Page 22 of Crush
“I’ll give you the pool, but you don’t own the damn school.”
“My family commands the whole of Winthorpe Academy. I’m surprised you’re not well aware of that by now.” Thorne leans down. “But we do so well in the water, don’t we?”
I aim for disgust—my lips curling, my nose wrinkling—as I push away, but my breasts tingle at his proximity, my core practically going electric.
The corners of his lips turn up. “You remember it well, don’t you?”
“Leave me alone. I’m trying to study.”
“You’re researching the wrong guy.” He flicks his gaze to my screen, glowering. “Need I remind you, you belong to me while you undergo Virtue training.”
I sit up straighter, my lips pulling tight. “I’m not an object, Thorne. You can’t just—”
“I can.” He hooks me under the chin, tightening his grip when I start to struggle. “You look at me. Speak to me. Bow to me. Not him. Understand?”
The scoff I’m aiming for comes out as an angry, strangled sound. “I don’t kneel to anyone.”
“Says the girl who’s stuck in a decrepit castle because her stranger of a father wills it so.”
My brows come down. “Don’t try to understand my life. It’s not a good look on you.”
He glares so hard, his eyelashes obscure the vibrancy of his eyes. Thorne jerks me in his hold, bringing my face closer. Then in an instant, he leans back, his features smoothing. “This is my fault. I haven’t taught you properly on obedience to your prince.”
“You’re not a real-life royal, Thorne!”
His eyes snap back to mine. “I’m the guy you pledged to, in charge of the Society you signed your soul to, and you continue to do as I say, like jump off cliffs. If that doesn’t make me your prince, then it certainly makes me your keeper.”
I protest in his grip, but he only holds me tighter. “Lesson one, little pretty. I’m the only guy you pay attention to. If I see you mooning over Zeke again, you’ll pay.”
“I wasn’t—”
“I don’t care. You don’t smile for him. Ever.”
“You don’t even like me. Why does it even matter?”
Thorne pretends to ponder my statement, all the while leaving imprints on my neck. “Like has such broad meaning. I don’t like you, per se, but I love your scent. The way you pretend to glare at me. How you taste.” He lowers his eyelids, and his voice turns into a low purr. “Second lesson in obedience: your pleasure is all mine, too.”
My eyes stretch wide as his lower, his attention scraping like curious talons against my school-issued skirt. “Thorne…”
Ignoring me, he lifts his gaze to scan the room, likely noting the lack of students wanting to use their free period in a long-lost computer lab when they have their phones stashed in their lockers. I should’ve thought of that. Except I wanted peace. Quiet. I was desperate for the ability to use electronics without Malcolm tracking me, pondering over my interest in Zeke Aiden.
I’m not crushing on him, though. My curiosity was piqued. How could it not be, with that kind of charisma and confidence? And he’s a celebrity. I’d never met one of those before.
If Thorne only knew where my thoughts really lie … and that when I pleasure myself in private, I think of him.
My eyes must transmit the direction of my thoughts because Thorne narrows his focus and pushes between my legs. Then he bends down.
“What are you doing?” I whisper, despite no one being around to hear. Sounds in the hallway echo off the walls, growing faded as students pass by.
“Bringing you to heel.” He brushes his lips against the inside of my bare thigh, and I shiver.
“Thorne, that’s not … I don’t…” But I lose all ability to speak when his lips hit my center.
Thorne tests his tongue against my panties, and I swallow a moan. His hands move under my ass, cupping my cheeks, making me squirm against the chair.
It brings me closer.
I tip my head back as he noses my underwear, breathing deep. “Fuck, you’re addicting.”