Page 33 of Make Me Pretty
What I didn’t—and never would have—expected is Peris’s cold and calm demeanor. His face is nothing but a twistedversion of his usual bitch-faced sneer. His fingers are lax at his sides, broad shoulders even and relaxed.
The only tell-tale sign that he just caught me jerking off in his bed is the slight tilt to his head and the flare of his nostrils.
“What are you doing?” And it’s the sound of his voice that, for the first time in averylong time, spikes a dose of trepidation into my blood.
I swallow slowly, all too aware of the sweat beading along my hairline. My hand trembles too much to keep moving.
Peris takes a step forward—only one, but I feel it like a kick in the ribs.
I shouldn’t have done this. I’ve pushed too far.
“Did you hear me, runt?”
“W-what?” I squeak.
“What are you doing in my room? In my fucking bed.” He’s closer now, a mere foot away, and his scent is overwhelming. I’m surrounded by Peris Baxter on all sides, and I’msuffocatingin him.
“I—” His hand shoots out, and his large, calloused fingers clamp tightly around my throat. Airflow is cut off instantly, blood flow not far behind, while his other delves into my hair, gripping tightly right at the scalp.
He shakes his head slowly—so slow, it sends goosebumps burning down each arm. “No. Thereisno reason to explain why the fuck you’ve invadedmyspace. And to fucking—” He cuts off sharply as his eyes dart to my crotch—where my hand is still very much on my junk, which is also still very hard. Throbbing, really.If I could just?—
“You’re fucking disgusting, Abel. Thinking you can break the rules and burrow your sad little self into people’s lives…” His voice is a soft, tempting whisper across my overheated skin. I can’t swallow against the pressure, let alone breathe. My head swims, lungs contracting from lack of oxygen.
“I tried to warn you, but you’re justtoo fucking stupidto take a hint.” He’s so close, the tip of his nose skims mine, dark, golden-green eyes pinned to the silver barbell at the bridge of my nose. “I told you I didn’t want to hurt you.” He says it like it’s a threat, but that’s just the thing: it’s what I’ve wanted all along. Becauseobviously, something is wrong with me.
Whether it be the mommy issues, theI don’t know who my daddy isissues, years of abuse and trauma of every variety… who the hell knows. But ever since I watched Peris come in his pants to the sight of me jerking off a dude in the choir room, well…
I do love playing games. And fuck, if I’m not falling right into my own trap because the thing is: I genuinely like Peris. He’s hot as all fuck, has bouts of dry humor, and seems to generally be a pretty all-right guy—justnotto me. Which is all well and good because I don’t want his fucking decency.
I want his darkness. His depravity. Every shred of his ugliness.I know it’s in there.
“I-I want—” I wheeze, the words barely formed.
He speaks as if he didn’t hear me, but I know he did. He can’tnotwith his face millimeters from mine. Our breaths are rapidly exchanged. “But it’s too late. You just—” He cuts off with a harsh, snapping grind of his teeth. The muscles in his jaw flutter under the pressure, bulging and straining against his stretched skin. Through gritted teeth, he dips low enough for his lips to graze my jaw with every word.
“And now, I’m gonna bruise that pretty skin of yours, Abel. I’m gonna fuck you up and make you bleed.” His words caress the tip of my tongue, sending shivers down the length of my spine. I tremble when he yanks on my hair, sending a twinge down my neck. “You like that shit, right? Is that what you want from me?” He pulls back, drags his finger over my gauntcheekbone, down into the hollow, before compressing my jaw, forcing it open.
Oh,shit.
I try to breathe in, but nothing happens. My legs start to twitch as the pressure builds, spots dancing along my vision. Peris leans his body over my torso, keeping me pinned exactly where he wants me, and my hands shoot upward, fingers clasping his wrists.
The urge to plead for my life rests on the tip of my tongue, but nothing more than a pathetic mewl escapes from my lips. Peris’s lip curls as if caught by a fishhook as his fingers loosen, and I gasp.
“All you are is a sad, worthless waste of space, and I can’t wait…” Peris breathes every word into me, where they flow straight down my newly freed throat and into my gut where they sit like a lead weight, “until I never have to see your disgusting…prettyface again.” He rips himself away, face twisted, body trembling, and I wish it would make him look at least a little bit ugly, but no. The fucker is so hot, he makes even a temper tantrum look good.
I watch his tendons and veins bulge through his cut-off shirt. We’re inches from one another. Chests heaving in a staccato rhythm. Our breaths are the only sound permeating the air for long moments. He fingers the piercing at the bridge of my nose, almost absentmindedly, before he shovesmeaway and stomps out his room, slamming the door shut behind him so hard, it rattles the pens on his desk.
I keep my eyes pinned on his vacancy far longer than necessary as I catch my breath, head pounding mercilessly. It takes too many minutes for awareness to come back to me, for my fight-or-flight instincts to infiltrate my conscience again.
And they scream to fight—harder. To make him snap. ‘Cause I wanna bleed. I wanna ache with his bruises, if only for the satisfaction of having made him do it.
My hand, still shoved down my pants, comes back to life and squeezes my throbbing erection as my tongue skips across crooked teeth. The fingers on my other hand brush over my cheekbone, down to the throbbing points on my jaw, and to my throat—where he held me, pinned me in place—before I reach up and into my hair—where his nails bit into my scalp.
I dazedly make my way back into my own room, the few steps feeling momentous, not knowing where Peris is at. The air is silent with static, and my hairs stand on end.
The moment my door latches into place, casting everything in heavy shadows through the sunset, I heave out a desperate breath and flip the lock before shoving my jeans and boxers to the floor in a rush.
Touching the places he touched, my eyes roll back, and I slouch against the closed door. My legs tremble, then buckle, and my ass slams into the carpeted floor with a sharp thump, giving me a jolt up my spine.
