Victory at Prescott High (The Havoc Boys #5) - C.M. Stunich Page 0,115

of my pain, all of my questioning, any lingering doubts that I might’ve had.

His tongue parts my lips like a spoken order, like he really is a king and I’m a loyal subject desperate to obey. Why I feel like this around him, I’m not sure, but I like it. When I’m with Victor, I don’t have to worry or wonder. He’ll take care of me, of us, of everything. In his arms, that’s where I feel the safest.

“Is there anything you need?” I whisper, trembling as he bands his strong fingers around my upper arms, making dents in the heather gray sleeves of the jacket.

Victor takes a deep breath, closes his eyes, and then opens them again, unleashing the hurricane force of his stare on me.

“You.”

The towel around his hips drops to the floor as he steps back to examine me in the uniform, swiping his hand over his face with a curse. His temper is barely restrained right now. I can see the edges of it in the veins in his arms and neck, a muscle working in his jaw as he struggles to keep that beast restrained.

For now.

First chance he gets to launch it at Ophelia, and she isn’t making it out of this city with a pulse.

“The uniform really cinches the deal, doesn’t it?” he whispers, eyes sparkling, and I can’t decide if he asked me to put it on just because he’s a fucking perv who wants to nail me in what’s essentially a Catholic schoolgirl uniform (although Oak Valley Prep has no religious affiliation) or if it’s something else, something more. Proof that he can take care of me. Proof that he can raise us all up. Proof that this will all be worth it in the end. “You look every bit as aristocratic as Trinity Jade. Or Ophelia. More so, actually.”

“Should I add the crown?” I whisper back, feeling that intensity between us stretch and quiver and pull, my obsession feeding into his obsession until we’re just an endless loop of need and want and possession. Victor Channing is mine, and I don’t care about the fake fiancée charade we have to keep up: I’m going to remind every student on this campus at every opportunity I can that I can kiss Vic, fuck Vic, own Vic whenever I goddamn well please.

Trinity is going to hate me for it.

“The crown would definitely add to the appeal,” Victor growls, stepping forward and sliding his hands up and underneath my skirt to cup my ass. “But I’m not about to let you leave to go look for it. You asked if I needed you? Well, I do.”

He drops one of his big hands between my thighs, lightly stroking up the seam of my cunt. He finds it easily, even with the barrier of my panties between us. I’m already wet, soaking the fabric and making him grumble in pleasure at the damp feeling against his calloused fingers. Because he’s an animal, because he’s the basic, primal male to the wild, unrestrained female inside of me, he can’t resist tugging the fabric of my underwear aside to get to my bare cunt.

With heavy bedroom eyes, Victor drinks me in, slicking a single finger between my folds and groaning when he feels exactly how hot and slick I am between the thighs. His cock pulses and throbs with the need to fill me up, to conquer that space and make it his own. I can’t seem to look away as he slips two fingers inside of me, making my lips part with a pleasured sigh as my head falls back against the wall.

It’s obscene really, to fuck in this uniform before I’ve even attended a single class in it, but what can I do? My boss needs me, doesn’t he? My husband. The king to my queen.

When Victor withdraws his hand from my panties, I almost scream. He smirks at me, like he can sense exactly how I’m feeling as he adjusts his grip from my most private parts to his own, using my lube to slick his fist up and down the length of his swollen cock.

“I know all the things you say about me,” he says, almost as if it’s a challenge, a smirk building on his mouth as he regains that control, pulling it around himself like a blanket. Watching it happen is nothing short of miraculous.

“What things?” I query back, my cheeks flushed, my nipples so hard that the lace of my bra