Chapter 23

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Wyn

I'm beyond pissed.

The perverted fuck took me to the brink twice and denied me release both times. Then he had the audacity to finish himself on my chest. And now I have to wear it for a full day? Or what…face punishment?

If I'm being honest, I wish he would have just finished me, instead of pulling out. My entire body feels like it's on fire, my clit burning with the intense need for release.

If I hated him before, I fucking despise him now.

Two can play his twisted games.

My right hand moves to my chest and I touch the sticky pool of cum. I can feel with the tips of my fingers that it was a huge load and I coat my fingers with it, then bring it to my lips. My tongue darts out and I take a taste.

I hear a groan from across the room and I smile to myself. Boys. So damn predictable. I take another sample of his cum, then I spread my thighs wide, and touch my cum-coated fingers to my throbbing clit.

With my other hand, I reach up and grab my breast roughly, pinching my nipple between my fingers as I do it. Sharp pain spikes through me and I arch into it.

"Mmm," I moan, my tongue darting out to lick my bottom lip. The taste of his cum still fills my mouth, driving the clawing need that's gathering again in my pussy.

In three seconds flat, his cock will be inside me. Guaranteed. I'd put my last twenty dollars on it.

I can hear my floor creak as he paces, a low growl reverberates from somewhere across the room. He's watching me. I have him exactly where I want him.

I'm no stranger to masturbation, and I can make myself come lightening quick. It's like brushing my teeth. I'm a pro. But this time, I deliberately draw my pleasure out. My fingers apply just enough pressure, my circles slow and measured.

My knees fall apart and I use the blunt nails of my free hand to scrape over my breasts, leaving a pleasant little sting in their wake. "Ahhh," I gasp. "Ohhh."

The mattress dips at the foot of the bed, and I know I've got him.

"You fucking tease," he mutters angrily, shoving my hand aside. He enters me with one forceful thrust, the fabric of his pants brushing against the backs of my thighs.

My legs curl around him as he pounds into me, shoving the headboard against the wall with each violent jerk of his hips. Holy shit . He's angry and he's so deep it's painful, slamming against my cervix like he's determined to get past it. But that pain opens me up and mingles with pleasure in a way that takes my breath away.

I gasp and tilt my head back, my eyes fluttering closed behind the blindfold. " Oh, my God ," I gasp, tears rolling down the side of my face.

"That's it, baby. Take this cock like a good girl." His face is close to mine, his words muffled, so I know he's still wearing his mask. But his smug tone pissed me off, and I reach up to slap him, but I manage to get a handful of soft fabric instead. I pull at it in a frenzy, trying to get to his face, trying to inflict damage.

With a low chuckle, he grabs my wrist and pulls it aside roughly while he's still pounding into me. He doesn't even skip a beat. "You can't hurt me, baby. I'm so much stronger than you."

Stronger maybe, but not smarter.

He releases me and my hands move to his back. I sink my nails in, pulling them down the muscles flexing as he pumps into me. I dig in as hard as I can, using him as an anchor.

"Fuck, yes, " he growls. "This tight pussy is going to make me come again."

Images of his milky white cum flood my mind and all of that building pressure inside me erupts instantly, drowning me in sensation. My channel grips his cock, strangling it, and he stiffens. I can feel his cock pulse inside me as he fills me with his cum. The sensations are so strong, so intense, my entire body trembles.

When it's all over, I melt into the mattress and suck in several long breaths to try and get my heart rate under control. My muscles are still shaking from the rush of adrenaline.

Goddamn, I don't think I've ever come that hard in my entire life.

He moves off me, and I can feel him stand up. The floorboards creak as he moves around doing God knows what. And I just lay there, trying desperately to catch my breath. My limbs feel boneless, like jelly.

I listen as he gathers his things. He's not saying anything, which is unusual. He's usually barking orders or making outright demands, so this silence is weird. Uncomfortably weird.

I can hear him walk to the front door and pull it open. He pauses for a second and I wish I could see his face. Is he angry? Shocked? Disgusted? A second later, I hear his heavy footsteps as he walks out.

The door clicks shut, and darkness washes over me, almost like…emptiness. I tear the blindfold off and sink back against my pillows.

That orgasm was… incredible . But more importantly, it proved something to me. At the end of the day, my stalker is just a mere mortal, like the rest of us. And worse than that, he's a guy . And guys can be manipulated, for better or for worse.

For a second, I consider taking a shower, but the masked man's edict that I leave his cum on my body kinda kills that idea.

I could wash it off anyway, though. I mean, fuck him, right? But even as that defiance bubbles up inside me, I decide I'm too tired to get up. Readjusting the pillows under my head, I close my eyes and let the darkness envelop me…

The alarm on my phone wakes me abruptly.

With a yawn, I stretch and open my eyes, reaching over to grab my phone so I can turn the alarm off.

The room is flooded with bright light and I realize I must have opened the curtains at some point. When? I search my memory, remembering the masked man from last night. When he popped up, the curtains were closed. I know that for sure, because he was cast in shadow, except for a tiny sliver of light that was peeking in.

And I didn't touch the curtains after he left.

I sit up, blinking, and see Lucas sitting in a chair that he must have pulled in from the patio. It had to come from there because my place isn't even big enough for a little breakfast table. I usually just eat on my bed while I'm watching something on my computer.

He's leaning back in the chair, arms crossed over his chest, and he's glaring at me like he's pissed. His eyes drop from my face to my breasts, and that's when I realize I'm completely naked. I reach for a pillow to cover myself up. For a second I wonder how he got in, but then I remember I gave him a key.

"Where the fuck have you been?" I ask.

His electric blue eyes wander over me, and I don't know why, but it feels like a critique somehow. "I stepped out," he says like he's annoyed I'm even asking.

"Obviously," I say, narrowing my eyes. "And conveniently , I might add."

His mouth tightens, and he returns my glare. "What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

He must think I'm an idiot. He comes here to "guard" me, then suspiciously disappears right before the stalker shows up? Is he my stalker? The second that thought pops up, I dismiss it. He hates me. I can see the disdain in his eyes even now.

But…maybe he's helping my stalker? It would make sense. Why else would he agree to babysit me, unless he wanted to make it easier for this guy to come and go?

"Are you helping him?" I ask, purposely giving him no context whatsoever.

"Him who? " he asks, his brows pinched together in confusion.

I scoff. So it's going to be like that. "Go ahead, deny it. Whatever."

Grabbing for the comforter, I pull it around me and walk over to my dresser to grab some clothes—panties, a bra, short shorts, and a pink tank top—then lock myself in the bathroom.

My first instinct is to step into the shower and wash the previous night off my body, but the memory of the masked man's words come flooding back…

You'll wear my cum all day tomorrow like a badge of honor…Do you understand?

It galls me that he feels like he can dictate what I do, but honestly…I have enough shit going on, I don't need to incite this asshole's anger, too.

When I emerge from the bathroom a few minutes later, fully dressed, Lucas is leaning against my kitchen counter, arms crossed over his broad chest, scowling at me. There are two paper coffee cups and a couple of pastry bags on the counter next to him.

"You can leave," I say, grabbing my phone and a water bottle from the fridge. "There's really no point in you being here when you're just going to fucking disappear in the middle of the night anyway."

As I'm shutting the fridge, his hand darts out, and he grabs my wrist. "Where are you going?"

I blow out a frustrated breath. "I'm going to class," I say, annoyed. "You know, that higher education thing we all pretend to do here? Some of us can't afford to just fuck off."

I mean, damn, half the buildings on campus were built by the West family, going back several generations. The newest building, in fact, sleek, beautiful made of steel and glass is named after Lucas' dad—the Jonathan West Building of Physics. Even one of the campus residence halls is theirs.

"I'll take you to campus," he says stoically.

I pull my hand out of his grip and point at him. "No, you won't. I can make it on my own."

The only reason I wanted him here was to prove I wasn't losing my mind. But he's already proven himself useless in that regard.

I don't fucking need him–especially since I suspect he's in on this Gabriel weirdness.

"There's a meeting at Rush House tonight for all active members," he says.

"Fine," I say, shoving my water bottle into my backpack before slinging it over my shoulder. "I'll stop by after my classes."

And then maybe I can talk to the other Sacred Sons about the absolute absurdity of having this fool shadow me…