Chapter 27 – Billie #3
"You're a virgin," he says. Not a question.
"Don't make it weird."
"I'm definitely not going there." He says it with such absolute certainty that I almost believe he means it. His jaw is tight, every muscle in his body coiled like he's fighting a war with himself. "Not in a school bathroom. Not like this."
I roll my eyes. Of course I've got a vendetta against the one Fae alpha with a modicum of control over his dick. He couldn't go and make slaying him easy.
"Then what was the point of—"
"I said I wouldn't fuck you in a bathroom." His smile returns, slow and devastating, and his hands slide back up my thighs with renewed purpose. "I didn't say there weren't other things we could do."
Oh.
He drops to his knees.
The sight of Prince Corvinus Luxellier, heir to the Seelie throne, kneeling on the bathroom floor between my legs does something to my brain that I'm not ready to analyze. Not now, maybe not ever.
His fingers hook into the waistband of my underwear, and he pauses, looking up at me with those impossible eyes. Asking permission. The most powerful Fae prince alive, asking me for permission.
And I actually want to give it.
I nod, because my voice has apparently left the building.
He pulls them down my legs slowly, folding them—the psychopath—and setting them on the counter beside me. Then his hands are on my knees, spreading them wider, and the cool air against my core makes me shiver.
"If you want me to stop," he says, his breath warm against my inner thigh, "say the word."
"If you don't start, I'm going to kick you in the face."
He laughs, low and dark, and then his mouth is on me and I stop thinking entirely.
The first stroke of his tongue pulls a sound out of me that I will deny making until the day I die.
My hand flies to his hair, fisting in those white strands, and I feel him groan against me. The vibration sends sparks up my spine and I arch off the counter, my other hand gripping the edge of the sink hard enough that my knuckles go white.
He's good at this.
He's obscenely good at this, and I hate him for it. I hate myself even more for being jealous thinking about all the practice he's had, and wondering if it was with any of the other omegas on this campus.
What the fuck, inner omega?
Time to schedule that lobotomy.
His hands grip my thighs, holding me open and steady when my legs start to shake.
My head tips back against the mirror and I stare at the ceiling, counting the tiles out of pure desperation. Five across. Five down. Twenty-five. The pattern grounds me for exactly two seconds before he does something with his tongue that makes the numbers scatter like startled birds.
"Fuck," I gasp, and his grip on my thighs tightens.
He's relentless. And he's patient in a way that's almost cruel, building me up with long, slow strokes before pulling back just enough to make me chase it.
Every time I get close, he eases off, and fuck the mission, I'm going to murder him.
I'm going to murder him right now with my thighs wrapped around his head, and wouldn't that be a fitting end for a prince.
"Corvinus." His name comes out broken, desperate, and I don't even have the presence of mind to be embarrassed. "If you don't—"
He sucks my clit into his mouth, and the orgasm smacks me in the face harder than anyone in Isabella's bitch crew has the muscle tone to dream of.
My vision whites out. My back arches so hard I nearly slide off the counter, and only his hands on my hips keep me from crashing to the floor. The sound I make is sort of a hybrid between a moan and a sob, loud enough that anyone in the hallway would definitely hear it.
I don't even give a shit. For five, maybe ten glorious seconds, I don't care about anything.
Then reality reminds me she exists, and I remind myself that was an absolutely mission-oriented orgasm. Yep. Completely on the books.
Corvinus rises to his feet, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand in a gesture that's somehow both crude and elegant.
Then he licks his fingers, which is absolutely obscene.
His eyes are darker than before, pupils blown wide, and there's a flush across his cheekbones that makes him look almost human.
"You taste like candy, little hunter."
"You—" I start, but I don't get to finish.
"Am I interrupting, dear brother?"
The voice settles over the room like frost. We both turn to find Caelyx leaning in the doorway, one shoulder propped against the frame, arms crossed over his chest. Those crimson eyes are fixed on his brother with a look so murderous I have no idea how the prince hasn't figured out this guy is trying to kill him.
It's painfully fucking obvious.
Almost as obvious as what we've been doing with my panties folded on the sink and Corvinus wearing my scent like a face mask.
How fucking long has he been standing there?
Corvinus straightens, his expression turning guarded but not nearly as much as it probably should be. "Caelyx. I didn't realize you'd taken to lurking in bathrooms."
"I didn't realize you'd taken to defiling omegas in them." Caelyx's voice is silk, but there's a knife underneath. He hasn't moved from the doorway, but his presence fills the room in a way that's different from Corvinus's. Like gravity doesn't quite work right wherever he happens to be.
I tug my skirt down, cheeks burning, and slide off the counter. My legs are still shaky, which is mortifying on multiple levels. I reach for my underwear, but Corvinus gets there first, slipping them into his pocket with a smirk that I want to slap off his face.
"Give those back," I hiss.
"Later."
"Now."
"Children," Caelyx says, and the word drips with contempt. He still hasn't taken his eyes off Corvinus, and there's a tension between them that goes beyond sibling rivalry. This is some primal alpha territorial bullshit thing. The kind that ends with someone bleeding.
But Corvinus doesn't seem to notice. Or if he does, he doesn't give a shit. He actually smiles at Caelyx, warm and genuine, like he's happy to see him.
"Brother," Corvinus says, and there's genuine affection in the word, unlike the way Caelyx says it. "You've been scarce lately. I was starting to worry."
He means it. The stupid idiot actually means it.
Corvinus has no idea. No fucking idea that the brother he's smiling at wants him dead. That the warmth he's offering is being received by someone who'd use it as kindling.
"I've been busy," Caelyx says, his smile not reaching his eyes. "Clearly, so have you."
"Billie and I were just—"
"I can see what you were just." Caelyx pushes off the doorframe, and the temperature drops. He's taller than Corvinus by maybe an inch, and right now he's using every bit of that height advantage. "A word of advice, brother. Be careful what you taste. Some things are sweeter than they should be."
Corvinus's brow furrows slightly, confusion flickering across his features before he smooths it away.
"Always so cryptic," Corvinus says lightly. He reaches out and clasps Caelyx's shoulder, a gesture of fraternal affection that makes Caelyx's jaw clench so hard I can see the muscle jump. "You should join us for dinner this week. Tallon's been asking about you."
"Perhaps." Caelyx's gaze slides to me for the first time, and whatever's in those red eyes makes my blood run cold. "Take care of yourself, Miss Moreau."
Then he's gone, dissolving into the hallway like he was never there.
Corvinus watches the empty doorway for a moment, a rueful smile on his lips when he turns back to me. "He's always been like that. I keep hoping..."
He trails off, shaking his head. And I see it clearly now, the thing that makes Corvinus so dangerous and so vulnerable at the same time. He loves his brother. Genuinely, stupidly loves him. Sees the sharp edges and thinks they're just armor protecting something worth reaching.
He has no idea the armor is all there is.
And I have no way of knowing if that frigid stalker routine was just part of the show we're selling Corvinus, or if he really is pissed I took things into my own hands.
Or rather… Corvinus did.
Fuck.
"I need to go," I say, and my voice comes out steadier than expected given that I just had an orgasm on a bathroom sink. "I need... space. To think about…" I paused, waving my hand in the air before I add, "this."
For once, he doesn't argue. Instead, he nods, something almost tender in his expression.
"Of course." He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, and I let him, because his tongue has already been all over my pussy and that seems like an odd place to draw the line. "Take all the time you need."
I grab my bag and leave without looking back. My legs carry me through the hallway on autopilot, past students who stare and whisper, past buildings I barely register.
The dorm room is empty when I get there. Olivia must still be in class, which means I have the space to myself. I lock the door, kick off my boots, and collapse face-first onto my bed.
The pillow smells like vanilla. Olivia's spray, contaminating everything on my side of the room no matter how many times I ask her to keep it contained. Drowning out Corvinus's scent.
I press my face into it and scream.
It doesn't help.
Neither does remembering Corvinus still has my fucking panties.