Chapter 21 #2
Sighing, I trudge down the short hallway to the door and take a moment to pause before it. My heart is pounding harder than it ever has, but I refuse to set it free. If I have to stay here and face a very angry beast of a man, then so do all my goddamn organs.
I attempt to inhale but fail miserably when my chest tightens, and it whooshes back out of me in a shuddery wheeze.
He knocks again, slow and ominous. I’m not proud of the tiny whimper that escapes my throat.
Before I lose any more courage, I unlock the door and swing it open, a sour look on my face.
He’s casually leaning against the doorjamb, arms crossed, head down as he looks at his phone. He wears a black snapback hat backward, a few strands creeping out on the sides, curling around his temple.
When he lifts his stare to meet mine, way more of his face is visible than I’m used to, and I forget the entire concept of linguistics.
The butterflies in my stomach take flight, wanting out of his vicinity just as desperately while I try to recall a singular letter in the alphabet.
Even if I do, I don’t know where the fuck to begin pronouncing it. And phonetics? Never heard of her.
He keeps his expression carefully blank as he drags his eyes down my form and then slowly back up again. By the time they return to my face, flames melt the ice within them and subsequently light me on fire.
I’m fucking burning up inside.
He’s pissed.
Probably turned on, too.
And that’s already proven to be a really fucking dangerous combo.
I work to swallow and silently step back to let him pass. The gears in my brain turn at a breakneck speed, calculating the velocity with which I can move my body out of this fucking door and the probability of it being faster than him.
Ultimately, my hypothesis is not a fucking chance, so I keep my feet glued.
His bottom lip curls between his teeth, and he keeps his gaze locked on me until he can’t anymore as he passes, an intense, suffocating, soul-sucking energy radiating from him. It’s so visceral, it might as well be a goddamn demonic entity of its own, possessing his body as needed.
I watch him emerge into the main room, my gaze frozen on the backpack casually hanging on his shoulder.
Yeah… See, I don’t like that shit. Because what the fuck does he need a backpack for? He’s not staying the fucking night, and he’d sooner drag me back to his dorm anyway.
Fuck.
Heart in my throat, I close the door behind him, pausing there for a moment while I try—and epically fail—at gathering my wits.
I kind of want to cry, but instead, I force myself to spin on my toes and slowly walk into the main room, kicking up my heels sheepishly and suctioning air through my pursed lips, feeling very much like a kid in trouble.
Not that I’ve done anything wrong. I don’t owe him a single goddamn thing.
But I have to tread lightly, because whether I like it or not, there’s only one apex predator in this room, and it’s unfortunately not me.
He stands on the left side of the bed, closest to the wall, the backpack on the mattress in front of him. He’s staring at me intently, his lips parted as he rolls his tongue along his inner cheek, as if he’s trying to decide what to do with me.
I’ve been in a lot of tense situations with Dread, but this is different. It’s charged, like the room is full of methane, and one flick of a lighter, we go boom.
I feel it in my tight lungs, my racing pulse, the pit of my stomach… and deep in my core.
“Let me guess,” I start brazenly, forcing bravado into my tone that I definitely don't feel. “You tell me you own me, that I’m a very naughty girl for running away and blocking you. I tell you to fuck off. You punish me by… Hmm…” I look up, pursing my lips again and feigning contemplation.
“Fucking me. Maybe even making me suck your dick. I know spanking me was on the table, of course, but I imagine it wouldn’t end there, no? ”
He looks down at his feet with a dark chuckle before lifting his burning stare to me again. “I think we both know if I spanked you, you would beg me for more, darling.”
Asshole.
“I think you should keep your hands to yourself,” I retort, a bite to my tone.
He hums, scrutinizing me in a way that has me shifting my weight to the other leg and my hand flying to my necklace. I glide it back and forth along the chain as I bake beneath his burning stare.
I'm very uncomfortable.
Except my nipples harden and my stomach fills with the same heat radiating from the inferno in his eyes before slowly sinking between my thighs.
“Why did you run from me?” he asks quietly.
“I didn’t run from you. I ran from what comes with you.”
His jaw clenches, but he stays silent, waiting for me to explain.
I turn my focus straight ahead to the wall.
“If you didn’t post that picture of us, no one would’ve thought for a second it was you in my room.
She probably wouldn't have recorded it all.” I shrug a shoulder.
“Or maybe she would've, but she probably would’ve just sent it to you to use against me. People only care about me because of you.”
Still, he stays quiet, studying me.
“Now, we’re all over the internet, and because of our past, the world is having a goddamn field day theorizing how we came to be. People are questioning why the fuck we’d want anything to do with each other, and the worst part is, I don’t even know the answer to that.”
I huff out a humorless laugh, returning my attention to him and finally releasing my necklace to toss my arms out to my sides.
I feel almost defeated as I say, “I mean, seriously, Dread. What the fuck are we even doing? I don’t know what your end goal is here—to fuck me until you can get revenge on my father and then…
” I struggle for words and then throw up a frustrated hand as I question, “We break up and go our separate ways? So all of this is for, what? What’s the point in dragging me into the public eye, declaring me as your girlfriend, and fucking me, only to eventually let me go, anyway? Just to torture me some more?”
His brows jump up on his forehead, sounding genuinely shocked as he asks, “You think I’d let you go?”
I shake my head, at a loss for words for a few beats.
“I suspect you'll eventually meet some girl you'll want to marry and breed with, no? I'm pretty damn confident she won't be okay with you continuing to terrorize another woman for the rest of your life. I mean, graduation is in three months, Dread.”
He releases another humorless chuckle, as if I’m a silly child who just doesn’t get it.
My heart dips and my spine snaps straight, prickling at the condescension and ready to pop him in the mouth.
He casually prowls toward me, each thunderous step rattling my bones like they belong to a hundred-foot giant. He comes to a stop before me, his chest brushing against mine and agitating my sensitive nipples. I inhale, letting my head fall almost all the way back as I glare up at him.
I jolt as he softly brushes my bangs out of my eyes, his gaze almost reverent.
“Why would I marry someone else when I can marry you and have you right by my side to torment forever?”
My mouth pops open, confounded by his audacity. It takes several seconds to find my voice again.
“Like I'd ever marry you,” I say, spitting out the words like they're rotten. “Why would I marry someone who only wants to hurt me?”
He smirks as he pinches my chin and leans down until barely an inch of space remains between our mouths.
“Because it makes you so fucking happy when I do,” he rasps quietly, gravel lining his throat.
“You make those sexy little giggles and give me such a big smile, right before you come so fucking hard for me.” He scrapes his teeth over his bottom lip, a pleased hum vibrating his throat as he glances between my lips and eyes, settling on the latter before saying, “The day I never see that again will be the day you bury me six feet under wearing a black dress, my mourning little widow.”
Chills roll down my spine, and my abdomen contracts around the boiling pit within.
Even if I had something to say to any of that, my voice box is out of order, no longer in operation.
“I'm all you’ll ever have, Reverie. I would never claim you to the entire world just to let someone else have you,” he says, as if I'm just a silly little goose.
I recoil. “So this is just about possessing me? So no one else can have me? You hate my guts, but I’m a fun toy to play with, is that it?”
He smirks. “Not a toy, baby. You’re my little violin, remember?”
It’s my turn to laugh, except all I feel is fury and something akin to hurt.
“I’m not a fucking possession, Dread, so you can fuck off.”
I go to turn away, but he fists my hair and jerks me back into him, wrenching a gasp from my throat. Our chests press together, and my neck strains from him forcing my head back to meet his burning eyes, flames consuming them entirely.
“Then why is it you possess me?” he snarls, his voice demonic. “Why do you get to torment me, but I should let you live in peace?”
“I don’t do anything to you!”
“You breathe!” he shouts, his gaze turning wild as our chests heave. “That’s what you fucking do, Reverie. You breathe. You exist. You take up so much fucking space, I can’t even close my eyes without seeing you. You’ve ingrained yourself so deeply in me, I would die if I cut you out.”
I tremble from the storm of emotions raging inside me. Frustrated tears burn the backs of my eyes, and all I want is for him to let me hate him.
“Then die!” I growl, shoving his chest roughly with both hands. “Cut me out of you and give it all back to me!”
He only pulls me into him harder, banding his other arm around my lower back and crushing me against him. I plant my hands on his abdomen, pushing against him, but to no avail.
“Yeah? That’s what you want?” he bites out through gritted teeth, fisting my hair harder. “You want me to die, baby?”
“Yes.” I spit the word in his face.