Chapter 30
The doorbell chimed, a happy sound that made my chest feel lighter.
I stepped over the threshold and excitement bubbled as the hum of overlapping conversations mixed with the smell of new books.
Lovestruck was the last shop in the strip, a splash of vibrant energy where every bookshelf was painted a defiant, unapologetic pink.
Books were crammed onto shelves that reached the ceiling and were elegantly set up on tables in the middle of the floor.
It was packed—friends whispering excitedly, students swarming the merchandise on the left and far right of the shop—making the space feel even smaller, more intimate. It was shoulder to shoulder. The air was thick and should have been overwhelming.
Ethan stepped behind me, his large frame acting as a shield against the crowd. The heat of his hand rested on my hip.
“Stay close,” Ethan warned. “There’s more people in here than outside. I wouldn’t want to lose you.”
I stepped away from him and further into the horde. He followed me, a silent shadow. “Trust me. In this place, it isn’t the people you need to worry about with me,” I whispered, feeling giddy as my eyes roamed the shelves, reading each genre at the top.
“Then what do we-I have to fear?” Ethan growled. He leaned down, his lips brushing against my ear. I flipped around, my gaze trailing up his chest, over his straining shoulders, and paused on his lips. My breathing stumbled at the memory of them between my legs.
“The book boyfriends,” I rasped, my eyes sliding up to meet his as they flashed to gold. His hand appeared at my thigh as my back met a shelf.
“And… how many bastards am I competing with?” he murmured, completely indifferent to the bodies around us, and a teenager so lost in his book he didn’t notice us. The neon sign was five feet from where we were, but no one paid us any mind.
“Too many to count,” I teased. I wanted to see more of him, know more of him, and being away from his packhouse felt like the best place to do that.
He navigated us toward the back, guiding me through a narrow hallway that opened into a quieter room where the Dark Romance and Forbidden sections lay.
Here, he caged me. The cheerful pink walls were obscured by heavy shadows and towering stacks of books still to be set out.
“Real or fictional—I’ll kill any man you run away with,” he breathed against my ear.
My nipples hardened and my cheeks warmed at the effect he had on me.
“Five questions. We’ll exchange information, but in a room this full, the penalty has to be worth it.
The price for a truth is absolute stillness.
If you jump, pull away, or try to make yourself seen by others… the game is over.”
“And the penalty for a lie?” I choked, my throat dry. A group of girls laughed an aisle over, only a thin row of merch and a vendor separating us. The risk of getting caught made my heart hammer against my ribs.
He closed the distance between us, his chest against mine as his lips moved against my skin. “You won’t cum.”
I inhaled sharply, my legs already shaking as he straightened above me.
“First question,” I whispered, desperate for a distraction. “At the Mating Festival, what did you think of me?”
Ethan’s hand moved as if he already had a target in mind, fingers sliding up the hem of my dark knit dress between my legs.
My heart thrummed violently in my chest. “Truth. I thought you were everything,” he murmured, his voice filling the little space between us. “I knew you could be the end of me.”
I gasped as he found my aching heat. His fingers slid knuckle-deep, and his thumb rubbed slow circles into my clit. My hands jumped to where we were connected and his eyes darkened.
“You moved, Wildflower,” he groaned. “That’s a penalty.”
My eyes widened as my mind rushed to remember what he’d said the penalty was. His fingers stilled, and a quiet whine fell from my lips. My hips ground, desperate for him to move again.
“It’s your turn,” I keened.
Ethan’s chest rose rapidly with each breath.
My gaze dipped to the thick imprint in his pants.
I swallowed as I reached for him. My fingers gently touched his tip and slowly slid down, lips parting at his thickness.
This time, I stepped into him, my fingers sliding beneath the band of his pants until I found him slick and ready.
My eyes darted to his and to my surprise, his jaw was clenched.
“Your question?” I rasped. He grunted as my thumb rubbed his tip, smearing the liquid down his shaft until it dried.
“Am I your type?” he asked, his hips moving, my fingers expanding as his cock slid through them.
“Oh,” I gasped. “Truth. I knew you were handsome that night, but when I saw you without your mask, I—yes. You are.” I was inexperienced, but I liked this, enjoyed making him feel good. His jaw fell slack as my fingers hit a bulge. My eyes widened—his knot.
Then his fingers thrust inside me and my body slumped against the wall.
His hand came up beside my head, blocking me as I ground against his touch.
I brought my free hand up and bit my fingers to stop myself from moaning.
My lashes fluttered as I stared up into his eyes.
They flickered from lust to jealousy. “Was he your type?”
My lips parted as saliva pooled in my mouth. I flinched from his question, but the impact was muddled as his thumb rubbed up and down my clit. My body jerked with each thrust of his fingers. “Truth. Yes.”
His fingers stalled at the revelation. My brows furrowed as I chased that feeling he’d been giving me just a second before.
I moved my hips, needing to drive him deeper.
Then he leaned down, and I offered my neck without thought, and he bit.
His teeth didn’t break skin, but it hurt and felt good at the same time.
I moaned, my body shuddering against his as he withdrew his fingers.
My breath came in short, uneven pulls as my gaze flicked to his.
I dug deep, wrapping my fingers around his knot.
He growled, his chest vibrating against mine as I squeezed tight.
Shane and I had been complicated. I’d felt conflicted, but I hadn’t asked for his advances.
Ethan had someone on the side. Someone he hadn’t gotten rid of, and he wasn’t the only one who got to be angry.
He hunched forward, his forehead against mine as my grip slid up his length.
Power filled my veins as I felt the Mad King tremble as I jerked him hard and fast.
“And Sabine? Is she your type?” I spat as his face dropped to the curve of my neck. I worked him even as his hips bucked and I felt the force he would use with me. My breath quickened.
“Truth. Yes, but she was a tool for my pleasure, nothing more.” His voice was hoarse as he took over, his fingers spearing in and out of me. My thighs trembled as I widened them. The sounds his fingers elicited made my vision blur.
So good.
“Am I the first to touch this?” he growled.
I flinched back, remembering the gym. How could I explain what I couldn’t understand?
He watched my expression, understanding dawning that he wasn’t, but his fingers didn’t stop.
I brought my hand out, spitting on it before returning it to his length.
His speed kicked up and I mimicked him. Our breathing came out ragged as something began building.
That same feeling he’d given me on the terrace.
I arched, my hands flying up to catch my weight on the shelf, but Ethan’s hand was already there, catching my wrists and pinning them to the wood.
“Penalty,” he choked as his fingers stopped moving.
I was a wire stretched too tight, vibrating with a need that felt like it would shatter my bones. My hips bucked instinctively, chasing the friction of his hand, but he held my wrists pinned, his jaw set.
“We’re done here,” he said, his voice instantly firm as he stepped back.
“We didn’t finish,” I rasped, moving my hand up and down his length. My thumb rubbed over his tip, smearing the slickness down his length.
“Do you even know how many women you’ve been with?” I hissed. His hand gripped my wrist.
“Truth. Yes, I do. Your turn,” he said, voice rough, his eyes dark with a mix of his own jealousy still simmering from my answer about Shane. “Did you try to look for me?”
My voice died in my throat. I tried again, “Yes.”
Ethan’s gaze pierced straight through me, the gold in his eyes flaring hot and accusing as he read the lie written across my face.
“You broke the rule,” he ground out. “I won’t make you cum. Not here. Not tonight.”
He withdrew his hand, and I bit my lip to stop the protest from the loss of his heat. I watched as he adjusted his clothes, his movements stiff and controlled, while my knees buckled. He grabbed me, my body trembling with an aching pulse of need.
“Let’s get you some books.”
I didn’t say anything. I reached down, surreptitiously wiping the slick combination of our fluids down the side of my dress.
As he led me from shelf to shelf, I mindlessly grabbed a few.
He held them in his free hand. We checked out and stepped out of the store.
The cool air hit my heated skin. I caught my reflection in the dark tint of his car.
My hand rose instinctively, fingers ghosting over the bare skin of my throat.
I stared at the empty space for a heartbeat too long.
Then, I dropped my hand, smoothed my dress, and climbed into the passenger seat without a word.
The drive was silent, but even through the haze of lust and frustration, anger welled inside me. I’d be damned if I let a man tell me I could or couldn’t cum.
I reclined my seat all the way back. “What’re you doing?
” he asked, his gaze darting to me as I lifted my feet to the dash.
I ignored him as I hiked my dark knit dress up to my hips, slipping my fingers between my legs.
The car swerved and he cursed. The spark of pleasure flared as I chased it.
I thought of the way his fingers had felt inside me back at Lovestruck, and copied him.
Slow at first and quickly picking up speed.
My core tensed, squeezing as I looked at him.
His side profile was still, his shoulders bunched, his knuckles white on the wheel.
Knowing I held that power over him, I came.
“Ethan,” I moaned.
“Fucking hell,” he bit out.
I swallowed, closing my legs as I dropped my feet to the ground. I smoothed my dress down with deliberate slowness.
“You could have given me that, been part of it, but you chose to punish yourself. And that’s fine. You don’t have to please me, but don’t think for a damn minute that you get to decide what happens to my body. I may be your mate, Ethan, but I’m your partner, or nothing at all.”
We drove the rest of the way in silence, and I was perfectly fine with that.