Page 66 of The Prey

“Relax. He's not out here. I would have noticed.”

I’m still angry over seeing him with those girls. I want to hurt him and make him bleed. Why do I care so much? “Noticed? You’re kidding, right? How can you notice anything with your lap covered in girls while you down a bottle of alcohol?” I shake my head in disgust. I know I shouldn’t wear my emotions on my sleeve, but I can’t continue to hide how I feel.

His gaze narrows, and his grip on my chin tightens.”There are very few things related to you, Little Prey, that I don't notice.”

I jerk my chin free from his grasp, and a breath shudders out of my lungs. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

We’ve been on this teeter-totter of emotions, going back and forth. The attitude I’m giving him is nothing like my usual self, but I feel like I've been pushed to the limit. I can’t keep living like this. Every time he enters a room, my lungs tighten, and I forget how to breathe, how to exist. I don’t know if it’s from fear or lust, but the more I try to ignore him, the more I crave him.

Seconds tick on, and I can feel his eyes on me. I can hear those stupid girls in the kitchen talking about their scars and asking how I got mine because God knows he’d never touch someone who looks like me. I let my anger lead me and thrust my arm out toward him.

The scar, still scabbed over from his knife, is visible in the moonlight. “What does this mean? That I’m just another one of your conquests? Did you fuck all those girls?” I don’t know why I’m asking him that when I already know the answer. Maybe I just want him to give me another reason to hate him.

“We both know I don't owe you an explanation,” he whispers, his eyes on the mark like I've bared more than that skin up to my shoulder. He inches closer, and instinct tells me to retreat, but that’s not an option with the massive oak tree at my back.

“No, you’re right. You don't owe me an explanation for fucking every girl on campus.” My tone is hard as I try to ignore my body's reaction to his proximity.

Before I can make sense of what’s going on, he’s got me trapped, caged in, his arms resting on either side of my head. The bottle of liquor bumps against the bark, emitting a soft clink. I shouldn’t do it. I know I shouldn’t but I breathe deeply, letting his cologne fill my lungs. It’s then when all my senses seem to go out the window.

Clean. Home. That’s what he smells like.

My entire body lights up, from the tips of my toes to the tips of my fingers. My core aches, my arousal soaking the cotton of my panties. How am I already aching for him? I want his hands on me so much it takes immense effort not to tip my hips up into his.

“Careful, Little Prey. If I wasn’t so sure you hated my guts, I’d say that sounds a lot like jealousy. Or are you mad that it's not real? That I didn't fuck you before I marked you? Are you upset you didn’t get the complete experience?”

Asshole. I can't hold his gaze when he’s talking so crudely, and I know all it would take is one look for him to know the truth. “I'm not jealous of them. You’re an adult; you can do what you want. Who you fuck has nothing to do with me.”

“Yeah, you say that, but it’s a bullshit response.” He slams his hand against the tree near my face, and I jump, startled by the sudden movement.

“What do you want me to say? That I want you to fuck me? Oh please, Sebastian.” I mock softly. “No, I think it’s pretty clear we can’t cross that bridge. Look what happened after the blow job. You can’t look at me or even be in the same room as me for longer than five minutes.” I trail off, shaking my head in disappointment because, once again, I’ve shown him how vulnerable he makes me.

When will I ever learn?

Never. Which is why I keep finding myself in these stupid situations. I lift my chin and prepare to escape the cage he’s trapped me in, but when my gaze catches on his, I see something there that I’ve never seen before. Guilt. Sadness. It’s only a brief glimpse, but it’s there, reflecting back onto me.

“Fuck. Haven’t you realized by now that it's not because I can't stand to fucking look at you, Ely?”

Oh God. This is when he destroys me for the last time. When he cuts out my still beating heart and tosses it at my feet. I turn my face away from him because I don’t want to see his eyes when he lands that final blow. But nothing is ever simple with this man, and as soon as I turn away from him, he reaches for me, his fingers against my chin, dragging my gaze back to his.

“No, look at me. Fucking look at me.” There's so much command in his voice I can't help but do so. I try to wipe my face clean of all emotion, but I can’t. I’m not like him. Almost like he knows this, he frowns. “Ely. It’s not anything that you’re thinking. I can't be in a room with you or fucking look at you because it takes every ounce of self-control I have not to strip away your clothing with my knife and fuck you against the nearest surface until all you know is me. Until all you feel is my cock inside you, my weight above you, my cum dripping out of you.”

I don’t know what to think. How to react. It’s like I’m having an out of body experience. All this time, he’s been avoiding me because he’s afraid of losing control?

“But… I thought. You’ve told me so many times that I’m nothing to you, and now you’re saying you’ve wanted me this whole time?” The words fall from my lips with a bite of rage.

“Oh, Ely. I don’t think you understand. You're this beautiful fucking parasite, eating away at all the darkness around my heart. I’ve had to tell myself you’re nothing in hopes I could make myself believe it, but I can’t. I never have. You’re under my skin and in every fucking breath I take. You’ve destroyed me, and I fear there’s no going back to where we were before. “

Wait, what? I part my lips, ready to explode on him, but my brain short-circuits the words, preventing them from coming out because Sebastian’s firm, full, warm-as-hell lips press down on mine. I can barely comprehend what is happening right now, but what I do know is that I don’t want this moment to end. Weeks of anger and resentment make me crave something I shouldn't, something I know is bound to only end in heartbreak.

Yet even with that warning in my mind, I press closer, not wanting a single inch of space between us. Our tongues tangle, and the taste of bourbon explodes in my mouth, and fuck, it's like coming home after being gone for months.

As usual, Sebastian takes complete control, one hand cradling my cheek, the other dropping the bottle of liquor so he can cup the other side of my face. He angles me in such a way that allows him to deepen the kiss, his thumb coming under my chin to tip my mouth back just right. I clutch onto his arms, my body melting into his, my knees trembling, threatening to give out on me. Who knew a kiss could have such an impact? Then again, this isn’t just any kiss.

This is hate, want, desire, and lust all packed into one.

Laughter carries from somewhere off in the distance, and I jolt back into my body like a lightning strike. Wait…we can’t do this. We shouldn’t. I don’t want to be another mark on his bedpost. I want to be special. More. Releasing my hold on his arms, I move my hands to his muscular chest and give him a shove to break the connection.

He breaks the kiss, pulling away just enough to stare down at me in the dark, his erratic breathing matching my own.

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