Page 31 of The Secrets of a Sin

My heart stammers violently as hurt but also embarrassment courses through me.

“Fuck off, Arsen.” I shout, not caring about anything else other than putting distance between us. As I try to get out of his hold, he quickly rises onto his feet with his finger still plunged deep inside me.

“Don’t like that, do you?” He teases, pushing against the sensitive spot inside me, knowing I’d slacken and my efforts at shoving and pushing him away would stop. “Maybe that's what I’ll have to do to get you out of my system. Fuck someone who will surrender to me.” His jabbing intensifies and so does the orgasm I feel cresting. “Someone who’s not a mouthy teenager.” Pressing his warm body closer into mine, he brushes the hair off my shoulder, and begins nipping at my ear with gentle tugs. “Perhaps I should take Principal Welch up on her offer?”

I instantly lose it. Bucking like a damn bronco to get him off, but I’m useless against his large frame and strength. He pins me against the shelves and swiftly spins me around till we're face-to-face. “Do it and see what happens.” I seethe, staring up into his wickedly handsome face. “I’ll never speak to you again.”

Even after all our moving and fighting, his fingers somehow manage to stay snug inside me. With eyes that reigned in fury and undeniable lust, he drops his head down until our noses touch, and his breath intertwines with mine. “I’ll do whatever the fuck I please, and if that means I have to bury myself inside your whore of a principal, then so be it. But make no mistake, angel, you’re mine until I decide otherwise. The minute you offered your cunt to me, you signed your fucking life away to the devil. And baby, I’m just getting started with you.”

My eyes bulge. My heart gallops. And my rage grew into hatred. Red hot hatred that coiled with my sickening attraction towards a man I couldn’t stand. I was never someone he could ever actually grow feelings for. I was merely someone forbidden and alluring that he could sink his claws into and use until he wanted to discard me. But, sadly, for Arsen, two could play at his game. “Now who’s lying?” I focus all my negative energy on his face, hoping to somehow give him some of my grief. Lifting my chin, he grins proudly at my defiance. “You don’t want anything to do with Principal Welch, or to be inside her for that matter. The only pussy you’re desperate to get into is mine, and unfortunately for you, you're doing a poor job at convincing me you deserve it. So, perhaps I will have to search elsewhere.” Even if everything I said about searching for someone else was a complete lie, the way Arsen’s eyes darkened to a deadly shade had my insides contorting.

Forcibly dragging his digits out of me, he palms my whole pussy in his hand and presses his nose roughly against mine as his eyes scour me harshly. “Is that what you want to do? Find another man to half-ass please you with his dick while the whole time you imagine it is me fucking you?” He breathes grimly across my face while his eyes zero in on my opened mouth. “This pussy ain’t anything special. It may be tight and squeezing me like a damn vise, but it’s nothing I haven’t felt before.”

I want to lean forward and bite his damn lip off. Make him bleed for every rude word he’s spoken to me, but instead, I ground myself onto his hand that is cupping me and take what I want. “Guess I’ll have to find someone who finds my pussy special then.” I rock slowly against the roughness of his hand, scraping my clit against his knuckles. Surprisingly, he doesn't back away from me as I expected him to. He remains stoic and immobile, but his breathing flounders as if he is struggling to stay sane. Confirming that our eyes are connected, and I have his full attention, I open my mouth. “And I can promise you it won’t be difficult.”

Swirl after swirl, I spin myself further into an orgasm that's crashing the surface of being volatile. I didn’t care if he was pissed. I didn’t care that I hated him. All I wanted to do was come.

“Now who’s lying? You think once they find out you’re one of the freaks from St. Catherine's, they'll still want you?” He shifts his hand against me in a circular motion, giving more friction to my sore slit. “Nobody wants damaged goods, angel. And you have the word flawed written right across that fucking beautiful forehead of yours.”

Beautiful?

Out of that whole horrible statement he just said to me, I only took in him calling me beautiful.

“Lucky for you, I’ll make an exception.” He growls as our grinding turns savage, and my eyes are rolling back into my head. Every movement is painful, but there is no stopping what is about to happen. I was teetering on the verge of relief. “I’m the only man who will accept you for the monster you are. Now come on my fucking hand so I can soak in all your sins.”

With the final twist of my hips, I come hard.

I come violently.

I come unashamedly.

Screw you, Arsen Hale.

Screw you.

9

CHARLOTTE

Past

It’s been two whole days since I’ve had sex.

I thought that maybe after finally doing it, my urges would soften, but boy, oh boy, was I wrong. The severe ache between my legs worsened, and the only thought that surged through my head was how I desperately needed to be filled. My stomach clenched and churned every second that my hole was empty, and the only thing that seemed to dull the pain was my fingers. Every rough stab of my digit soothed a portion of the sting that gushed through me, but it wasn’t enough. I needed more.

So much fucking more that I couldn’t think straight. Food tasted bland, my friends' text messages were ignored, and my usually neat and tidy room was a chaotic mess. And it was all because I decided to indulge in my cravings. Now everything in my life seemed to have spiraled out of control over the course of just one weekend. I knew it had been the start of something destructive and had wreaked havoc on my life, but I couldn’t stop the urges even if I tried. I no longer felt like I was McKinney. I was just a fraud of a girl who happened to resemble the renowned Mayor and his Elegant wife. And, of course, they were oblivious to everything and never even wondered why I spent the whole weekend locked up in my room while they carried on with their seemingly perfect life without me. To uphold the McKinney name, you had to be flawless in all aspects. From the clothes you wore to whoever you dated, I had to remain clean and exemplary. And I was, up until Friday night.

Wrapping my still raw and sore fingers around the metal of my locker, I hear soft giggles from behind me, causing my head to slightly turn towards the sound.

“Fucking slut.” The words strike me hard and fast like a slap to the face, and I quickly meet their eyes.

Were they talking about me?

The minute my eyes clashed with a short brunette, a sophomore, she shook her head in a repulsed manner and stalked off with another girl beside her.

What the hell was that all about?

My chest expanded with every rapid strike of my heart. Surely, they couldn’t have been talking about me? As I slowly closed my locker and made the long trek to class, their crude words remained floating around in my skull. I was popular, well-liked, and was friends with most students at LakeWood Prep, so why did I have some lower-class girls calling me a slut? It made my stomach sink, creating a knot-like feeling in my lower abdomen and a tightness in my throat.

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