Page 18 of Merciless Prince
The Hellfire Club kept popping into my mind.
Could it be real? Couldthatbe what I saw several weeks ago when my friends and I sneaked into the grotto under Beaumont Castle—some sort of deadly secret society ritual that Killian and his friends were involved in?
I sighed and dropped my gaze to my lap, silently telling myself to stop letting my wild imagination get the better of me. What I witnessed that night wasn’t real. There was a camera there in the grotto, along with hired actresses like our acquaintance Francesca. It was definitely just an amateur movie shoot.
I really needed to get that through my head.
Besides, like Leah and Faye said earlier, no one knew if the Hellfire Club even existed. The whole thing was probably just an urban legend. Something a bunch of bored locals made up to make their little town seem more interesting.
Killian and his friends might be arrogant assholes who gave off cruel, menacing vibes, but they couldn’t actually be psychopathic murderers… right?
6
Shay
I smothereda yawn and glanced at the clock at the bottom of my laptop screen. It was nearly eleven-thirty.
I gave the paper I was working on a quick onceover. Then I shut the laptop lid and padded into the bathroom to get ready for bed.
Back in the city, I usually went to sleep anywhere between one and three a.m. Now that I was here in Bellingham, I was trying to adjust my bedtime to an earlier hour so I wouldn’t feel like a total zombie on the days I had early classes. It wasn’t easy, though. I would feel physically tired before midnight, but my mind refused to shut off until the early hours of the morning.
I washed my face and braided my hair so I wouldn’t wake up to a tangled, ratty mess in the morning. Then I darted my left hand out to grab my toothbrush from its spot on the vanity.
It wasn’t there.
I dropped my hand and stared in confusion. I always kept the toothbrush in the exact same spot—to the left of the sink, right behind the toothpaste and dental floss. Right now, only the other two things were there.
“What the hell?” I mumbled to myself, sweeping my gaze all over the vanity. Perhaps I’d moved the toothbrush this morning and forgotten all about it.
Nope.It was nowhere to be seen.
I rummaged through the drawers below the vanity. They were filled with hair products, tubes of skincare stuff, and makeup. No toothbrush.
My forehead creased as I thought back to everyone who’d been in my dorm over the last couple of weeks. Cori, obviously. Leah, Cooper, and Faye had visited multiple times as well, and a couple of girls from my Camera Acting class had also come over once.
Why would any of them take my toothbrush, though? It had to be here somewhere.
Letting out a groan, I stood up straight and squeezed some toothpaste onto my index finger. I was too tired to continue searching through the bathroom, so my teeth would have to live with a good old-fashioned finger-brushing tonight. The proper toothbrush would either turn up somewhere tomorrow—in the most obvious spot ever, knowing my luck—or I’d have to go and buy a new one.
When I was done, I climbed into bed and switched off the lamp on my bedside table. I thought sleep might come instantly because I was so exhausted, but as usual, my brain kept on buzzing. The thin ceiling above me didn’t help matters, either. A muffled masculine voice kept drifting down every few seconds.
Killian was probably on the phone to someone.
Jealousy spiked at my guts as I wondered who he was talking to. One of his latest conquests, no doubt. He was probably telling her all the different things he was going to make her do when he saw her next.
Ugh, why the hell do you even care?I asked myself, dragging my spare pillow over my face to shut out the noise.
I already knew the answer.
I didn’t like Killian because he seemed like an arrogant douchebag, but I didn’t have to like someone to think they were hot as fuck.
I sighed and removed the pillow from my face. Then I closed my eyes and reached one hand downward. As my fingers delved into my satin pajama bottoms, my mind filled with the same fantasy scenario that I’d been thinking about every evening since I arrived on campus.
In the fantasy, Killian tore open my door and stormed into my room to confront me over some perceived slight against him. I slapped him in the face and told him to get the hell out, because he had no right to invade my personal space. Then I turned to run away from him.
He was too fast for me. Before I could get anywhere, he grabbed me, spun me back around, and pushed me up against the nearest wall. Then he leaned his head close to my ear and spoke in a gravelly tone, commanding me to turn around and put my hands on the wall.
After I did what he said, dripping with anticipation, he slowly reached up my skirt, yanked my panties down, and fucked me until I screamed and came in short, gasping breaths. If the fantasy were actually real, it would be the first time I enjoyed sex and managed to climax with a man inside me.
