Page 5 of Hateful Games

He was the school’s golden boy.

I was the goth.

Nova wasn’t just an untouchable senior but we’ve grown up running in same circles due to our families being who they are. It was always impossible to not attend a gala or a charity event and not see him there, charming everyone.

He is an heir, after all.

The D’Cruz legacy will be his one day.

Somehow, a signature on a piece of paper has altered my reality. Flipped my world upside down. Sent me into another dimension.

My intuition screams now that I’ve stumbled in his path, my days of being invisible are over. Not even a day and he’s already slithered his way into my peaceful haven.

Heat climbs up my neck and my gaze narrows when I see what he’s holding in his hand.

“Holding her down by the nape of her neck, he impales her with his cock and commands, ‘Take every fucking inch like a good little girl’. She whimpers in wicked pleasure while he ruthlessly fucks her, using her pussy for his pleasure,” Nova recites from the book I was reading before I was called down. A hint of a smirk playing on his lips.

“I’ll only say it once,” I say, stepping farther inside my room. “Put it down.”

He casually flips the page, ignoring me. “While she’s pushing back and meeting every savage thrust, he spreads her ass cheeks and circles the rim of her forbidden hole.” He pauses to glance at my burning face before resuming his torture. “She tenses but moans when he pushes his thumb past the resisting muscles. He smirks when the filthy girl he’s turned her into clenches around his dick. Her juices soak his balls as he fucks both her holes until she screams and crie—”

“Why don’t you just borrow the book?” I snap.

My face is beet red. While my traitorous brain wonders if he could make a fortune being a narrator. Or a cover model. Or both. His voice has the perfect timbre. Deep. Husky. Commanding.

Because being a stalker and bullying asshole is synonymous with having a sinfully gorgeous face.

Yet all I feel is repulsion.

Apparently, his charming personality is reserved for everyone but me.

“You’ll need to work on your sense of boundaries if we’re going to be married, fiancé,” I spit out, already plotting to get out of this mess. Or potentially, his demise.

“So, the woman I’m marrying is kinky.”

“You mean sexually empowered?”

He shuts the book. “You’re sixteen.”

“And you can’t find women your own age to marry.” I smirk. “No, wait. You can’t find women. Period. Need Daddy to search for one, whether or not willing.”

My insult has no visible reaction. Instead, he taps my book on the armrest rhythmically while giving me his undivided attention. It takes everything not to stomp and rip my book out of his hand before he ruins the edges.

There should be an unspoken rule to not touch another’s books. Yeah, like he would ever follow it.

“You weren’t this mouthy in school.”

I freeze, jaw slack.

He noticed me.

His icy gaze, despite their warm color, peruse me from head to toe. Taking a puff of his cigarette, he murmurs, “Guess I pegged you wrong. You’re a kinky little thing, aren’t you, little Rose? It’s always the quiet ones.”

He whispers the last part, almost to himself. “It felt like you were enjoying it a lot more.”

“I’m not a virgin, living like a nun while getting my rocks off with book porn,” he taunts, throwing my book to the floor. “I prefer to have my fun with real, three-dimensional women, whose forbidden holes I can actually fuck.”

Arrogant prick. “And yet here you are, in my bedroom. Why don’t you go and marry one of your three-dimensional women?”

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