Page 61 of If You Dare

In all the times I imagined Wes’s mouth on my skin, it never felt this good.

I squirm beneath him, aching to claw at his hair, his biceps, but I dig my nails into the wood instead.

Wes drops my nipple with a small pop before moving on to the other. I bite down the cry and try my best to stay still. Letting him do what he wants to me.

His hand plunges down my skirt so suddenly, I jump. “You’re going to take everything I give you,” he orders.

“Yes,” I breathe.

His hand eases down into my panties until his finger scrapes along my clit. I suck in a breath. When he circles that sensitive spot, I moan.

Wes slaps a hand over my mouth. “Shut up. I don’t want to hear your fucking moans. This is for me, not you.”

My muscles and joints stiffen. I knew it. This isn’t desire or affection. This is something much more twisted.

Yet my knees are still jelly and I ache for him to do whatever he wants to me.

When he kneels before me, chills run down my body.

“Don’t make a fucking sound,” he warns.

“I won’t,” I whisper.

His mouth latches onto my thigh, hard. Nearly making it impossible to follow his order. I bite down on my lip to suppress the whimper that builds in my throat. My nails dig into the wood so deep, I know I’ll leave my mark. Just as Wes is leaving his mark on me.

He moves to my other thigh, sucking and nipping at my skin. I’m already weak for him, completely at his mercy, and he hasn’t even reached the throbbing spot between my legs. Bruises bloom on my skin, marking his trail.

“Wes,” I gasp.

“I told you to keep your mouth shut,” he snaps. “Now I have to punish you.”

I swallow, kicking myself. He’s going to deny me that pleasure again. Or inflict a new pain now that he has me in a vulnerable position.

Wes pulls my panties to the side and groans. That sound from him is nearly enough to make me combust.

“Violet,” he murmurs, and that fury is gone from his voice now. A tenderness to my name that I haven’t heard from him in months.

He blows gently on the apex of my thighs and I shudder. I want to beg him to touch me, to give me that pleasure I’m aching for, but I’m terrified to see what punishment he would have in store for me.

He plants a kiss on my clit, and I can’t help the whimper that escapes this time.

“You’re going to hate how good this feels.” His words make me stop breathing. “I’m going to be the first man to make you come, and when you think back on your first time, you’ll have to think of me. The man who scares you, and you like it.”

My mind spins, trying to digest every word from his mouth.Your first time. He plans on having sex with me? I shouldn’t. My first time shouldn’t be with a man who hates my guts. Who wants me dead. Who’s spent the last weeks of my life tormenting me.

Yet the thought of Wes inside me, fucking me in the stacks, only makes me want him more.

Something is wrong with me. But I don’t know if it’s Chloe’s death that changed me or if I’ve always had this darkness inside.

The man who scares you, and you like it.

He’s right. The fear coursing through my veins, knowing that Wes could do anything he wants to me, knowing that he could hurt me, sends a shot of adrenaline down my spine. Makes my heart race and the pleasure that much more delicious.

He thinks I’ll look back on this moment and not just hate him, but hate myself. Hate myself for wanting somebody who treats me so terribly. Hate myself for giving in to him.

The thing is, I can’t hate myself any more than I already do.

“Show me how much I’ll hate it,” I breathe.

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