Chapter 26
“I need to get laid tonight. I think Emeric could be gay.” Kay threw his arm around my neck. “Unless one of you wants to try something new?”
“I think his girlfriend of three years would disagree, and no thanks,” Cillian added, drinking his flute of champagne. “As for you, Levi, lusting after a girl like a perv doesn’t seem to be a success?”
So it wasn’t a nightmare. Everyone was seeing Dalia dancing with Sylas and hugging him.
“I could get rid of the Sylas situation with just a snap of my fingers. I have minions.” Kay smirked. “That color doesn’t even fit him. He’s pitiful.”
I knew Sylas’s well-protected secret, something that even Kay had never told us, and he wasn’t the type to keep a secret—he always shared his billboard conquests.
I remained quiet. This scene was disturbing. I had allowed Sylas to get this close to Dalia because I knew he would never be interested in her. But she didn’t know that. Maybe she liked him? What did she and Kay see in him anyway? Well, too bad for her, I was in the mood to make her stop liking him by making his existence an ancient memory.
My grip tightened on the glass. It was disguised as champagne but filled with sparkling water until it cracked. Kay took a step back. Cheap glass. I threw it away, ignoring the fresh cut oozing blood on my fingertips.
“Shit, man! You’re not yourself since she arrived,” Kay complained. “Everyone is so smitten with her! I don’t see the fuck why!”
My black stare hit him, but Kay didn’t waver.
“I don’t like her, and I never will. Now…” Kay grabbed another flute. “Go get blow jobs instead of standing like a bunch of losers without a date. That’s what I’m about to do. If anyone is looking for me, I’ll be in the bathroom.”
“Sure, because sleeping around to attract someone’s attention works so well for you,” I deadpanned. I was in the mood for chaos.
Kay frowned, but he didn’t dare come back with a nasty comment. Not this time.
“Well, I’m leaving. This looks like one of my mother’s charity parties,” Cillian said, smoothing down his black Armani suit. “Are you coming?”
We were never ones to linger at parties. Me because of my general disdain for people, and Cillian because he avoided them like the plague, barely engaging. I couldn’t blame him; his eccentric mother fancied herself as something out of Gatsby, while her own son was a nerdy introvert.
“No, I’m going to keep torturing myself.” Meaning, watching Dalia dance with that asshole.
“It’s nice to know you’re not as dead inside as we all thought.” Cillian chuckled, and he left.
Dalia’s eyes danced between Sylas and me as if she was enjoying the display of power and teasing. My body was set on fire, and I was pained to remain in control of myself. Every clueless person here thought she belonged to him.
I had gone to great lengths for her that evening. Dealing with her colleague Maria—who didn’t have 1 percent of Dalia’s talent—by giving her a golden opportunity was painful. I could have blackmailed her the old-fashioned way instead. I’d had my tailored suit made twice because it didn’t match the exact shade of black in Dalia’s dress, and I’d let Kay convince me to paint my fucking nails black because it was the latest fashion. Not that she ever noticed those details.
“Enough playing, Dalia.” I readjusted this excuse of a tie, ended my insanity, and paced toward her.
With a few strides, I infiltrated the core of the grand salon, pushing aside the dancing couples until I reached my target.
I placed my hand firmly on Sylas’s shoulder, a spasm shooting through my tensing fingers. “Leave.”
“Why don’t you leave me alone?” Sylas stole the answer I knew Dalia had on her lips.
“Correction. I’m not leaving her alone; you, on the contrary—you’re free to go.”
“You don’t know what you want, dude,” Sylas quipped back.
Neither do you, asshole.
“I do now.” I pushed him out of my way. “You’ll find something interesting in the bathroom.”
He clenched his jaw and stormed away. There I was, playing Cupid. I needed to find myself again ASAP.
“Dance with me,” I requested, extending my hand to Dalia.
It was met with a blunt “No.”
Why did I even bother with politeness? I seized her hand anyway and pulled her into a forced spin, pressing our bodies together. “That wasn’t a question.”
“I said no.”
“And I’m tired of it.”
She gave in, letting me lead the dance. She was trying to break my bones, digging her nails hard into my hand as if she wanted to tear my skin apart. It was delightful. My grip tightened on hers, and she narrowed her eyes back at me. I smirked, and she purposely stepped on my foot.
“You’re jealous,” she accused.
“I thought you knew by now that I’m always jealous when it comes to you. But so are you, don’t deny it.”
“I—” She clasped her lips. “You have to stop interfering in my life and with my music. I need to show what I’m capable of without your help. I want to be proud of myself for doing it, not owing it to someone else. What you did tonight was wrong. I didn’t need your help, so don’t do that ever again or—”
“Okay,” I said, making her twirl.
She didn’t need my help, but that teacher of hers was blind and needed my help to make him recover his sight.
“Okay?” she questioned with a frown.
“I won’t interfere with your music.”
“You promise?”
I had a bad feeling. The kind where if she were to say please, I’d obey anything she could ask. “Yes.”
“You’re twisted.”
I spun her around so her back would face my front, my length already pulsing in my trousers. “Are we back to when you list all of my qualities?”
“You’re also vile.”
My lips hovered near her neck, and I nibbled on her ear. “And you lied to me.”
“When?”
“When I asked you if you had the slightest bit of attraction for me in your dorm?”
She remained silent and attempted to break free from my grip, but I held firm, my fingers constricting around hers, compelling her to suffocate against my body. If she wanted to play it rough, we could.
“You crossed your fingers behind your back. You wanted me. And you’ll pay for your lie, but for now—” My hands firmly grasped her waist, and with a swift movement, I compelled her to twirl around, bringing her face-to-face with me. “I’ll fucking take what the both of us have been craving. I’m done waiting. I’ve given you enough time.”
“Levi,” she breathed. “I’ve never said I was yours.”
I caressed the soft skin of her cheek, and she leaned into my touch. She was becoming mine by the second, even if she didn’t realize it. “I’m going to kiss you, Dalia. So now, are you going to accept that destructive and disgusting bond that is between us?”
I fisted her hair, yanked her to me, and crashed my mouth with hers in the middle of the whole crowd.
My therapist believed I was starving for affection. I remembered his exact words. Forcing someone to stay with you, like you did with that butterfly, isn’t the solution, Levi. You can’t make someone love you back. You can’t force things. Every living thing deserves a choice.
Like hell. Dalia was my new butterfly, and I couldn’t care less.
We wouldn’t be here right now if I had given her a choice from the start. I wouldn’t be branding my lips against her, my tongue tangling with hers, stealing all of her breaths and knowing how perfectly her curves fit in my palms.
Still holding her hand, I weaved us through the crowd of students, nudging aside anyone who dared to obstruct our path. I steered us toward a secluded area—a dimly lit marbled hallway veiled by closed curtains, hidden from view.
“Levi, what are you doing?” she whimpered, and I shoved her back into one of the walls between two lit-up ornate sconces.
I brushed my thumb over her bottom lip. “Something I should have done weeks ago.”
I cupped her mouth in another kiss. More urgent. More demanding. Sucking the sweetness out of her. Her teeth sank into my lips, and I gripped her throat, feeling the pulse of her beating heart. I squeezed—not enough to choke her but enough to feel her quiver. I trailed my kisses down to her collarbone, her neck, sucking and nipping, getting high on her orange scent and on the aftermath of the sugary pink blend of her lips.
“What if people see us?” she moaned, and, God, that moan, it got me feral.
“Then they’ll mysteriously disappear and would never live to talk about it,” I rasped.
I captured her lower lip between my teeth and slipped my hand to clasp her ass, my cock straining in my pants.
“Levi,” she complained, half moaning.
“What? I’d prefer not to commit murder, but if it comes to that, I will, and don’t forget it’ll all be because of you.”
Her soft fingers cradled my hair, and my rotten heart exploded in my chest. She clung to me, all of my muscles tensing. I wasn’t used to the feeling of her skin, of her touching me back. I seized her hands as they trailed down my chest and locked them above her head with one hand. I dragged my free hand over her thigh underneath her puffy dress.
“I’d take a first from you tonight, Dalia,” I warned her, caressing her on top of her wet cotton panty. “You’re so wet, little thief. Now be a good girl and part your legs for me.”
Her cheeks flushed red. “Levi… What are you doing?”
Again with that question. “I’m being generous.”
In my normality, I should have asked her to get on her knees and suck me until I came in her mouth or on her face, then let her deal with that mess alone. Making her lose control was the most alluring foreplay for now.
“I’m not ready for everything,” she gasped. “This is a big deal to me.”
My lips curled. “Too bad you met me.”
“You won’t hurt me,” she whispered, and her newly born trust sent something unwanted in my heart.
“You’re right; you’re not ready for the way I want to fuck you. The way I crave to own you. Break you and put the pieces back together. I have so many wicked fantasies, one hundred and sixty-one, to be precise, but those will have to wait. I wouldn’t want to scare you from the start. First, I need to prepare you for me.”
I pushed her panties aside, and my fingers spread her wetness. A groan tore from my throat. She was holding her breath, biting hard on her lower lip, searching around in fear of getting caught.
“Are you scared someone will see me finger-fuck you?” I kissed her earlobe. “Isn’t this what you want? That I make you come right here in the dark like a slut?”
My thumb stroked her clit, and she put a hand on my shoulder to hold on, her nails digging down my suit.
I lifted my brow, my lips curling. “Do you want me to stop, Dalia, or do you want me to give you our first orgasm?”
“Don’t,” she panted, her knees trying to close in, her hips buckling in from the friction.
I pinned them open. “Don’t what?”
“Don’t stop,” she begged.
I slid one finger inside her, feeling her whole body clenching around me. She was so damn tight, I’d have to go slower than I thought. I pumped my finger in and out of her, the slick, wet noise echoing in the stillness of the room. Her brows curved inward, and she gasped.
“A full sentence, Dalia.”
“You know what I want,” she whimpered, her green eyes numbed with desire. “Don’t make me say it.”
I let go, pulling away my fingers, and the grasp I had on her wrists. “Say it.”
“I’m ashamed for you to see me like that. Especially you. I don’t know how to do this, and I still don’t know if I hate you or if I like you. You’re messing with my head!”
“Ashamed,” I repeated, humming. “We’ll have to change that. I’ll have to make you unlearn your beliefs more than I thought. I’m so hard for you, Dalia, I’ll probably have to go to the bathroom to deal with my issue here unless I fuck your sweet mouth. And I’m not ashamed of it.”
I thought I could maintain some semblance of control by finger-fucking her. I didn’t want her to be my damnation yet, but the day I’d break her innocence with my dick and suck her clit with my mouth, I’d be done for.
Blush bloomed on her cheeks again, and I trailed my fingers on my way up from her belly to stop at the underline of her breast. Ashamed for you to see me like that , she had said. I’d have to see even more of her to prove my point. I lowered the top of her dress underneath her breasts so I could have a full view of them. I hated myself for having found a corner invisible from the cameras, or else I’d have gladly kept that footage.
I swept my thumb over her rosy nipple and tugged on it, making her come to me. “Are you still ashamed? Ashamed that you’re soaking wet for me, your breasts fully visible to me like a dirty little slut?” I palmed her breast, kneading her nipple, and she moaned. “Ashamed that you want me to slide my finger back in your tight pussy?” My dick pulsed in my trousers as I grabbed her throat. “It’s no shame what you’re feeling—it’s pleasure—and from where I’m standing, you have nothing to be ashamed of.”
She had everything to entice me, to make the beast inside me go savage to possess her.
She closed her eyes and blurted out, “I want you to continue what you were doing with your fingers. It was nice. And this, this is nice too.”
I smirked, then dipped down, sucking on her hard nipple, taking her breast into my mouth. I pushed a finger back inside her while she bounced on the wall. I circled my thumb over her clit, her wetness dripping down her thighs. I claimed her neck again, her breathing increasing, her chest heaving.
“Yes,” she moaned, her nails digging down my shoulder to keep herself steady.
I increased the pressure on her clit, and she burrowed her head in the hollow of my neck.
“Look at me,” I ordered, my voice hoarse with need.
She threw her head back, her beautiful, wide eyes settling on me.
“I’m feeling hot,” she panted, her eyes pinching shut again.
“Good, it means you’re close.” I tugged at her nipple. “Eyes. On. Me.”
I wanted to see her come and fall apart for me. I felt her legs clenching around me and her lips pinching shut. Her orgasm wrenched her apart, and I clamped my hand on her mouth to muffle her scream. She tried to push me out, but I continued stroking her clit for a few more seconds, her whole body clenching.
I pulled back from her and tasted her arousal on my finger. Fucking divine.
“Cover yourself.” I heard noises coming closer, probably from the bathroom, and I straightened my spine, standing on guard.
She hurried to readjust her dress at an insanely fast pace. Most people were drained after an orgasm, yet she was energized like she was on coke.
“I-I need to go see Yasmine and process what just happened.” She gestured back and forth between us, her cheeks flushed crimson, just the way I liked them. “Oh god, I—we’ll talk. Maybe. Someday.”
“You and I, or God and you? Because I don’t think God can help with—”
She waved her hands in every direction like a scarecrow, running away from me. “That was… We did… I—take care.”
My brows furrowed. “Take care?”
And then she was off, but not even in the right direction. I would have chased her if I didn’t need to kill that growing erection in my pants and the fact that she had left me even more frustrated than I already was. I always thought I was above sex. Clearly not. I was just as miserable as the next man.
I paced by the bathroom and resolved to deal with my inconvenience in peace. I opened the door to the male bathroom, only to see Kay and Sylas resolving their issues by fucking.
“For fuck’s sake.” I closed the door at the sight of them, groaning in frustration.
“Five minutes!” Kay’s voice echoed.
“Ten,” the other asshole replied.
“Wait, maybe ten!”
I was the only frustrated fool here.