He growls. “I want to ravage you. Rip your dress from your tight little body. I’d be in such a frenzy that I don’t even get my clothes off. I’d just pin you to the earth and shove my cock so deep inside you that I’d imprint myself on your DNA.”
I gasp, trembling.
His fingers dip down my waistband and into my panties, and he groans. “Still sticky from this morning.”
“I thought about this all day,” he breathes. “Knowing you were walking around with me still inside you.”
“Callum…I love this as much as you do, but we have to be careful after this. I’m not on birth control.”
“I know, baby. I would’ve thrown it away if you were. I don’t want there to be anything between us. When I fuck you deep and raw, I want to know I’m touching every part of you.”
He lifts the mask and slides it over his face, those purple Xs glowing faintly.
“Did you notice the color?”
I nod, dazed, but it doesn’t really click until he says, “The most perfect shade of lilac.”
CALLUM
Not fucking my girl while I had that mask on was the hardest thing I’ve ever done.
She was soft against me, moaning for more, letting me palm her tits while I whispered every filthy thought I’ve ever had into her ear. I could’ve taken her right there in front of the mirror, made her scream my name with my cock buried deep inside her. But I didn’t. Not because I didn’t want to, but because she deserves the world, and our first time is going to be everything.
It’s a special kind of torture, being the one to say no when every inch of me is screaming yes. But I want it to be more than just heat. I want it to be hers. Something she remembers, something she never doubts. I want to give her everything I never thought I could give anyone. So I take a cold shower that doesn’t do shit, grip the edge of the sink until my knuckles go white, and make myself wait.
Then I slip out into the hallway and call Elijah Moretti. He’s the one who procured the mask for me, and he still owes me a favor. He’s got connections that God would envy, so I’m hoping he can help me figure out what’s going on.
"Grey," Elijah answers, voice cold, sharp, and accented just enough to make him sound expensive. Despite being a college student, he looks and sounds like old money personified. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"
"Need you to look into something. Professor Whittaker. He owns the mansion we broke into a while back. I wanna know where he is now."
He chuckles low. "Ah, you're referring to the breaking-and-entering incident you texted me about without context."
"Cut the shit, E. Can you do it or not?"
He hums. "I can. But it'll cost you."
"I’ve done plenty for you." I roll my eyes. He’s such a pretentious prick with the temper of a Lockwood. It’s a deadly combination, but he gets shit done when no one else can.
"You’ve donejustenough. But I’m intrigued. I’ll look into it. Expect something by tomorrow. And Callum?" I can hear his smug smile that I know is stretched across his face.
"Yeah?" I huff, because I know him well enough to know it’s going to be something annoying, whatever he’s going to say.
Elijah chuckles."Try not to die. I like having you as a contact."
“You like having me in your pocket. Big difference,” I tell him.
"Semantics, Callum. Semantics,” Elijah says before he ends the call without a goodbye.
The air outside the rink is chilly, but I barely feel it. I lean against my truck, one boot crossed over the other, a bouquet of daisiesin my hand. I’m waiting to pick her up so we can head to her parents house to get this stupid meeting over with.
Lilac walks out laughing with a few of her teammates, ponytail bouncing, cheeks flushed from the cold. I notice Danny is walking with them, so I’ll have to remind myself to ask her about him later. He hasn’t been on campus since the night at the mansion, and there were rumors that he was so freaked out that he transferred. That’s the thing about elite colleges like Castlebrook, it doesn’t matter how much time you miss or what your grades are. All that matters is how much money is in your parents pockets. In my case, how much money I made doing jobs for my cousin Caiden and the Moretti brothers.
I can’t take my eyes off of Lilac. That little floral dress is too short, too flirty, and I fucking love it. Which means I hate it. Which means she’s getting my hoodie whether she likes it or not.
She stops short when she sees me. Her eyes widen, then crinkle with delight as she breaks away from the group and runs straight to me.
I catch her midair, spinning her once before crashing my mouth to hers. She tastes like sugar and coffee.
