Chapter Eleven #2
“Keep going, love. I’m so close. You’re so beautiful.
” He dips his head and sucks one of nipples into his mouth, lavishing it, swirling, and biting.
“Going to push a little more in but just a little okay? I won’t break you, and even if I did, it wouldn’t matter.
You’re mine to break. You’re still perfect to me.
Fuck you’re so insanely sexy. I love you like this, a whimpering mess for my cock to fuck you, to ruin you. Just a little more, okay?”
I nod. Yes please, please, more.
There’s a small stretch; I feel a little fuller but it feels amazing.
“Fuck you’re so fucking tight.” He orgasms with a groan inside of me, I can feel him pulsating with each hitch of his breath in my ear. I love it. Love these imaginary moments where I’m with the man of my literal dreams. The man that cared for me and watched over me during my weakest moments.
My dreams are becoming more and more vivid, which I know is adding onto my delusions because it’s so real, too real and surreal.
When he’s done, he cleans me up with facial tissues I keep on my nightstand.
“Maybe I broke you a little. But not much. You’re only bleeding a little bit.
But this belongs to me, you know that don’t you, Raven?
Me and only me. Your virginity is mine.”
It’s the next part of my dreams that I adore, because after he cleans me up, he slides into bed with me, and he pulls me half on him, he always tucks the tip of his dick inside of me.
I’m not as full of him as I wish to be, but I take what I can get as he pets my hair, praising me all over again in hushed tones.
I inhale his scent of cedar and spice and cigar, letting it settle into my bones, my skin, my very essence.
As I fall deeper into sleep, Jonas’ smiling face pops into my head. A thrum of guilt eats at me as I let thoughts of him drift in and out, while I dream I’m sleeping completely naked in another man’s arms…
Chase is right. I should leave Jonas alone.
______
I wake up close to noon, sans clothes, a throbbing between my legs. When I go to the bathroom to relieve myself, there’s a dull ache. When I wipe, there’s just a drop of blood along with what I think is discharge. But the scent is… different.
My brows knit together, and I gnaw on my bottom lip, feeling more confused than ever before.
I throw on some panties, my favorite Yo-Yo Ma tee then sweep my room, looking for any discrepancies.
Nothing is out of order or out of place.
I go to the window, the one I had to latch shut during last night’s storm due to the howling wind. .. only to find it unlatched.
My blood runs cold, sweat now on my forehead, my hands go clammy as I run a hand through my hair.
How?
I think back to my dreams, think of how Doctor Archer has been in charge of my medication list for the better part of four years…
how he himself, put me on birth control because he knew there were sometimes incidents in the institution.
Incidents that sometimes ended up in unwanted and unplanned pregnancies.
And since I wouldn’t speak, I probably wouldn’t tell anyone just like I never told the staff or nurses when I would be attacked by other patients.
They never noticed unless I was left bleeding… or they watched the cameras. And the days Archer was there, it seemed orderlies came a lot quicker than usual.
My eye in the sky…
He had me fitted for the arm implant he inserted himself so fucking tenderly, looking longingly into my eyes, numbing my arm, pressing down and rubbing it with his thumb to make the lidocaine spread under the muscle.
“ You’re doing so good, Raven. I know this is uncomfortable, but it’s for your own good.
We won’t have to do this again for another three years. ”
But this was impossible. Wasn’t it? He was back at Lorne Wood. I was almost a hundred miles away.
My eye in the sky… I look up at the smoke detector in my room. A shiver shoots through me.
Damon’s here . He has to be. I didn’t make myself bleed… but why hasn’t he shown his face?
Three loud knocks take me from thoughts, I blink rapidly.
Jonas.
Brunch .
Fuck.
I quickly open the door and he kisses me when he strides inside my room. “What’s wrong?”
How does he always know? What can I say? What can I do? How do I get out of going to brunch with him? I can’t go to brunch with him! I need to figure out what’s going on. I need to log into the student portal and see if he’s on campus.
Why would he follow me here?
Jonas looks around my room, now in disarray. “Oh, Baby, did you get your period?”
I deadpan and then blink up at him. He points to the bed. There. A very small drop of blood. My blood. WHAT THE FUCK! “Maybe I broke you a little bit. But not much. You’re only bleeding a little bit. But this belongs to me, you know that don’t you, Raven?”
I grimace at the giant football player in my room and he chuckles.
“Baby, I play football. It’s gonna take more than a little blood to scare me away.
Besides, it’s natural. You aren’t contagious or a zombie.
Also, my sister and my mom would kill me if they found out I treated you like shit over something you have no power over.
So, how’s this; go shower, get dressed, and I’ll change your sheets out and wash them?
I’ll order some food, you look like a woman of culture so I’m thinking chicken Tandoori, some samosas, Tikka- mildly spicy - maybe some chocolate, and we can stay in? Do you have Netflix?”
I blink, watching him slightly unravel, my heart bursting, watching him trying to figure out what I would like. Little does he know; I like everything he’s just said. Including the mildly spicy.
I pull him to me, biting my lower lip at him.
“Have you ever watched Supernatural ?”
I blink again and nod excitedly. Of course I have. It’s my favorite show. I’ve watched every episode at least six times.
“Alright. That settles it, then. I’m on the last season.
We’re staying in and pigging out and taking a big, fat nap.
Now, go shower. Do you have a heating pad?
Never mind. Do your thing. I’ll go get mine.
Just give me the key to your room so I can get back in if you’re still showering when I come back. ”
Suddenly, finding out what’s going on doesn’t seem like a top priority. This, Jonas , feels like a top priority. I point to my key hook by the door.
He gives me that panty melting smile. “Perfect.” Is all he says before he starts pulling my sheets off the queen-size bed in the corner of the room and I go into my bathroom.
Hours later he pauses the show during one of Dean Winchester's epic smolders. The takeout boxes are almost empty, I've devoured half a chocolate bar, and there’s empty Snapple bottles on either side of us. “Can I ask you something?”
I face the gorgeous man beside me and blink.
“What is Harrington having you do for the debates?”
This is one of those things I have to show him. I lean over and grab my backpack from the floor, pulling out my notebook and the books on Kemper. I show him the rough draft of my argument.
“He’s having you turn it in?”
I blink.
“My older sister had him three years ago when she was a senior. She loved him. I was really excited to take his class. She told me he’s a hardass but that I’ll learn a lot.
If you turn this in, handwritten, make sure you also type one up and put it in his inbox.
He has a complex. Hates the rich or something.
Don’t give him any reason to be a dick to you.
He failed a lot of people and he doesn't bend. Okay?”
I nod.
“Can we makeout now?” He grins.
So that’s how I spend my second Saturday night back at Rayne-Moore University – entangled in Jonas' arms, my favorite show in the background, until we fall asleep.
It's the first night, since being here, that I don’t dream of Damon Archer.
Instead, I dream of my faceless shadow, the one that’s always near, watching me sleep from the dark corner of my dorm room. Glaring, not at me, but the man beside me.