll through the rest of the files.
Like he said, it’s mostly a collection of me being a dumbass and doing shit that I shouldn’t, but there’s really nothing that terrible in here.
I’m twenty-one and away at school. Hooking up with people I shouldn’t and experimenting with drugs and alcohol are rites of passage at Silvercrest. They’re bad, but they could be so much worse considering some of the stuff I’ve gotten up to since I’ve been here.
Some of my anxiety over the file settles, and I exit out of the folder and eject the drive from my computer.
Now I just have to forget about all the fucked-up stuff I let Jace do to me.
My phone pings with a text as I put the flash drive in my drawer and close my laptop.
Paxton: pregaming in 10?
Shane: be there in 15
I need to take a shower so I can wash the scent of sex off me before I meet up with the guys. Then I can get fucked up and forget all about my newfound kinks and the chokehold Jace has on me.