Chapter 8
HARPER
Iwake up disoriented, unsure where I am at first. I try and sit up, but I’m tugged backward against a chest. What the— I guess last night wasn’t a nightmare.
Part of me had hoped to wake up this morning and realize yesterday was just my imagination going wild.
But apparently, this is my reality. Moving carefully, trying not to wake him, I scoot away.
The sheets are softer than I expected them to be beneath my fingers.
I don’t remember anything happening last night.
Warren took a shower, and I changed but fell asleep before he was finished.
So, I’m guessing he just let me be and fell asleep with me. Who knew he could make choices that didn’t revolve around being an asshole?
“Where do you think you’re going?” Warren’s raspy voice fills the room. It has the effect of ice water being poured over my body. Involuntarily, I shiver, and my nipples harden against the thin fabric of my… well, his shirt.
“Getting away from you.” I try and roll away, but instead, I end up on my back, with him hovering above me. Something thick and hard presses against my thigh, and my lips part on a gasp. Morning-wood. I don’t remember it being that hard when it was in my mouth.
“Without helping me relieve this massive hard-on? I think not.” His chocolate brown eyes are still filled with sleep, but beneath that, there is a fire burning.
The flames grow with each second, threatening to burn me if I get too close.
And yet, I want to get close. I want to be burnt.
I want to see him melt beneath my touch.
I want to see if I have the same effect on him as he does on me.
“I’m not fucking you or giving you a blow job. But I’ll beat you off.”
Warren blinks, shock overtaking his features, and after a second, he talks, “Wait, you’re serious?” He rolls off me, landing on the mattress with a huff.
I cock a brow. “Can’t handle being at my mercy?”
His lips curve into a sinister smirk, “Show me your worst, baby. I like it hard and fast, think you can handle it?”
I want to roll my eyes. I’ve never given a handjob myself, but I have watched enough porn to know how it works.
Matter of fact, I’m a little excited to try it out.
Shoving up into a sitting position, I let my gaze wander over his perfect body.
It’s a shame such a horrible monster gets to look this good.
Like a Greek god, his entire body is cut from stone, each muscle, each dip, and plane from his shoulders, down his chest, and over his abs, that lead down to a well-defined v. He’s perfect all over, and it’s disgusting, because someone as cruel as him, shouldn’t get to look like this.
“Like the view?” He winks, and I feel my cheeks heating. Stupid hormones.
“The view is nice. The person attached to it, not so much.” I reach for his cock, not even sure why I’m doing this. I shouldn’t want to touch him, not after all that he’s done to me, but I can’t deny myself this one chance to watch him break.
He gives me a bored expression. “Stop talking and get on with the handjob, or I’ll find another use for your mouth.
” I know it’s not an idle threat. He’s made it before and followed through.
As soon as my hand makes contact with the silky skin, he hisses.
I squeeze the flesh, reveling in the touch of his smooth length.
Then, I start to move, up and down, up and down.
His length moves through my hand easily, and after a few strokes, I peer up at him.
His eyes are soft, his normally rough, hardened features are relaxed, and I swear, he looks ten times more handsome in this state.
“Fuck, your hand feels so good.”
I chew on my bottom lip, feeling my own arousal start to pool in my core. Warmth fills every pore on my body as I watch the mushroom head disappear and pop back up with each stroke. Warren starts to pant, his perfect chest rising and falling faster and faster.
“Squeeze me, squeeze my cock like your pussy will.” I don’t bother to correct him, don’t bother telling him that my pussy won’t do anything for his cock.
I’m too caught up in what’s going on, the way he melts into the mattress, practically begging me to keep going.
Power surges through me, and I squeeze him tighter.
“Fuck me, shit, keep doing that, and I’m going to come…”
“Isn’t that the point?” I release my lip and whisper.
A second later, he arches his hips and tips his head back into the pillows.
“Shit, shit. I’m coming…” My heart rate picks up, and my stomach clenches.
Heat bubbles over inside of my core, and I want him.
I want him to take the ache away. I want my bully, the monster, to ease my pain.
One last stroke, and he erupts. Sticky, white cum leaves his tip in quick thick ropes, and I stare at them, becoming mesmerized by them.
My strokes become softer as he calms down from his release. When the last drops of his release bead the tip of his cock, and his whole body shutters, I pull my hand away. At the loss of touch, a coldness sweeps over me.
“I can’t believe I thought you were honest when you told me you wanted to wait…” He shakes his head, and in a flash, I’m reminded of all the times he wanted to have sex, and I turned him down.
He wanted me so badly, as badly as I wanted him, but I just wasn’t ready.
I was insecure and scared, he was confident and didn’t have a worry in the world.
It wasn’t that I didn’t want him to be my first, it was just I wasn’t ready yet.
I was afraid. Of the pain, of what would happen to us afterward.
“Of course, that was all a lie. You were ready, all right. You just didn’t want it to be me.”
Why does he keep saying these things? Like missing puzzle pieces, his behavior makes no sense to me. Why does he keep assuming that I’m experienced, that I’m some chick that fucks any guy that looks her way?
“I don’t understand… I’ve never…” In a second flat, he goes from being relaxed and calm to the same horrid man he was before. A dark mask covers his face, taking the man I fell in love with when I was a teenager away.
“Shut your fucking mouth.” He slams his huge hand over my mouth and shoves me onto the mattress on my back.
Like a deer caught in the headlights of a moving car, I peer up at him.
He looks like an animal protecting its meal.
His eyes are so dark, no light can be seen in them.
I whimper underneath his hand but don’t dare move.
He looks as if he would snap my neck in a second if I did. Using his other hand, he trails it up my thigh, his nails scraping against my skin. Both pain and pleasure erupt inside me.
“I can’t believe I used to want you, used to love you…” he laughs bitterly.
When he makes it to the boxers I’m wearing, he dips a finger into the waistband and pulls them down my legs. This strange feeling consumes me, this is wrong, and I shouldn’t want this, but I do. I slightly part my legs, giving him a silent invite.
Without a care in the world, he enters me, his thick fingers sliding into me with ease.
The cruelness in his eyes makes my heart crack right down the middle, “I knew you’d be wet for me. This is your thing. You like it when I take from you.”
I shake my head, trying to deny it, but there’s no point. He wouldn’t believe me anyway, not with the way my body is reacting to him right now. I can feel the pleasure building, his strokes growing faster, each dip inside, bringing me closer to the finale.
“Fuck, I have to taste your lips,” he purrs and pulls back his hand.
I suck a precious breath of air into my lungs, but he steals it with his kiss in the next moment.
There is so much raw anger, pain, and hate in that kiss that for a moment, I think I might drown in the emotions.
There is no saving us. Warren and I, we’re on a roller coaster, headed down the hill and off the tracks.
With his lips on mine and his fingers working delicious magic on my pussy, I start to lift my hips, meeting his strokes, wanting him deeper, needing more.
“Fuck, yes, come on my hand, cream all over my fingers.” He encourages me with his filthy mouth, whispering against my swollen lips.
Like a waterfall gushing water over the cliff’s edge, I fall apart, clenching down on his finger while I do.
My eyes drift closed, and my body shakes with tremors of pleasure.
My descent back to planet Earth is a slow one, and when I open my eyes, I find Warren staring at me. A look very similar to my own from earlier on his face now. He’s studying me like I’m something he can fix.
“You look so beautiful when you come, it’s a shame others get to see you like that.”
I open my mouth to say something, anything, but Warren pins me with a stare that leaves me completely frozen. It’s dark, cruel, and menacing. Above all, it scares me.
“Don’t you dare open your mouth to lie to me again. I don’t want to fucking hear it. Keep your lips shut. One peep and I’ll pull the rug out from underneath you. I’ll make you disappear from this place as fast as you reappeared. Do you understand?”
Nodding my head, I watch in complete shock as he gets up and walks away from me. Like I didn’t just give him a handjob. Like he didn’t just make me come.
After today, I’m more confused than I’ve ever been.
What does Warren think I did, and how do I fix this? Do I even want to at this point? This is so intense, he is intense.
“Put this on,” he throws some sweatpants and a thick sweater at me, followed by a pair of socks. It’s a little overkill, but I gladly oblige, dressing in the warm, soft fabric. I watch him pull some shorts and a shirt on, enjoying the view much more than I should.
“Come on, let’s get something to eat,” he tells me while opening the door.
I get up from the bed and follow him through his house like a lost puppy.
The place is huge, bigger than any house I’ve ever lived in, or ever will.
Honestly, I’ve only been inside one house that was bigger than this one, and that’s the house Warren grew up in.
When we get closer to what I assume is the kitchen, I start to hear voices. Two guys talking about a football game that’s coming up this weekend.
“Are those your roommates,” I ask before we enter the room. I know one of them has to be the guy from last night, the one screwing that chick on the couch right out in the open.
“Yes. Don’t talk to them. Just be quiet. Be seen, and not heard,” he orders me like I’m his servant or something. Asshole.
As soon as we walk into the spacious kitchen, that has marble and state of the art appliances, I’m glad Warren gave me clothes to cover every inch of flesh because the moment his roommates, Cameron and Easton, see me, they look at me like I grew a second head.
Their stares are so weird, it makes me feel exposed like they can see me even through the thick clothing.
“Stop staring at her,” Warren growls and walks to the fridge. He opens it and looks around inside.
“Hey, Harper,” Easton greets me, once he recovers from the initial shock of me being here. Before I can reply, Warren pops his head out of the fridge and cuts in.
“Don’t fucking talk to her either. Harper, sit down and wait for your food,” he talks down to me like I’m a misbehaving child. I’m close to snapping and having a full-blown tantrum.
“Jesus, why are you being such a dick?” Cameron smirks as if knowing what he says is only going to piss his friend off more. Warren’s face tenses, his jaw turning to stone. He looks like he might explode from the anger alone or at least punch through the wall.
Being the bigger person and not wanting him to actually start a fistfight with his roommates over looking or talking to me, I do what he says and take a seat at the table. I turn away from the guys and look out of the window, which seems to calm Warren a little.
After a few moments, I sneak a glance over at Warren and notice the tense look in his eyes seems to be dissipating.
He scrambles eggs in a pan, not even paying his roommates a lick of attention.
“We’re gonna head out,” Cameron announces.
“Finally,” Warren mumbles, just as he places the eggs and some toast on a plate.
Easton winks at me as he walks out, and I give him a tiny wave goodbye when Warren isn’t looking.
Warren takes the seat next to me, placing a plate and a fork in front of me. I grab it and start eating after I mumble, “Thanks.”
We eat in silence until Warren gets up and gets us some orange juice from the fridge, handing it to me, he orders, “Drink.”
“Is that how it’s going to be now? You tell me what to do, and I do it?”
“Yes, I’m glad you finally get it.”
I can’t believe that he thinks this is going to work. Does he really think I’m going to let him treat me like this? Then again, what choice do I have? It’s this or lose my scholarship and a chance of a good life.
My head feels like it’s about to explode. I just need space and time to think, even if it’s just for a few hours. I need to be alone, away from him, and I will be. He can’t be with me every second of the day. The first chance I get, I’ll be gone. I need to go somewhere he won’t find me.