Page 68 of Look What You Made Me Do

It is. I looked up the first time my stalker drugged me, and I remember the generic name.

As I hold the bottle in my hand, an idea comes to me. Turning, I find Lucas’ dark navy bathrobe and shrug into it, slipping the bottle into the large pocket. Then I open the door and lean against the doorframe.

Lucas is lying naked on the bed, scrolling on his phone.

My heart feels like a jackhammer against my ribs. “Hey, um, do you have any booze around here?”

“There’s some whiskey in the liquor cabinet,” he answers.

The cabinet is on the far side of the room, next to the fireplace. I wander over there, opening the cabinet, making a show of deciding what to try. This guy has every kind of whiskey under the sun, all expensive bottles that must have cost him a small fortune.

Grabbing two glasses from the shelf inside, I pull the GHB from my pocket and add a generous dose to his glass, then I pour in the whiskey and stash the medication behind the other bottles.

My blood pressure is through the roof right now, and I feel dizzy, like I’m about to pass out. But I struggle to keep my cool as I carry the drinks over to the bed and hand him the one that’s been spiked with GHB. He tosses his phone aside and tips his head back, downing the entire drink in one swallow.

Oh. Wow, okay.

I take a sip from my drink, wincing at the strong smoky flavor, and then I set the glass down. “Ugh, that was horrible.”

With a chuckle, he reaches forward and tugs on the belt of my robe, pulling me toward him. He spreads the terrycloth open and brushes his thumb over my right nipple. I suck in a breath as a shock of electricity shoots straight to my core.

Dear, God, how long before the drug takes effect?

“Come here,” he says, falling back against the pillows. “Straddle me.”

I blink at him for a second, then shake my head slowly. “No.”

He laughs again but sobers quickly, a dark look crossing over his pretty rich-boy face. “I think we both know defiance isn’t going to fly with me.”

It’s on the tip of my tongue to curse at him. Instead, I take a step back and bite my tongue. Soon the drug will work its magic and when it does, I’ll be the one in control. I just need to bide my time.

In the end, he doesn’t wait for me to comply. He reaches over and pulls me onto the bed, so I’m straddling his hips. The robe separates us, but I can still feel the bite of his rock-hard shaft pressed against my center.

Then he grabs my hips and forces me to rock back and forth in a slow, steady rhythm that simulates sex. He tilts his head back and releases a long hiss, his grip on me tightening. “Fuck,these hips will be my salvation.”

I don’t know what that means. I can’t even guess. I’m too distracted, waiting for any sign that the drug is working.

And then something shifts, and his eyes widen. He releases my hips and tries to get up, but his movements are slow like his limbs are being weighed down by cinderblocks.

“Wyn,” he says through gritted teeth. “What the fuck?”

Grabbing his face, I lean down and whisper, “How does being completely stripped of power feel?”

His eyes flare with anger, and he tries to shift his body again, but he can’t. My hand lowers, so it’s curled around his throat now, and I squeeze.

He’s so much stronger than me, and I realize I’m only in control because of the drug, but still, it gives me a thrill to see this campus god at my mercy.

His head sinks deeper into the pillow as his muscles relax, his mouth open slightly. I’m squeezing his throat, not hard, but I can see the flash of fear in his eyes. He’s used to getting his waythrough brute force. Now, he can’t even defend himself. That feeling must suck.

I smile and shift off him. “Whose in control now,baby?”

His eyes narrow, and a tic pulses in his jaw, but that’s the only movement he can manage. Thank God. Because I know he'd rip me to shreds right now if he could.

But with Lucas now at my mercy, I can’t help but give into curiosity. You don’t walk away from a tranquilized lion without reaching out a shaky hand to touch him first. You may never get the chance again.

Watching his face, I brush my fingers up his solid thigh to the patch of hair nestled between his thighs. His cock juts up, fully erect, and I run the tip of my finger along the underside of his thick, veiny shaft.

My clit pulses, and I swallow.

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