Page 42 of Pretty Secrets

I keep my voice low. “God, I hate her.”

Oliver says nothing. A quick check-in with him, and I find his cheeks pinched like he’s about to explode, so I know we’re on the same page. Anne-Marie is a cunt. That’s all there is to it.

Only, when we get inside the building that houses our first class for the day, Oliver immediately grips my hand and pulls, dragging me under the first stairwell. The area is steeped in shadow, which only highlights the dark look on his face when he peers down at me.

“What are you doing?” I hiss, wondering if he’s taking this watch thing too far. Did he see a Knight? He probably didn’t need to barricade me in here with all these people still around.

The noise in the nearby halls is still loud with foot traffic—people talking about their upcoming classes or what they did last night. When Oliver presses in on me, though, my world is reduced to the area surrounding us, as if we’re in a bubble. “You like the bad boys, huh? You want to get down on your knees for them?”

It takes me a moment to understand what he’s talking about. Fuck. He’d seen more of the video than I’d thought.

“Oliver…”

“No, don’t,” he growls, his rough voice intoxicating. His hand moves to my hip, pressing into the indentation there and forcing me flat against the wall. “You’re mine. You always have been. Open your eyes, your ears, your senses…” He leans in, his hot breath hitting my neck. He drags his lips down my sensitive skin and bites the soft curve that leads to my shoulder.

I gasp, not expecting that from Oliver, my best friend.

“I fight for the things I want,” he grinds out, forcing his hips into mine so I can feel his erection. “When I’m through, you’ll be begging to drop to your knees for me.”

My mouth suddenly dry, I swallow. My heart beats an erratic rhythm in my chest, like it doesn’t know whether it should be excited, angry, or turned off. But my core knows exactly what it wants. My body went straight past the smoldering phase and into a rushing inferno.

He licks across the bite he just made, and a groan passes my lips that I can’t hold back.

“That’s right,” he praises, breathing me in. His chest scrapes against my sensitive nipples.

“The difference between him and me is that he’s a taker, and I’m a giver.”

Oliver grips my skirt in his hand and hikes it up. The rush of cold air feels even more frosty as it collides with the heat of my skin. Splaying his hand across my thigh and dragging it upward, he brings goosebumps along with him. He maneuvers his fingers between my legs and directly to my nub, using the friction from my panties to drive me crazy.

“I know your body. I know how much you love clit play and how wet you must be right now, wondering what I’ll do next. Will I drop to my knees and play London Bridge?” My own limbs start to shake, and he chuckles. “Will I just take you right here where anyone can watch?”

“Oliver,” I plead. Part of me knows I should be telling him to stop, but I can’t. It feels too good.

He shifts his knee between my legs and forces me to ride it with a quick tug. I rock into him as he swirls over my clit, my body taking over as I use Oliver’s thigh. I just can’t get enough. A whimper escapes my throat at the need barreling through me. I need more.

“I’m right here. I got you,” he says, untucking my shirt. He sneaks his hand under my bra and lifts. A flash of cold air hits my skin before his hot mouth takes in my nipple.

“Fuck, Ollie. More.”

“You’re so wet,” he says around a mouthful of my flesh. “You’re gushing for me. Relax. I never leave you hanging.”

I take a deep breath, calming myself as much as I can, even though it feels as if I’ll never fall over the edge. It’s complete torture.

I shouldn’t doubt Oliver, though. He presses on my bundle of nerves, moving in tune with the attention he laves on my breast. “These are so fucking beautiful,” he coos. “Watch how you respond to me. Tight, perky bud straining for my mouth. Mine.”

I start to shake uncontrollably. Oliver’s hips join in on the action, working together with mine. He pinches my breast as he kisses a trail up my neck before biting down on my ear. “One day,” he promises. “You’re going to let me fuck you properly.”

My mind obliterates. Stars dance across my vision when my climax hits until I’m clinging onto my best friend, fingers sinking into his upper arms as I ride out my pleasure. My short gasps fill the area around us until I shudder one final time. I drop my head to his shoulder, breathing in his heady scent.

“Now tell me that didn’t feel good,” he prompts. “Next time you want to feel like that, you come to me.” He covers me back up, making sure my panties are in place and my bra is on correctly. He flares out my shirt and skirt, then tucks the hem of my shirt in like I had it.

It’s easier when we do this in the dark. Then, I can just roll away in a blissful haze to fall asleep. Here, when we still have to go to class together, I don’t know what to say. However, I do know my knees feel like jelly, and there’s a heightened sense of awareness still clinging to my skin.

“I take it you’re mad about the Leo video?”

“Not mad,” he says huskily. “Only trying to make you see what’s been in front of you this whole time.”

Nerves tighten my stomach. I could fall into an abyss with Oliver. Besides Dee, he’s my person. He’s everything to me and changing that scares the shit out of me. With Leo? It’s just about playing games and sex. Even ogling Alaric is pure fun. With Oliver, though, it’s not like we can go back to where we were. Once you cross a line, there’s no returning to blissful ignorance.

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