Page 7 of Fractured Loyalties
My pulse pounds at the thought, and my cock stretches hard against the denim of my jeans.Fuck.I reach for the button, setting my shaft free. I swipe the precum with the thumb of my free hand, and then begin to stroke, staring at her in that little black bikini.
In the darkness, I start to see her everywhere, and my vision blurs. I see her at the table tonight, lamb juice staining her sleeve, her eyes darting between escape routes. I see her hands, so thin they look breakable, trembling as she pours herselfwater. I see her mouth, and I groan, shuddering at the thought of it wrapping around my cock.
“You’re going to beg me, Little Lamb,” I grunt, stroking harder and faster, picturing Ivy’s eyes watering, tears pouring down her face as I slide down her throat.
The only thing she’ll be grieving when I’m done with her is her goddamn innocence.
That sends me right over the edge. I come, pulsing into my hand and onto the glossy surface of her photo. The moment is sharp and high, but then gone. I want more than this.
No, Ineedmore than this.
I need to fucking ruin her.
Three
IVY
Never in mylife have I wanted more desperately to be invisible.
I mean, really… Where the hell have I ended up?I stare up at theWoods Private Schoolsign, its letters gothic and eerie, just like the estate. It’s as if the Addams family founded this institution.
Except the Addams family would probably be a lot nicer.
I tug at my tartan skirt, which fits perfectly. It was theXXScollared uniform shirt that didn’t fit over my biceps, thanks to my inherited broad shoulders.
So, now I’m in a white band T-shirt, which has been turned inside out, to hide the logo, and stuffed into the skirt with a stupid little black tie.
All I can hope for is that I don’t have to take the blazer off.
A trio of girls in identical plaid skirts and blazers materialize at the entrance way, each of them with hair the color of honey and teeth so white it hurts to look directly at them. Their shoes click against the marble like gunshots. I shift to the left to avoid being in their direct path, but it’s too late.
They see me. Shit.
The tallest one, with vacant blue eyes and cheekbones that are highlighted perfectly, tilts her head and stops a few feet from me.
“Hmm…” Her pink lips are pressed together as her gaze rolls down my body. “I guess the scholarship cases can’t afford proper uniforms.”
Her friends laugh, in sync, as if they sit around and practice. It’s a sound I remember from other playgrounds and locker rooms, a brand of cruelty that’s been distilled by centuries of private education and trust funds.
Mean girls.
My face goes hot, and my lips part, but nothing comes out. Thankfully, it doesn’t matter because the girls continue into the school building. Maybe they don’t think I’m worth the energy of pursuing.
Seriously, it would be better that way.
I step inside and inch down the hallway, careful not to let my backpack catch on anything. My heart is going hard enough to make me feel nauseous, but I keep my head up, because I can feel my mother’s disapproval from many miles away.
I also hear my father’s voice echoing in my head.“Stand tall, Ivy. They’re just people. None of them are special. They just think they are.”
The thought gives me a little burst of confidence, but also a squeeze of grief. I wonder what he’d really think about me ending up here… atthisplace.
The first bell rings, a low, mournful thing that echoes down the marble like a threat. I look down at my schedule.Room 2A, World History, Ms. Granger.
Sounds harmless. I can handle this.
I find the room, marked with a tiny brass2Aset into the walnut trim, and step inside. Kids are already in their seats, all variations on a single genetic theme…
Rich.
