Page 40 of Devious Knight
When I finished my training I looked into it a little more. I can’t hack a system like Dmitri can but I can do things like check the school records.
Isabelle has an interview with the Lord Chancellor on Monday and that sculpture she’s working on is the last thing she needs to get into Cambridge.
There’s no doubt they’ll accept her when they see it.
I’m not the kind of guy who appreciates art but even I have to compliment her work. What she’s done is a masterpiece. And no matter what I feel about Isabelle even I have to acknowledge how talented she is.
The sculpture looks like it could have been done by any one of the great artists this world has ever seen.
It’s of a girl running through a meadow, and everything has been done with such precision I’m having a hard time believing it’s not a real person. The only thing that shows its inanimate nature is the total white color.
Since the sculpture is roughly twelve feet tall Isabelle has to stand on a ladder to work on it. That also gives me a view of her long legs and her round ass.
After a few minutes she climbs down the ladder and grabs her thermos from the table. But it seems that the lid wasn’t on properly so the drink spills all over her sweater when she goes to open it.
“Damn it,” she hisses under her breath, her voice piercing the still silence.
Cautiously she looks toward the main window, probably checking to see if I’m there, or the others.
I’m in the alcove by the archway and the window I’m looking through is covered by darkness, so she wouldn’t be able to see me even if she tried.
Tonight isn’t one of those nights when I want her to see me. Instead I want her to feel me.
Once she seems satisfied that I’m not around, she takes off her sweater.
At the sight of massive tits in a lacy purple bra my fucking dick hardens, feeling like it might pop.
She’s what you call a late bloomer, so when I first met her, her chest was almost flat. By senior year her body started changing and guys started noticing her more. I started noticing her.
Summer came and went, then college started and she arrived looking like this. Like a goddess. Walking temptation in a Lolita doll dress.
By the time she walks over to her locker and takes out a black sweater, I’m pitching a tent. And my arousal doesn’t go away when she covers up.
The state of my dick gives me a very rude awakening, with a truth I loathe more than anything.
I want her. It’s a truth I can’t deny. No matter how badly I want to.
It’s a fucking truth I’ve always known. Right from the moment I first saw her all those years ago. But given what I know about her, wanting her was never a problem I expected to have.
Maybe it’s the closeness, the constant watching her after trying to avoid her for so long. Then I made the mistake of touching her.
I put the blame on all of it. Everything I’ve done in these few short weeks has made me want to do more with her body than simply screw with her mind.
I want to fuck her.
I mustn’t.
No matter what the fuck emotion messes with me, I must never get that close.
Isabelle drinks some water then returns to working on the sculpture for another hour before she climbs back down the ladder and studies her work.
“You’re looking good, lady. We’re all done now. Here’s hoping you get me to England.” Her voice is filled with the desperate kind of hope you hear in a person who’s eager to live their life and be free.
The same hope fills her beautiful autumn-colored eyes and at that moment the darkness inside me whispers a truly, truly wicked idea. The whispers grow louder and the idea takes shape in my devious, twisted mind.
Isabelle packs up her things and leaves, taking the long, safer way back to her apartment. The way that’s not through the woods.
I head back to Erebus with this new idea singing in my head.