Devil Incarnate (Boys of Preston Prep #4) - Angel Lawson Page 0,95

someone to hurt you?” He catches my wrist before my fist meets his chest, eyes boiling. “That’s for me to do. Not some stupid Freshman fuck, and not you. Me.”

“I’m not your punching bag, either,” I snipe back, even though his words have my thighs pressing together, desperate for any sort of friction.

“This isn’t about me wanting a punching bag,” he snaps, eyes flashing. “I know how you like it, how to hide it, and when to stop. This?” He yanks my skirt up, revealing the wound I’d just made. “This is some crazy, unhinged bullshit. You obviously can’t hold yourself back when you’re like this. I can.”

I tear my skirt out of his grip, covering my thigh. “Why do you even care?”

He holds my gaze for a suspended moment, the muscle in the back of his jaw ticking. Instead of answering, he says, “If I find you doing this shit again, that’s it. I’m done fucking you.”

My mouth parts, half in shock, but half in alarm, too. He’s a jerk, and maybe I am ashamed of this thing we’re doing—maybe it eats me up inside a little—but for all that conflict, he’s right. Heston knows this fucked up, twisted thing controlling me. He understands it. He knows how to navigate it, how to bat it down to something manageable. No one else could ever get it. I’d never let them.

I look at him, knowing my lip is trembling with the tears welling up, unbidden. “I just wanted it to stop.”

His forehead creases, but the moment of confusion is brief, wiped away almost instantly. “Jesus Christ,” he mutters, eyes going to the door before landing back on mine. “I told you it doesn’t work that way.” His voice is tight with barely veiled frustration, but his lips are already back on mine, and this isn’t like the kiss before. This one is slow, guided by the palm he cups my cheek with. He doesn’t close his eyes, holding me there, watching me as his lips work against mine.

I hate the knowledge that I’d beg for it.

He doesn’t make me. “It’ll have to be quick,” he says, reaching for the button on his pants. “And quiet.”

I turn around so fast my head spins, reaching beneath my skirt to shove my panties over my hips. His hands are faster, though, fingers hooking in the waistband and dragging them down to my knees.

“Stop,” he says when I squirm impatiently back into him, so full of some unholy mixture of need and anticipation that I’m shaking. He grabs my hip, stilling me. “Calm down. I’ve got you.”

It’s a miracle I don’t scream when he slides inside me.

I sob at the way he enters me, slow and drawn out, hands holding my hips in place so I can’t shove back into the hard, thick length of him. There’s a puff of breath against my neck and then he shushes me, the sound far too gentle and soothing for the way he’s holding me, fingertips bruising.

“You like that, huh?” He pulls his hips back, letting his dick slip out, and I bite back a perturbed whine. He shushes me again, lining himself back up and sliding inside once more. The sound he makes is gruff, almost as agonized as I feel. His fingers pull my hair away from my neck, making room for his hot, dirty mouth. “You want to be pissed at me? Fine. But when you need this—” He wraps my hair around his fist, tugging in opposition to the thrust of his hips. “—you come to me. Swallow your fucking pride and get some dick. You understand me?”

I nod, but I can barely focus on anything but the sweet drag of his cock and the way he feels, all curled around me like I’m some curiously precious project. “Fine, yes. Okay.”

He rewards me with a sharp punch of his hips, burying a soft, guttural sound into the increasingly damp skin of my neck. It feels like we’re fucking right beside a boiler, a bead of sweat making an itchy track down the small of my back.

I can tell by the way he’s breathing—these short little grunts of breath—that he’s lost in the motion of our bodies. I take the opportunity to make some demands of mine. “Our agreement was that I’m entitled to kissing,” I growl, shoving my hips back into him. “Never fucking do that again. Do you understand me?”

His response is to grab my chin and wrench it to the side,