30. Penelope #2
“I’m still no further in trying to find the one who bullied my sister and made her jump.”
His grip on the glass tightens. “We already roughed up Nathan. You want me to kill him instead?”
I shake my head. “I don’t think he did it. It sounded like the truth when he said someone told him to do it.”
“I can cut off more fingers to make him talk,” he says. “How many fingers do you think it’ll take? Two? Four?”
He takes another casual sip like it’s the simplest thing in the world for him to torture people.
But I’m not surprised. I knew what I was getting myself into when I came to this university, to this frat house, to these boys …
“I don’t think he’ll talk. Whoever made him do it probably threatened him with death,” I say. “Why else would he protect the guy?”
Felix’s nostrils flare as he stares at the wall, his face growing darker with every passing second.
“I’m still no closer to finding out the truth, though. And I paid a heavy price with my face on those fucking posters.”
“You knew the price was high,” he says, his voice sharp, murderous.
Felix gets up and grabs one of the cues in the pool table, then lines up all the balls and shoots.
One shot is enough for him to put at least five balls in a corner.
Impressive.
“I need you to do more,” I say.
His eyes focus on me briefly before making another shot.
All of them disappeared into the holes.
Fuck, he’s really good.
“More?” His eyes narrow as he goes to grab the balls again and places them onto the table. “And have you ever thought about what this could cost me?”
I take in a breath. “I’m willing to pay the price.”
His eyes flicker with greed. “All right.” He holds out the stick to me, waiting. “Go on. Grab it.”
I finally cave and take it from him. When I turn around, he’s right there near my ass, feeling me up. And it’s so damn hard to focus on one of the balls let alone all of them as I struggle to place the cue without shivering.
But I’m still devoted to ignoring him as I hold the cue in front of the ball and shoot.
Right then, his finger jabs up my ass.
I miss. By a long shot.
And I jolt up and down from the sudden finger thrust.
“What the fuck was that?” I gasp.
His brow rises. “Have you played before?”
“Yes,” I reply.
“Doesn’t look like it.”
I grimace. “Not with a finger shoved up my ass. Of course, I’d fuck up.”
A filthy smirk forms on his lips. I don’t see that smile often, and I get the feeling he’s showing it more and more when he’s around me. And I have to admit, it looks good on him.
He leans in and grabs me by my ass, pulling me closer. “You should try playing with something else shoved up your ass.”
My eyes widen. “What?”
Did he actually say that out loud?
Before I can ask, he walks off to a cabinet in the back, only to return with a strange bottle and a sparkly diamond-looking butt plug.
Oh God.
“Bend over,” he says, his voice raspy, raw.
And I swallow back the lump in my throat. “You’ve got to be kidding me, right?”
He holds it up in front of my face as his hand lands on my thigh, possessively squeezing my flesh. “I don’t do jokes. I thought you knew that by now.”
“So what then?”
His eyes go half mast. “I do you.”
My cheeks heat, but I push back the embarrassment. “I’m not some—”
He plants a finger on my mouth. “Toy. Mine.” He hisses into my ear, “Now bend.”
He spins me around and flops me down onto the table with ease.
“I didn’t—”
He lifts my dress. “You agreed to our terms.” He bends over me, his bulge pressing against my ass as he whispers, “Now do you want to do it the easy way, or the hard way?” He holds up a bottle of lube.
I shudder at the thought. I’ve done some ass things before with a previous boyfriend, but I never went this far.
“Use your words.” His voice is commanding. Obsessive, almost.
“Easy.”
“Then beg for it,” he groans.
It takes every ounce of self-control not to pummel him in the face as I grit, “Please.”
“Good girl,” he says with a low voice, and I hate it.
I hate how it fucking makes my pussy thump.
He rips down my panties and slathers on the cold lube, rubbing it out before positioning the diamond plug against my ass.
“This is going to hurt …” he says, pressing the palm of his hand on my ass. “And I’m going to enjoy every second of it.”
I yelp when he pushes it in, slowly at first, but faster the farther he gets in. My nails dig into the pool table, tears staining my eyes, but I force them to stay at bay.
I’m not crying for this fucker.
I know he loves my tears.
“Such a good fucking slut for me,” he murmurs as he plops it in until the base. Then he slaps my ass, and it reverberates everywhere. God, that thing enhances everything.
“You like to humiliate me, don’t you?” I retort as I lie here on this pool table with his hands still claiming my body like he owns it.
“No,” he says as he pulls me up from the table and props me up against it, eyes boring into mine. “I live for it.”
“Why? Why do you hate me so fucking much?” I growl.
“Hate?” His eyes narrow as he leans in so close I can feel his breath on my skin. “No, Pen, this is possession.” He presses himself up against me, growing hard against my dress while his hands are all over my ass. “You like being told what to do, don’t you? You’re just like your sister.”
My eyes widen and flicker with interest. “Why are you pulling her into this? It almost sounds like you know more about her than you’re letting on.”
“She was a friend,” he says.
Did she involve herself in these fuckers’ business?
If she was truly their friend, she must’ve known how fucked up they were, right?
“My sister would never—”
“Maybe you didn’t know your sister as well as you believe,” he says, and he pulls away again.
But I can still feel his handprint on my ass.
“Now play.”
My nostrils flare, anger bubbling to the surface.
Not just because I know he’s fucking hiding something from me about my sister.
But also because of how lusty he just made me feel.
I lift my panties back up and pat down my dress, then turn around to grab the cue and focus on the game.
He wants me to play? I’ll play.
I put the cue near the balls. “If she was such a good friend, why did you let her die? You were there too. You did nothing to stop her from jumping.”
Right when I shoot, he says, “Neither did you.”
I miss again.
“I saw you at the edge, standing there while her body flew down.” Enraged, I turn around, but he’s right there in front of me, blocking the way out. “You suspected us. But has it ever occurred to you we might suspect you?”