Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 94874 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 474(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94874 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 474(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
I groan when he pushes the digit back inside my tight hole. This time, the sting is less of a bite than previously. When his fingers caress my outer lips, I push my ass back, trying to get closer. The movement sends his thumb deeper. The way he teases my flesh makes more pleasure bloom inside. I’m so close to coming that it’s painful.
When his thumb and fingers move in tandem, filling me at the same moment before retreating and then surging forward again, I lose it and scream out my orgasm. Kingsley doesn’t let up on the onslaught until every last ounce of delirium has been wrung from me and I collapse, my body sinking into the lounger as my eyelids droop. I’m almost dizzy as the last waves of ecstasy dissolve.
When Kingsley finally eases his fingers from my body, he gives my ass a sharp slap. My eyes snap open, but I can’t work up the energy to glare. All I want to do is sleep.
“Come on, let’s go,” he says impatiently, rising to his full height. “Fifth hour starts in twenty minutes. I don’t want to be late.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” I grumble, rolling to my side. “I’m taking a mental health day.”
“The hell you are.” He reaches around, tugging something from his back pocket before tossing it next to me.
With a frown, I pick up the material.
It’s another white shirt.
The words—If found, return to K. Rothchild are stamped across the chest.
“Oh, and make sure you wear a bra. I don’t want anyone else looking at those pretty little titties.”
Grrrrr!
Chapter Twenty-Five
My feet slow when I find Kingsley lounging against the locker next to mine. For a moment, I allow my gaze to crawl over him while he’s unaware. His dark head is bent as he stares down at the phone gripped in his hand. His nose is a bit crooked as if it’s been broken and his lips are full. A perfect cupid’s bow. A shudder scuttles down my spine as I remember where those lips had been a few short hours ago.
With the navy blazer, white shirt, and perfectly pressed tan pants, he’s prep school hot.
I should hate him, not crave him. He’s forcing me to do things I don’t want to be doing.
Liar! You love the way he touches you.
I’m knocked out of those disturbing thoughts as people push past me. A few give me a bit of side eye as they continue on their way, but no one utters a peep.
That’s Kingsley’s doing.
In this realm, his word is law.
It may have taken some time, but I understand that now.
As if realizing that he’s being watched from a distance, Kingsley glances up. His gaze fastens onto mine as heat leaps to life in his eyes. In a few short days, I’ve learned to decipher his expressions. This one tells me he’s thinking about what we did earlier and if given half a chance, he’ll do it again.
My breath gets trapped in my throat as I recall the way it made me feel.
Like a sexual deviant.
If I close my eyes, I can almost feel the insistent way his thumb caressed the tight ring of muscle before pushing inside. A hot punch of arousal hits me in the core and my panties dampen as if on command.
It’s so wrong. Six short hours ago, I could have never imagined someone touching me so intimately and yet I allowed it to happen. Barely did I put up a fuss.
What the hell had I been thinking?
A dangerous pattern has emerged. Whenever Kingsley lays his hands on me, all rational thought leaks from my ears and I become nothing more than a walking hormone.
Neither of us move. It’s as if we’re both frozen in time and place. His expression changes, eyes becoming shuttered. The window allowing me a rare glimpse inside has now been slammed shut. What bothers me most is that I have no idea if this is anything more than a game. Last week, his hatred had been palpable. And now...
I don’t know.
If I were smart, I would fortify and protect myself against his onslaught. It’s only been a few days and look at me...
I can’t stop thinking about him.
Craving him.
All these turbulent thoughts swirl around my head as I push out a breath and force my feet to close the distance between us. His gaze stays pinned to mine as if he’s capable of picking through the thoughts in my brain. Instead of allowing him the access, I look away and pretend to busy myself by twisting the combination of my lock.
When he remains silent, a shot of anxiety spikes inside me and I clear my throat. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m going to take you home.”
Spending more time alone with Kingsley isn’t smart. Already he’s messing with my head.