Page 37 of Requiem

I look back up at him, and my head spins at the primal, dominant expression he turns on me. “Don’t tell me what I will or will not dare to do. You have no fucking idea. Look at it.”

I keep my eyes trained on his face.

“Look at it, Voss.”

Ford is going to overhear him any second now. She’s going to lose her shit and stop the movie, and I’ll be saved from this beautiful nightmare. Only she doesn’t.

God help me, but I look down. Theo palms his cock in his right hand, slowly working his grip up and down his considerable length. He’s hard, veins standing proud in the rigid shaft of his erection. He squeezes himself, harder than looks comfortable, and a bead of precum forms at the head of his dick.

An inferno burns inside me, scorching me from my stomach, up through my chest, blazing at the base of my throat, setting my cheeks on fire. The sight of him touching himself, working that hand up and down, makes my nipples peak. My breasts feel suddenly tight. Heavy. They ache as if they want to be touched, too. And between my legs…my pussy wants to be touched even more. I’m wetter than I’ve ever been in my entire life.

When Theo pauses, hand gripped around the top of his shaft, and he rubs that bead of precum all over the head of his dick with the pad of his thumb, I nearly spontaneously combust.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” I mutter.

“The hell is wrong withyou?” he fires back. “You want this. I can fucking smell how bad you want it on you.”

Shame rockets through me, all consuming. He cansmellit on me? Jesus Christ.

“Sit there and watch, Kid. Look away, even for a second, and you’ll regret it. That’s a promise.”

Theo leans back into his chair, releasing me, but his eyes never waver. They burn holes into me as he shifts his jeans down a little lower over his hips, giving him better access as he angles his hips up, making his cock jut out…

Oh my god.

Transfixed, I gasp down frantic gulps of air as he quickens his pace, shuttling his hand up and down his erection. Faster and faster. Harder and harder. It’s the most primal, brazen, fascinating thing I’ve ever witnessed.

He pulls up his t-shirt, exposing the flat, muscled planes of his stomach. “This is ’cause of you,” he hisses. “This is how crazy you make me. This is how badly you make me wannafuck.”

Quicker and quicker, he works his hand over himself, growing tenser by the second. His shoulders lock out. His legs. The muscles in his arms strain as he gets closer and closer.

It happens all at once: Theo’s eyelids slam closed, his head tipping back, and he erupts, coming all over his hand and his bare stomach. Fuck! The sight of him, slick and wet, covered in his own come, is equally the hottest, most terrifying thing I’ve ever seen.

He releases a stuttering exhalation, his mouth falling open a fraction, and I feel like I might die.

He’s beautiful and savage—so fucking sexy that I bite the inside of my cheek until I taste blood. I want him so badly that I can’t see straight. “Fuck, Theo…”

He sits up, opening his eyes, and the raw desire that was there before he came hasn’t disappeared; if anything, it’s intensified. “The next time I do that, it’s gonna be inside you, Voss. I’m gonna rub my come all over your pussy. I’m gonna feed it inside you with my fingers. You have my word.” Without missing a beat, he reaches across me and grabs the little red and white bandana I used as a headband this morning—I discarded it and put it on top of my bag when I came into the auditorium earlier with Noelani, but now Theo uses it to wipe himself clean. Once he’s done, he unzips my bag and shoves the wadded up material inside.

He puts himself away and does up his jeans. Then the bastard gets up out of his chair. “I’m coming to your room tomorrow night.”

“You’re not!” I hiss.

“I am. And I’m gonna fuck you. And you’re gonna come all over my dick, and I am gonna lick you fucking clean. It’s a date.”

He walks away.

“Theo!”

He doesn’t listen. Doesn’t even look back.

Ford doesn’t make a sound as he stalks up the aisle and lets himself out of the auditorium.

Goddamnit, I can’t…I can’t fuckingbreathe.

Go, go, go. You’ve gotta get the hell out of here.

It isn’t Rachel’s memory that tells me to follow suit and leave. It’s a far more urgent, desperate voice in my head, screaming at me to bolt. My legs are unsteady as I make my way out of the auditorium. My vision feels weirdly blurry.

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