Page 134 of Dare To Break

Prey sensing a predator. The Monster of Churchill Bradley Academy has tasted my fear. How else does he plan to humiliate and degrade me?

I root around in my bag until I find my other phone, and check for messages.

Unknown number: Don’t wear underwear. Just the dress. And pigtails.

No underwear? I shift in my seat and press my thighs together. The skirt on that outfit is ridiculously high. If I bend over, I’ll flash my bare ass. Is that what he wants?

Memories of the last time I’d been without my underwear for him reel through my head. I can feel myself getting wet at the thought. But it’s offset by a small thread of trepidation.

He left me on edge, cold, horny, and unfulfilled.

What if he does that a second time?

Will I really be able to live that down?

Chapter 86

Eli

“Are you sure you want me there? I’m not ready to get pregnant from another one of those looks you shared. I’m way too young to become a father.” Kellan laughs at his own joke.

“If she wants you to leave, you can. Otherwise, yes, I want you there.”

We walk through the cemetery gates and over to the tomb. I hand Kellan the key, and he unlocks it and steps inside.

“Get everything ready. I’ll go and meet her.”

He tips me a salute when he turns to close the door, and I head back to the bench where I’ve told her to meet me.

I wonder if she’s followed my instructions. She didn’t reply to either of the last two messages I sent. I take out my lip ring, pocket it, and pull down my ski mask as I turn the corner and my steps slow to a stop.

She’s there, in that impossibly short dress, sitting on the bench, legs together, hands tucked between her thighs, in her standard pose. Her hair is in pigtails, high on each side of her head, and the blindfold is over her eyes. The moonlight spills over her, making her look unreal, otherworldly.

I keep my footsteps silent and move to stand in front of her and just … stare. She’s braless, unlike last night, her nipples hard and pressing against the thin material. I can see the outline of them through the dress. I don’t know if it’s caused by the chill in the air or anticipation of what might come.

I move around the bench until I’m behind her and lean forward. “Stand up,” I whisper against her ear.

She jumps, her sharp intake of breath going straight to my dick. Her hands move to either side of her body and she pushes herself upright, fingers finding the hem of her dress to tug it down over her ass.

“Leave it.”

She freezes.

“Why are you here?”

“I don’t … What do you mean?”

“It’s been three weeks. I thought you’d ended the game. What changed your mind?” I continue my circuit until I’m standing in front of her.

“I want to play again.”

“Why?” I reach out and run my finger over the neckline of her dress. Her breasts are that close to spilling out that my thumb brushes over her nipples as I caress the material.

“I miss feeling something.”

“What do you feel right now?” I stroke up her throat, over her jaw and around the shape of her lips.

“Scared. Hot.”

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