Chapter 27 #3
Gritting my teeth, I breathe through my nose, refusing to let her have any more control over me. I won’t fuck her, but I bet she’d fucking love that.
“Cum for me, Lotus Flower. Show me you’re just as fucked in the head as I am.”
Her hands reach out, wrapping around my wrist as I tighten my grip on her neck, hard enough that there will be bruises to commemorate this night. Her eyes widen, and I see the fear I was craving from her, making me nearly fucking lose it.
My movements grow wild as I thrust roughly inside her, moving my thumb harder against her clit.
Her nails dig into my arm, panic seeping into her features. Her nostrils flare, and her lips are parted as she struggles to breathe.
Pressing my forehead to hers, I look her right in the eyes and growl, “Be a good little pain whore and soak my fucking hand right fucking now.”
Air passes her lips in a whisper of a sound as her body shatters in my hold. “Fuck!” I curse as her cunt strangles my fingers so hard she might fucking break them.
Her body shakes in my hold as her climax crashes into her. I can feel her excitement flowing over my hand, her pussy contracting around my fingers as ripple after ripple of pleasure courses through her body.
Finally, I let go of her throat mid-orgasm. She lets go of my arm to catch herself as she slumps back against my bike.
Her breasts heave with every breath she struggles to take, a scared but curious look in her eyes as my fingers stay buried in her cunt.
Stepping forward, I loom over her. She looks up at me, eyes flicking between mine. “You look so fucking good at my mercy, Lotus Flower,” I murmur, brushing my thumb against her lower lip with the urge to lean in and claim her lips with mine.
Pulling my fingers free, I grab her face with my other hand, pressing hard and forcing her mouth to open. I bring the fingers that were just inside her up, shoving them past her lips and so far inside her mouth that I make her gag as she’s forced to taste her own arousal.
“This is your fucking mess,” I growl. “So clean up after yourself.”
I let go of her face, letting her wrap her lips around my fingers. Her tongue swirls around my digits, which turns me on more than it should.
She takes me by surprise when she grabs my wrist and pulls my fingers free. With her eyes locked on mine, her tongue slips out, and she starts to lick her arousal from the palm of my hand.
My nostrils flare as I pant because my cock’s so fucking painfully hard right now. It’s taking everything in me not to spin her around and take her needy cunt.
It’s when she moans like a bitch in heat, loving every moment, that snaps me out of whatever spell she managed to get me under.
And just like that, the moment is over.
I yank my hand from her hold, the realization of what I just did, what I allowed to happen, sinking into my sex-muddled mind.
Who is this girl? Because this is not the Nola I know.
Whoever she is, she needs to go. This needs to stop. Because for the smallest moment, she acted like the kind of girl we’ve craved her to be.
And that can’t happen. Yes, I was rough, I was the tiniest bit mean, and she liked it. But this isn’t anywhere near the kind of depravity we like to indulge in.
The thing that pisses me off the most is that she loved every moment of it. There was no fight from her. The fucked up part is that I’m disappointed she didn’t tell me to stop, that there was trust instead of fear in her eyes.
She wanted every moment of that and I don’t know what to make of it.
“Pull your fucking shorts up,” I snap.
Lola blinks at me, her brows furrowed. “Jasper?”
“Do as I say, Nola. Now.”
Turning around, I stomp over to where I threw my helmet down. Picking it up, I put it back on my head and head over to her.
She’s buttoning up her shorts, glaring at me like she wants to bite my head off.
I ignore her and climb on my bike. “Get on,” I tell her before starting it up.
She doesn’t, just stands there and stares at me.
“Get on or I’ll fucking leave you here,” I shout over the sound of the bike.
What does this girl do? She fucking turns around and starts walking down the street.
“You have got to be fucking kidding me,” I snarl. Leaving the bike idling, I get off and storm after her.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
“Walking home!” she hollers over her shoulder at me.
“No, you’re not!”
“Yes, I am.”
“Get on the bike, Nola.”
“No!”
“Get on the fucking bike!” I roar.
“Fuck you!” She spins around with wild eyes. She shoves her hand into her purse and pulls out the damn kitchen knife. “Leave me alone, or I’ll chop that fucking thing off.” She points to my dick.
She’s crazy. She’s downright fucking crazy.
“I don’t know what's gotten into you, but it needs to stop.” I ignore the knife and close the space between us.
“I’ll do it!”
“Sure, you will,” I mutter.
“Hey!” she shouts as I bend down and throw her over my shoulder. “Put me down.”
My hand comes down hard on her ass, making her gasp. “That’s enough out of you,” I bark back.
She’s quiet as I head back to my bike. Instead of putting her on her feet—I’m not dumb enough to give her the chance to run again—I put her directly on the seat.
Then I throw my leg over and take the bike off the kickstand.
“Hold on,” I tell her, giving her only a second before revving the engine and taking off down the street.
Nola’s grip on me is tight the whole way home.
My mind is reeling, feeling like this was some kind of fever dream.
I’ve seen some changes with my own eyes, but this? What happened tonight was too much.
It can’t happen again.
We need to distance ourselves from her again. We have someone watching over her, she doesn’t need us being so close.
Our place has always been in the shadows when it comes to her, and that’s where we should have stayed.
I pull up to her house, parking my bike on the side of the road.
“Get off,” I tell her.
She does, climbing off the bike and stepping onto the sidewalk.
“That's it?!” Nola gapes at me, her blonde hair wild from the ride. “You snatch me off the side of the road, bring me to the middle of nowhere, finger fuck me on the side of your motorcycle, and now you’re just going to drop me off at home as if nothing happened?”
She’s pissed, I can see the anger shining bright in her eyes. I don’t blame her, she should hate me. It would be a hell of a lot easier if she did.
I fucked up tonight, I did the one thing I’ve spent years telling the guys not to do.
Nola is off limits. We were to keep her in our sick, little fucked up fantasies with no follow-through.
We’ve all seen the change in her, that much is obvious. She’s not the same girl we’ve spent years protecting from the shadows. She’s not the same girl whose laugh haunts my dreams, the one filled with childlike wonder and promises for a perfect future.
That still doesn’t change the fact that even with this new side of her, she’s still nowhere near equipped to handle us, to handle this life.
Her dad has made it his mission to protect her from this world we’re a part of. It’s only right that we do the same.
My heart races as my hands clutch the handlebars of my motorcycle. “Good night, Nola,” I grit out, hating that I have to leave her after finally getting a taste of the real thing.
I took it easy on her tonight, I held back. And it was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done.
While her pleasure was delectable, I want her pain and fear as well. But I won’t do that to her, I won’t hurt Nola. I care too much about her to do that.
“You three are fucking ridiculous. First, Sylas corners me in the bathroom at school and makes me ride his knee like a horny slut. Then, Wesley pulls me into the bathroom at your guys’ place on New Year’s and makes out with me until I can’t breathe.
Now this? This push and pull bullshit is getting old.
Don’t fucking touch me again until you’ve made up your mind.
You either want me, or you don’t. You can’t have it both ways. ”
With that, she spins around and rushes toward her front door.
It takes me a moment for my mind to play catch up.
What did she just say?
Did she just say that to try and get a rise out of me, or did my best friends go against their promise and touch what was off limits?
With an angry huff, I take off down the street toward Sylas’ house.
Pulling into his driveway, I shut the bike off, park it, and storm up the stairs. “Sylas!” I bellow, fury coursing through my veins as I throw the door open. “Wesley!”
“What’s wrong?” Sylas rushes into the foyer from the kitchen.
I pull off my helmet, shaking out my hair. Narrowing my eyes, I stare at his worried expression.
“Did you do something with Nola at school?” I demand with a growl.
“Uh, no?” he says it as a question. Motherfucker is lying to me.
“Don’t fucking lie!” I get in his face. “Did you touch her?”
“I mean, technically no. She’s the one who used my knee to get off. I kept my hands to myself.” He raises his hands. “So, I didn’t break any rule.”
“What is wrong with you?”
“How long do you have?” He chuckles, grinning at me.
My fists tighten at my sides.
“Naughty, Sylas.” Wesley comes strolling into the room, Garrett behind him. “Always breaking the rules.”