Page 155 of Dare To Break

“Good evening, Kitten.” A hand lands on my shoulder.

Eyes closed under the blindfold at the raspy whisper, I savor the weight of it. “Good evening … I don’t know what to call you.”

He’s silent for a beat. “Do I need a name?” He sounds curious.

Yes, yes, something I can call out when I’m touching myself and imagining it’s you doing it.

I nod. “Please. Even if it’s not your real one.”

At this point, I’m not sure I want to know. Out here, it’s like a different world. Somewhere Churchill Bradley Academy doesn’t exist, and it’s just the two of us.

Three of us when he brings his friend.

Heat climbs into my cheeks.

What does he plan to do to me tonight?

A finger drifts over my cheekbone. “Sin. That’s what you can call me.”

“Sin,” I repeat softly, already feeling the wetness of arousal between my legs.

He chuckles. “I think it’s appropriate. I’m going to guide you into the tomb, where we can have a little more privacy.”

Rising eagerly, I let him take my arm. I trust him to keep me from falling, and I duck my head when he tells me to. The air of the tomb is cool, prickling over my skin.

“Is your friend here tonight?” I whisper when we come to a stop.

“No. He’ll come and play with us another time.”

I squirm with anticipation. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about him all day. Not only does he own my dreams at night, but he’s there in my head during my waking hours.

I’m desperate to touch him again. Eager to feel the solid warmth of his cock in my hand. I want to explore it more, discover what he likes, and listen to his groans and gasps. I want the thrill of knowing I’m pleasing him, the way he pleased me when he had his mouth between my legs, making me come over and over.

Chapter 100

Eli

“Thank you for the food last night. It was you, wasn’t it?”

I shrug, then remember she can’t see me. “Having a pity party in the cemetery would make anyone hungry.”

Her head swings toward the direction of my voice, and she lifts a hand. “Can I touch you?”

I circle her wrist with my fingers and flatten her palm against my chest. It immediately slides up to my throat. “Ah-ah, Kitten. Don’t break the rules.”

“The rules?”

“No touching my face.”

“Why not? You touch mine.”

I stroke her cheek. “I know who you are.”

“Maybe I want to know who you are.”

My fingers slide into her hair, and I tug her head back so I can lower my face and press my mouth against her ear. “No, you don’t.”

“How do you know that?”

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