23. Twenty-Three
23
TWENTY-THREE
MILA
I was still tangled in Archer's embrace when the sun came up. He was snoring softly, with one arm behind his head and the other around my waist. I slowly sat up and watched him sleep.
He was beautiful.
An enigma.
A dangerous creature, both tender and cruel, full of love and hunger.
The hunger kept me awake, the pulsing mass between his legs semi-erect and fucking beautiful.
I bit my lip to curb the urge to reach out and stroke the soft skin of his sensitive cock, an indescribable pleasure. I was content to savor the memory of his body pressed against mine, the sensation of his tongue delving into my core, his fingers exploring and touching every inch of my body.
I admired his beauty, taking in the tattoos that covered his body. Some were intricate, others simple, but each one held a story, a memory. My fingers glided over the delicate lines of the hand across his throat and the tortured faces that spread across his collarbone, the flames licking and flickering across his skin. Each one seemed to tell a story—his story, the life he lived—on his skin. They were like a map of his soul, the same way my body was a canvas for his touch, a vessel for his possessiveness. Each tattoo reminded me of the man he was, the man I had fallen for.
He stirred slightly, his hand stealing up to my thigh, gently caressing the curve. His eyes slowly fluttered open, revealing that deep green that held secrets I was dying to unravel. I looked into his eyes, clouded with sleep, and I knew that there was nothing I wouldn't do for this man. And I believed him when he said he would kill for me. He looked at me, a slow smirk playing on his lips.
"Good morning."
"Morning," I murmured, trying to keep the excitement out of my voice. His touch was addictive, and I craved more.
"I'm wondering why that sweet pussy of yours isn’t bouncing up and down on my cock right now."
I blushed at his words, my breathing picking up a notch as heat flooded between my legs. "I have to go to class."
"Boring." His hand slid up my thigh, his fingers brushing the folds of my sex.
I couldn't help but moan softly at his touch. "If you keep touching me like that, I'll never go back to school. I'll stay here in bed all day and night with you."
"You say that like it's a bad thing." His eyes gleamed with mischief, and his voice was thick with lust.
"It's anything but. However, not all of us can not attend class and still pass."
Archer chuckled, sitting up and pulling me close. Our lips met in a slow and passionate kiss, and he ran his hands roughly over my bare back, leaving goosebumps in his wake. "You're right," he murmured against my lips, his voice low and husky. "I guess education is important. Get dressed. We don't want to be late."
"You're actually going today?" I feigned surprise.
"I wouldn't miss watching my girl school all the other students with her intelligence."
I rolled my eyes, but I couldn't help the flush that spread across my cheeks. I pulled away from him, slowly getting out of bed and walking into my closet to grab my clothes, ignoring the lingering sensation of my sore nipples and the ache between my legs. As I entered the bedroom, Archer was already dressed, his tattoos peeking out of his shirt. I grabbed my bag, slid my laptop inside, and followed him out front where his motorcycle was waiting.
I loved being on the back of his bike, my arms wrapped around his tight muscles. He helped me onto the seat, careful with my leg, and then we were off, weaving in and out of traffic, with the wind whistling in my ears. The sound of the engine was like music vibrating through my body, and I felt alive. My heart pounded in my chest thinking about how my life had changed in the past couple of weeks. Archer was a dangerous man, but the way he touched me, the way he claimed me, made me feel alive in a way that I never thought was possible for me.
We pulled up to the school, and I slipped off the bike, my legs shaking from the adrenaline surge. I looked at Archer, who was a sight to behold in his dark leather jacket and sunglasses.
"Come here, baby," he gestured for me to grab his hand.
I intertwined my fingers in his and let him walk me to class. I saw the way girls looked at him—their eyes lit up with desire and envy—and I felt a sense of possessiveness. He was a god among mortals, and my normal everyday existence before him was a blur. Archer's hand tightened around mine, and he whispered in my ear, "I see no one but you."
I leaned into him, feeling the heat of his body against mine and the soft leather of his jacket. We made it to our lit class just as the bell rang. Professor Hazel eyed me curiously as he watched me take a seat, Archer sitting next to me. I pretended not to notice, giving him a small smile and opening my laptop.
Archer's body tensed next to mine. Nothing escaped his watchful eye. A trait that I found endearing and intimidating.
"Good morning, class. I hope you all had a chance to complete your reading of Wuthering Heights by Emily Bront?. Today, we will discuss the characters' motivations and the themes of love, obsession, and revenge in the novel. Does anyone remember the passage where Heathcliff declares his love for Catherine and the lengths he will go to to possess her? Feel free to share your thoughts and insights with the class."
I swallowed hard as I looked around the room to see if anyone would speak. Archer leaned in closer, his warm breath brushing against my ear as he whispered, "Your turn to play the lead, sweetheart. Let them see what you're made of."
I raised my hand, my nerves jangling as his hand found mine and gave it a reassuring squeeze.
"Yes, Mila." Professor Hazel's eyes found mine, and he smiled, almost relieved that it was me who raised my hand.
"Heathcliff's obsession with Catherine is all-consuming. He will do anything to possess her, even if it means becoming a monster in the process. I believe that this theme of obsession is relevant to our own lives. We have things that consume us, whether it's a person, a goal, or an idea. Heathcliff's inability to control his obsession ultimately leads to his downfall. We see the lengths Heathcliff is willing to go to to possess the love of his life, Catherine. His love for her is both beautiful and terrifying. He is so consumed by it that he is willing to commit violence and murder to protect her. And when she dies, he loses himself in his grief."
"Yes, good job," Professor Hazel nodded in appreciation. "Would you agree that the lengths he would go to show his love for her reveal the destructive power of obsession?"
"I believe it depends on the reader's interpretation of love. Personally, I think his love for Catherine is a source of inspiration and hope, as it shows the depths of human emotion and the lengths we will go to to protect the ones we love. His love for her is both his salvation and his downfall. If we are examining the theme of love and obsession, then this story can teach us that love can be the most powerful force in the world. If we aren't careful, it can also be our undoing if not handled with care and respect. I think it's all a matter of balance and control," I finished.
Professor Hazel nodded, looking impressed. "Nicely stated, as always, Miss Grey. Your insights are always thought-provoking. Thank you for sharing."
I smiled back at him, feeling proud of myself. Archer leaned over. "You're so fucking beautiful when you speak." He kissed me lightly on the cheek, his lips lingering briefly before pulling away. "I love when you remind them why they should be in awe of you."
"Thank you," I whispered.
Archer smiled at me, a look of pure adoration in his eyes. "You're welcome." He gave me a light kiss on the lips and then returned to listening to the Professor's lecture.
As the class ended, I packed up my things and was about to leave when Professor Hazel approached me.
"Hey, Mila, I wanted to let you know that the board approved you for the teaching assistant position if you were still interested." His blue eyes never left mine. His words hung in the air like a weighted challenge. I could feel Archer's intense gaze on him.
"Um…yeah, I would love to. Thank you, Professor Hazel."
"Great. I'll send the details to your school email, and we can schedule a time to review expectations and lesson plans."
"I would love that. Thank you."
The rest of the day passed quickly, but something was different about Archer's behavior toward me. He wasn't rude, just distant.
Something felt off .
A feeling of unease settled in my stomach as I followed him outside after my final class. He leaned against a stone pillar and lit a cigarette, the smoke curling toward the sky. He didn't say anything. He just stared at me as he inhaled.
"I need to get some studying done. I'm going to go to the library for a little bit.”
"Okay."
"Okay?" I frowned.
"Yeah."
"Are you okay?"
"Yep. I'll meet you in the library in a bit. "
"Alright," I sighed and left him where he stood, confused about his curt responses.
I spent several hours studying until the sun dipped below the horizon and the library had mostly cleared out. There were ten people, plus the librarian, still hanging around. I had picked a semi-secluded table upstairs to study. It was the same aisle where Archer had kissed me for the first time. I tapped the screen to see if he had texted me, but there was nothing.
"Are you waiting for something, little rabbit?" His voice broke my concentration, and I was startled as I looked in his direction and noted his calm demeanor as he approached me.
"Jesus, you scared me. Where have you been?"
He took a deep breath and let it out slowly as if he was gathering his thoughts. "Why were you checking your phone, Mila?" he asked, leaning down behind me, touching his lips to my ear.
"I-I was checking to see if you had texted me," I admitted, trying to keep my voice steady. "I was waiting for you."
"Did you want me to text you?"
"You said you would meet me here, but it's been several hours and I haven't heard from you." I turned my head to look at him, but his face was stoic. "What's wrong? Why are you acting strange?"
Yep, something was definitely off.
"I'm not," he responded.
"Look, I don't know what's going on with you, but I will not do this with you. I am tired and hungry. So if this is how you're going to act toward me, then I'm out of here." I sighed in frustration, shoving my laptop and notebooks in my bag. I stood up, pushing my chair into his groin, garnering a groan from him, and walked toward the stairs.
"Mila, stop," he called after me.
I ignored him and had barely made it a couple of feet before he spun me around to face him, his grip tight and unrelenting.
"I said fucking stop!" he growled, his anger radiating off of him in waves of heat.
"I don’t have to listen to you. I'm not your fucking property," I spat back, challenging him.
The way his green eyes changed color in front of me was both shocking and menacing. My stomach dropped as I saw the shift in him. He yanked me toward him in a blur of movement, dragging me into a secluded corner of the aisle near where I had been studying. He shoved me against the cold wall, the only thing holding me up as he spoke, as he pinned me to it.
He brought his face close to mine.
"I don't know how to make it any clearer to you that you are mine. You always will be. You belong to me. And that little stunt with Professor Hazel today, I could fucking kill you. The way he looked at you...I'll fucking rip his dick off and shove it down his throat," his words were venomous whispers meant to elicit fear.
"You wouldn't…" I gasped, horrified.
"Oh yes, I fucking would. But he's lucky he's a professor, and killing him would bring more attention than I can afford right now. Do you think I'm fucking stupid?"
"Are you serious? You've killed for less," I scoffed.
"Less? You mean I killed for you? And I would do it again. I would burn the world for you, Mila. I would bathe in the blood of your enemies and fuck you on their bodies."
His statement was chilling and matter-of-fact.
"You're fucking crazy," I spat.
"Real rich coming from the person who smashed a girl's skull in because she was jealous."
"Fuck you!" I cried.
His teeth flashed as he smiled. "I love it when you talk dirty to me." He leaned in close, his breath hot against my ear, "How wet is that tight little pussy of yours right now?"
"You're a dick."
He leaned in close, his voice dropping to a low growl. "I know it's dripping. I can smell it."
I shuddered, my body betraying me as it responded to his words. "Fuck...you..." I whispered, my voice shaking as I emphasized each word .
He chuckled softly, running his fingers through my hair, gently brushing away a strand that had fallen loose from my messy bun. "You're so beautiful when you're angry."
He slammed his lips to mine, bruising them in a violent kiss. I gasped, feeling his tongue invade my mouth, tasting me, claiming me.
He pulled back momentarily. "So fucking beautiful." His hands tightened around my waist, pulling me closer to him until his hardness was pressed firmly against my belly.
My body was on fire. There was something so dark and twisted about what we did together, but I needed him like I needed air, and I craved his touch more than the oxygen I breathed. My hands clawed at his shirt, needing to feel his skin against mine as he devoured me. The way he could kiss me until my knees went weak, and then flip a switch and terrify me with his fury…it was intoxicating. I was caught in his web, and he knew it. Our tongues tangled in a fierce kiss, our teeth clashing as we fought for dominance. His hands pulled my pants down, and I felt him slide into me in one swift, hard thrust. I moaned in his mouth, feeling him fill me completely. His hand covered my mouth, silencing me, and I fought to breathe through my nose as he fucked me against the wall.
"Shh, little rabbit. We're in a library." He gave me a devilish grin.
I clenched around him, and he groaned, digging his fingers into my waist as he thrust harder, his hips pounding against me, and I moaned into his hand. I didn't care if anyone saw us, but the thought that someone might had me dripping wet. I wanted everyone to see how he claimed me, fucking me rough against the wall. I wanted someone to watch as he filled me with his cum. My stifled pants echoed through the quiet library, filling the empty space with the sounds of our lust. And when he increased his pace, he knew I was coming undone.
"That's it, baby," he smirked. "Come on my dick."
I screamed into his hand, feeling myself reach the edge. His eyes were animal-like, filled with hunger and desire, and I came hard, my body shaking violently.
"That's my good girl," he growled, his green eyes glinting with pride. "Fuck..." His hand tightened on my mouth, silencing my cries as he let out his own moan, his hips twitching as he came, pulsing inside of me. I leaned against the wall, trying to catch my breath. He pulled out of me and zipped up his pants, fixing his shirt haphazardly. I straightened my pants, feeling immune to the potential consequences of being seen fucking someone in a public library. His breaths were heavy and ragged as he drank me in.
"Mmm, that's my little rabbit." He traced his fingers lightly down my neck, making me shiver in his arms.
"You're crazy," I panted, still trying to catch my breath.
He chuckled and leaned down, brushing his lips against my ear. "Crazy is just another word for love in our world."
I shook my head, trying to clear the fog in my mind.
Did he say he loved me?
No, he couldn't love me already.
That's not what this was.
This was sex.
Twisted, sick, demented sex with a sexy killer, but sex nonetheless.
Or was it that I loved him too, but like everything else in my life, I had to apply rationality to every fucking thing that happened to me instead of just experiencing things naturally and embracing the chaos of it?
"What are we doing?" I asked him.
"Existing," he answered simply, kissing my neck. "And fucking each other through the chaos."
I sighed, unable to deny the truth in his words. Our relationship was far from simple, but it was ours, and that was what mattered right now.
"Did you hear that?" The library echoed with the sounds of quiet whispers and turning pages. We both listened, and I tried to ignore the flush on my cheeks. "Someone's coming."
"Then we better get out of here before they think we were fucking or something." His laugh was low, and I let him grab my hand and walk with me right out of the library and into the cold night.