Sordid (7 page)

The leather couch squeaked to match his slow rhythm. I couldn’t keep my eyes closed any longer. I stared blankly at the soft leather cushion back and tried to shut everything down. Like I could pretend he wasn’t on top of me, his dick surging inside my aching body, or his mouth latched onto my ear. With all that was happening, it was his uneven breath that became too loud to ignore.

“Does it still hurt?”

I gave him nothing. Not even my attention.

He’d asked me softly, but this time he sounded annoyed. “Answer me.”

No, not in a million years. I was done taking orders from him—

His hand on my jaw clenched and tugged my face to meet his. His eyes were chaos. Desire flashed and anger smoldered. He was devastating like this. Aggressive and predatory.

“If I’m hurting you and you don’t say anything, I’m going to keep hurting you and not know it.”

“What difference does it make?” I snapped. I was weak. My self-imposed silent treatment lasted all of a minute.

His eyes narrowed. His hand let go of my jaw and reached down, finding my knee. He pushed it up and back at the same moment he thrust deeply, and I gasped in pain.

“Does that hurt, or should I keep doing it?” he demanded, knowing full well it caused me pain. He was pushing me to respond to him, or punishing me for not answering sooner.

“It hurts.”

He looked strangely relieved as he released my knee and my wrists. I yanked my hands down and put them on his shoulders. I couldn’t push him off of me, so instead I drove my fingers into his flesh. The muscles along his jaw flexed, telling me he’d clenched his teeth, hopefully in pain.

“Ease up on the nails, or I’ll rethink letting go of your wrists.”

He shifted, rising up on his straightened arms. We were still connected at our lower bodies, but he had slowed to a snail’s pace. He glanced down, and issued a noise of surprise.

“Fuck, look at that.”

I’d told myself I wasn’t going to take orders from him, but it was unavoidable. My gaze went to where his was, and I swallowed hard.

There was dark blood smeared on his thick cock, which he pulsed in and out of me in long, languid strokes.

“So fucking sexy, seeing proof that you’re mine.”

This time when I dug my nails into him, it wasn’t to cause harm, it was simply a reaction. He thought I was his? The thought detonated in my mind like a mushroom cloud. I
was
. He’d linked himself to me forever with one dark act.

I found myself staring up into his coal-colored eyes, unsure of anything. Luka would always be my first. He’d pushed and taken, but maybe he had done me a tiny favor as well? Everyone I’d talked to confided their first time had been terrible. The girls said it hurt and they were glad that it was over and done with. Sex apparently felt much better after you’d done it a few times.

Wait, no. That was the dumbest thing ever.

His mouth hung slack as he moved against me, breathing heavy. Satisfaction streaked his face. In the low light, it played up the sharp angles of his nose and jaw. Why did he do this? Why did he stare at me like I was the most interesting thing he’d ever seen?

My eyes fluttered closed. This wasn’t a
favor
. Holy shit, I’d said no and he’d done it anyway. That was pretty clear-cut, wasn’t it?

His hot skin was against my chest and his hands noisily slid beneath me, scraping over the leather. His fingers splayed on my backside, tilting my hips, so when he pushed down into me this time, there was new contact.

“Oh,” I sighed, wishing instantly I could take it back. What the hell was wrong with me? Luka’s body ground against my clit, sending warm shivers up my spine. I wasn’t supposed to enjoy what he was doing.

His hands pushed and pulled, getting me to rock my hips against his. His tempo picked up until it was a steady pace, and the ache began to shift and give way to heat. My heart pounded furiously, but it matched his. I could feel his through my chest.

“That’s it,” he urged between short breaths. “Wrap your legs around me.”

The conflict inside my head was widening with each moment that passed. It was starting to feel good, and I marveled a little in my drunken state. I was having sex with the guy I’d been dreaming about for forever. Logic’s disapproving voice was rapidly dissipating into white noise.

Goosebumps exploded on my legs as I did what he said, and this time we both moaned together, although mine was more startled pleasure than his low, guttural moan. The slippery glide of his dick felt so different from what I’d expected. The fullness had started out uncomfortable, but it hadn’t stayed that way for long.

“Goddamnit,” he groaned, dragging out each syllable. His mouth was buried in the nook of my neck, licking and sucking. More goosebumps lifted on my skin.

When I began to pant, it kicked everything up a notch. I felt the effects of the alcohol stronger, and I felt deeper pleasure. Luka’s thrusts increased until he was driving into me. It hurt, but felt good at the same time, and I clutched at his back, not sure if I was clawing him to push him away, or hold him closer.

“Does it feel good?” His lips wandered over my cheekbone, my jaw, my mouth.

I couldn’t bring myself to say it. Something was obviously wrong with me, but I gave a quick, small nod. This time when he kissed me, I tentatively kissed him back. I’d pretend he was still the myth I’d believed he was until this night was over.

The muscles in his back corded and tensed. He crashed into me so hard the couch shook, and I gasped. Without prompting, I had to reach up and grab the armrest to brace myself. It was all that kept him from accidentally slamming my head into it.

“Fuck, shit,” he growled.

The tension in him grew ten-fold, and I watched, fascinated. He shuddered and closed his eyes, letting a look of intense pleasure overtake him, then abruptly he was backing up. He pulled out and his hot, wet dick was set in the hollow where my leg joined my body. He rocked it back and forth as he came. Warm drops flicked on my belly, hip, and skirt. He was throbbing on my skin while he exhaled loudly, sounding like he was falling apart.

His rocking came to a stop, and his breathing began to slow. It was an odd sensation when he left my body. The ache was significantly reduced, but the warmth and fullness I liked were gone as well.

“That was,” he whispered in my ear, “even better than I imagined it’d be.”

I sucked in a breath. “You thought about . . .?”

His serious demeanor slowly blinked back into place. “Fucking you? Of course I did. What did you think I was doing the whole time during class?”

He brushed his mouth across mine, almost too fast for it to count as a kiss, and pulled back from me. His gaze swept down along my body, then returned to mine. “Stay right there.”

It wasn’t a request. He climbed off the couch, tugging his undone pants up around his hips and strolled to the dark room off to the side. The resident advisor’s room came with a private bathroom. As the sink began to run, I tugged my bra back in place and pushed the hem of my skirt down to cover myself. I also attempted to button my blouse, but my fingers were shaking too badly. What had we just done?

The water shut off and rustling rang out, telling me he was doing up his pants, and it was followed by footsteps. I hurried to sit up, unsure what to do about the mess we’d made—

Luka had a handful of wet towels, and as he approached, his eyebrow arched. Was he mad I’d covered myself? He said nothing. He took a knee beside me on the couch and flung my skirt up, wiping the towel across my skin. I hissed at the touch—the towel was cold. But my face heated until it was on fire. He cleaned me up, his focused gaze between my legs, and then he moved on to the skirt. When he seemed satisfied, he ran the towel over the leather.

I was shaking in my core as he stood, disappeared once more into the bathroom, and returned. The utility belt was snatched off the floor and slung around his hips. Then, he crossed his arms and peered down at me. It was unnerving. Was he expecting me to say something? To do something? I grabbed the panties that clung to my ankle and stepped my other foot into the leg hole, and as I stood, I drew the panties upward.

My body ached, and I stood too fast.

Luka was there to catch me as I threatened to topple over, and I fell into his embrace. I felt sick with emotions, and didn’t like the feeling of his arms around me. No, worse. It was that I liked his arms holding me; that was what I disliked. He’d . . .
oh, God.

He’d
raped
me. Hadn’t he?

“Are you okay?”

I stiffened and fought to appear sober. “Yeah.”

I just needed to get away from him, and think about what my next step would be. Did I report this? Could I stomach going through all of that? Everyone would know how stupid I’d been to come up here alone with him. My mouth went dry. What if no one believed me?

His embrace closed in, pressing me against him. His thumb and forefinger grasped my chin and angled me up into his kiss. I was sure he could feel me trembling, and it was the reason his arms tightened around me. His mouth was gentle. Luka was trying to console me, yet it only made the word
no
swirl louder in my brain. I’d been captive under his power long enough.

I ended the kiss a little too soon for him, and his expression hardened a shade. His evaluating gaze was piercing, and I worried I’d fall apart beneath it. What was he thinking about? I didn’t have a clue what was going on behind those dark eyes.

“Sit,” he said. “I’ll be right back. I’m going to check on my brother and grab us some drinks.”

There wasn’t time to answer, not that it was a question. Luka pressed his body into mine, forcing me backward and down to sit on the couch.

My voice was flustered. “That’s okay, I should probably get back downstairs, too.”

“Not a chance.” He curled a hand behind my neck and tilted my head up to his as he lowered down into a kiss. “That was just the warm-up, Addison. When I get back, we’ll do it for real.”

I shuddered, even as my traitorous body responded to him. My nipples tightened at the idea.

But if I agreed to it, he’d leave, and I could use that opportunity to slip away. The party downstairs was loud and busy, and no one would notice me leaving. I’d probably be halfway back to my dorm before Luka realized what I’d done.

I attempted a timid smile. He gauged my expression, and looked satisfied when I didn’t protest, indicating I’d stay.

“Okay, gimme a minute, I’ll be right back.”

I watched him go, air fisted tight in my lungs. How long did I need to wait to make sure he was safely downstairs and in the kitchen? I metered out my shaky breath, forcing myself to stay calm.

One breath.

Another.

What if I stayed on the couch? What would happen?

It was the tequila, I was sure. I’d never drink it again, as it clearly made me insane. I had to get up and out of this room before he came back.

I was sore and rose gingerly.

My legs moved like they were made of lead. The wicked voice inside me asked if I was sure I wanted to leave, but I squashed it. I put one foot slowly in front of the other, and teetered to the door.

The hallway was empty. I stumbled on the thick carpet and almost fell into the wall, but was able to pull upright just in time. Christ, the liquor had knocked me on my ass. I was a fool not to eat something before coming to the party, and an even bigger one for doing those shots.

People congregated at the foot of the stairs, clenching their cups and shouting conversations at each other, oblivious of the slutty schoolgirl at the top, looking down on them. I clutched the wooden banister for added support. My drunk legs and high heels were a deadly combination on the stairs, and I had to focus on my feet as I went down to ensure I didn’t miss a step.

I was halfway to the bottom when the hairs on the back of my neck stood upright, making me hyperaware someone was watching me. I paused, and glanced up from my feet—

I’d waited two years to see his irritated expression directed at me, thinking it’d turn me on. Now Luka stood at the base of the steps waiting for me, a cup in each hand and a pissed off look splashed on his face. It didn’t turn me on.

It filled me with fear.

Chapter