Chapter 12
Donavan
Agitation creeps over every inch of my body. It pulls at my skin, making it too tight to handle at times. If I thought walking away would make it abate, I’d head right for the door and never look back.
I’ve stayed away for a month, but every second I was gone, my mind was still right here with her.
The way she’s acting right now. The way her skirt is inching up her thighs with every dip of her hips as she sways to the music is drawing me closer and closer to the edge of my sanity.
She hasn’t behaved. She hasn’t changed the way she acts. She’s lucky to still be alive. Some fucking stars must’ve lined up to keep her in Texas because the attention she’s drawing to herself right now would put her right in the crosshairs of any trafficker who caught a glimpse of her.
She’s a fucking danger to herself.
Another man steps up to her, puts his hands on her hips and a predatory smile on his face as her head rolls on her shoulders.
Since I was here last, shoving the asshole away from her after she left a frat party, she’s managed to get a fake ID.
I watched her use the motherfucker to get into the off-campus party.
I doubt they’d make her leave if she didn’t have one.
She’s too pretty, that teasing look she’s mastered on her face, too tempting, to tell her to walk away.
I’ve seen it in every guy’s eyes who has approached her tonight. They all have it in their heads that they’ll be the one to get lucky. They’re going to be the one with whatever it is she’s looking for, who will end up with her on her back or on her knees.
This newest guy gets one song, and when the beat changes, she waves him away, finding him lacking. His jaw flexes, his barely controlled anger at her rejection evident in the way his hands clench when he steps back. His darting eyes tell me that if he didn’t have witnesses, she’d be in trouble.
I’m all for women having the right to say no and using that word to stop anything at any point in time, but as a man, I can also understand the frustration.
The temptation of her body will make any man jealous and irate when she’s fine with rolling that lithe body against his for three minutes only to become indifferent the next.
Watching her act this way wouldn’t enrage me so much if I knew she was only doing it to force my hand, but she has no clue that I’m here tonight. I’ve kept to the shadows, making sure not to draw attention to myself. I wanted to see how she’s been acting when I’m not around.
I both hate and crave it all at once. If she were being a good girl, she’d be in her dorm room, and all I could do is stare up at her window with the hope that I’d catch a glimpse of her through the gauzy curtains.
The way she’s acting now puts nearly every inch of her on display.
I’m hard as a fucking rock and pissed beyond measure.
She’s both giving me exactly what I want and doing exactly what I’ve instructed her not to do.
Yet another guy shimmies up to her, and she doesn’t even bother to open her eyes as she smiles when he drops his hands to her hips.
The list of motherfuckers I should kill tonight just continues to grow.
The fucked-up part is she doesn’t even care who’s touching her.
It could be that smarmy bastard that I know had intentions of hurting her from the last time and she’d just let the motherfucker touch her.
This guy takes it a step further than anyone else I’ve seen tonight by running his hand up her arm and caressing the side of her face. Her nose scrunches with the softness and she pulls her face away.
My girl doesn’t want it soft and gentle. What she craves is darker, more sinister.
She craves me.
I ignore the woman trying to get my attention as I circle the group of people dancing in the middle of the room, grateful I never went to college. The stench of sweaty bodies, booze, and vomit is enough to make me sick to my stomach.
When the gentle-touch guy is shoved away, I make sure to shoulder check him as he walks past me.
He’s pissed, practically simmering with rage, but as I look down at him, he decides very quickly I’m not the one to take his anger out on.
There’s a very real chance that every man who has been shoved away by her tonight will find someone else to take that aggression out on, but I’m not responsible for how they deal with their anger issues.
Honestly, neither is she. She shouldn’t cave to pressure and take something from someone she doesn’t want just because of how they’d choose to react if she didn’t. That would be toxic on so many levels.
At the same time, I know my need for her, this draw I can’t seem to control, is also dysfunctional. Then again, I haven’t been normal in a very long time.
Her lip twitches when I step in closer to her, and for a moment, I don’t know if it’s going to be a smile or a sneer. Maybe it’s the alcohol in her blood, but she doesn’t seem like she knows either.
With a rough hand, I pull her closer, locking her in place. I’ll be damned if I’m going to act like one of these college boys and fucking dance with her. She wiggles enough to keep her hips moving, a slow smile spreading across her face while keeping her eyes closed.
When her teeth dig into her lower lip, I realize she’s living some kind of fantasy behind her eyelids. Her mouth drops open when I grip a handful of her hair in my fist. I swear she makes a sound, maybe a dick-hardening whimper, but it gets lost with the music.
Her hands find my biceps, just resting on them at first, but then she moves them, her thumbs sweeping back and forth. Her eyes widen the second she slits them open.
I offer her a lethal sneer, pulling her head back even harder to reveal the perfect column of her throat. I’m torn between biting it and tracing the pounding pulse point with my tongue.
“I missed you,” she says, and I read her lips more than actually hear her.
It’s the very same thing she said last time, and the unprompted confession affects me in a way I should be immune against. It feels like a vulnerability, like I’ve offered her some sort of control over me, and that’s reason enough to hate this girl.
“Let’s go,” I growl, grabbing her arm and pulling her off the dance floor.
“Where are you taking me?” she asks, more unsure on her feet as we descend the front steps of the house than I originally thought she was.
“Home,” I grunt, slowing down enough that she isn’t struggling to keep up. I vow to make it the only fucking concession I’ll offer her.
The March days have gotten warmer, but the temps are still dipping into the forties at night, but I know the shiver she just felt that caused her to run her hands over her bare arms won’t stop her from leaving her dorm tomorrow night in such a small amount of clothing.
The woman has no sense of self-preservation, and above anything else, it’s what rubs my ass raw.
I don’t release her arm the entire way back to her dorm, and she doesn’t attempt to pull from my grip either.
“Where have you been?”
I lock my eyes ahead of me. I answer to no one, especially petulant little girls.
“In the shadows?” she guesses.
I’m gone from here far too often to keep letting her think I’m watching her every night. If she’s getting that sixth sense that someone is watching her still, then she’s responding to someone else. I’ve been gone for weeks.
“I haven’t been back here since the last time you saw me.”
She freezes, her eyes widening, the fear so real in them that I halt all my movements.
“But last night—” she begins.
“Last night, I was in Mexico.”
She searches my face, her head shaking.
“You chased me. Last night, you chased me.”
I step in close, my anger barely contained. “Last night, I was in Mexico.”
The tremble in her body begins right in the center of her, but it doesn’t take long before it’s radiating into her extremities. I feel the vibration through my palm.
“Pl-please,” she begs on a swallow. “Tell me you’re joking.”
“I don’t fucking joke,” I growl, my chest starting to heave at the very real possibility that someone might have gotten close enough to hurt her last night. “Let’s go.”
The vulnerability in her eyes as she darts them all around gets me moving again. What might’ve been a close call could actually serve me the way I need it to. If she’s scared and realizing I’m not here all the time, maybe she’ll curb her irresponsible behaviors.
The attendant isn’t manning the front desk when she keys in her code to her dorm building, and as much as I want to shove her toward the stairs, I find myself walking in the direction with her.
“My roommate went home for the weekend,” she says as she pushes her key into the lock.
I know what her tone is suggesting. As much as my body craves everything she’s offering and more, it also serves to piss me off because there isn’t a hint of the fear I heard in her voice only moments ago.
The second the door closes and we’re alone inside her room, she turns to me, lifting up on her toes and attempting to press her lips to mine.
I grip her jaw, the skin of her face around my fingers turning white from the pressure.
“I don’t fucking kiss whores,” I growl.
The truth is, I don’t kiss anyone. The intimacy of it makes my fucking skin crawl more than watching her dance earlier tonight.
Her eyes search mine, and instead of her figuring out anything about me, I shove her to the floor at my feet.
She whimpers in pain when her knees hit the hard floor, but at least she’s smart enough not to complain. Before I can reach down to unzip my jeans, her hands are trailing up my fucking thighs.
I should walk out right now and never look back.
Her eagerness to have me in her mouth should be all the warning I need that this woman will never fucking learn.
She’ll be a danger to herself until the day she fucking dies, and there’s no amount of punishment I can mete out that will change it. I’m wasting both of our time.
I just can’t seem to walk away. If the girl wants to be used, there’s no sense in me walking away with aching balls.
The tip of my cock is already leaking with just the sight of her licking her lips in preparation, but I don’t offer it to her immediately.
She swallows, her eyes locked on my working hand as I pull up on my length, the sizzle of arousal stronger than it was the night I commanded that she strip for me in that filthy motel room.
“Please,” she whispers, her mouth open and empty.
My molars grind together as I brush the head against her lips.
I pull back just in time to miss the swipe of her tongue. It’s the only thing that keeps me in control.
“Men will abuse you,” I warn.
Her eyes flash with need.
“But that’s what you want, isn’t it?”
Her attention is locked on my cock, and just knowing it has heat settling in my nuts.
“Taste it,” I growl as another bead of precum forms at the tip.
With perfection I’ve only ever dreamed about, she extends her tongue only enough for the sample offered there.
My legs tremble, my control slipping by the second.
A glimmer of knowing pride in her eyes forces my hand, and in the next breath, I shove my cock past her lips.
She shifts her weight on her knees, trying to adjust to the intrusion, but I move too quickly, activating her gag reflex before she can prevent it.
I pull back only long enough for her to catch her breath before gagging her again. Her fingers dig into my thighs. I know tomorrow I’ll revel in the marks she’s sure to leave behind, but tonight, I can only focus on the heat of her throat.
She doesn’t try to push me away. She’s accommodating in a way that enrages me, threatening to activate that seriously sinister side of me, the parts I know better than to feed because they’re nearly impossible to cage once they’re free.
My balls draw up. I hate to pull back, but the memory of her tight cunt forces my hand.
In the next breath, I drag her to standing and press her face into her closed door.
After flipping her flimsy fucking skirt up, I take a punishing handful of her ass cheek before ripping her panties from her body. A whimper and a moan tangle together. I know I’ll struggle to forget the sound for the rest of my fucking life.
She stays locked in place, exactly where I leave her, as I pull a condom from my pocket, the threat of coming only increasing as I roll it down my cock.
With one hand on the back of her neck and the other on her hip, I force her into the perfect angle before shoving inside of her. The tortured scream she doesn’t even attempt to hold back is loud enough to wake the entire floor, but I’m relentless as I pull back and slam into her again.
The clench of her cunt around my cock is damn near unbearable. It isn’t that she wasn’t ready because she’s slicker than she was the first night at the motel.
“Fuck,” I hiss, squeezing my eyes closed as if it has the power to stave off the threatening orgasm.
I’d fucking last longer if her body wasn’t begging for more. If she was even just a little fearful. If she wasn’t shifting her ass back to meet my thrusts, I might have better control.
“Stay still,” I demand, both my hands clenching her hips.
She disobeys, just like I knew she would. Much like me, she’s no longer in control of her own body.
“Coming!” she screams the second her body tightens even further.
The utter perfection of it is haunting, life-altering, but I grind my teeth and power through it, my own orgasm only three breaths behind hers.
Her breath is ragged when I pull free from her. I want to bathe in the way she’s finding it difficult to get it under control.
Her eyes soften when I pull her away from the door, and I hate it.
Instead of warning her again, I open the door and walk out, nearly running into another girl out in the hall as I’m tucking my dick away.
I know I’m the one who sought her out, but I’ll be damned if I do it again.
Alani Warren is on her own from now on.