Page 16 of Snitches and Serpents

Then he drops his hands and instead slides them up my thigh.

My heart is pounding so hard against my ribs that I think they’re going to break.

Trapped against the wall, all I can do is to stare up at the devil before me as he wraps his strong hands around my thigh.

Then he grips the sheer fabric of my pantyhose and rips a hole in them.

I gasp.

He lets out a dark chuckle.

The sound of tearing fabric fills the narrow alleyway as he rips a hole in the material right in the middle of my other thigh as well.

My pulse thrums in my ears.

His fingers skim against my bare skin before he takes his hands off my thighs. I drag in short, uneven breaths.

He steps impossibly closer.

I’m forced to press myself harder against the wall. But even despite my efforts, my breasts now brush against his body every time I breathe. He traces his fingers along my jaw. Lightning skitters across my skin in the wake of his touch.

Then he draws his hand down towards the back of my neck.

Every analytical ability in my brain has fled. I have no idea what on earth this man is doing anymore. And why. All I know is that my body is reacting to his commanding touches in a way that is very wrong.

Tristan brushes his fingers up the back of my neck, sending an involuntary shiver of pleasure through my body.

Then he grabs my braid and pulls it forward over my shoulder instead. Drawing his hand down the length of it, he grips the elastic band tying it in place and pulls it off. The braid immediately starts coming apart.

He helps it along with his fingers.

Once the braid is fully undone, he slides both hands through my hair and ruffles it until it’s fluffed out and completely mussed.

There is a strange throbbing sensation between my legs.

It feels as if my nerves are on fire.

I’m not even sure if my heart is beating anymore.

Then he steps back.

For a moment, it’s as if time itself is no longer moving.

Tristan rakes his intense gaze up and down my body. Heat sears through my veins at the way he is looking at me.

Then he meets my eyes once more and flashes me a wicked smile full of satisfaction. “There. Now, you look less perfect and more like someone has just fucked you against the wall of an alley.”

Reality slams back into me.

It’s so violent that I actually jerk back from the force of it.

Snapping my gaze down, I stare at myself.

There are two giant rips in my pantyhose, my collar is unbuttoned and creased, and my hair is an absolute mess.

Steel bands immediately wrap around my chest, squeezing so hard that I lose my breath.

Oh, God. I can’t go to class like this. What would people say? What would they think?

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