Page 98 of Depraved Desires

Oblivious to my sudden change in demeanor, he stepped even closer so that our fronts were pressed together. His head was angled down, his eyes peering into mine with dark, heated promises.

“Good.” His gaze darkened and before I could even process what was happening, he closed the distance, smashing his lips against mine.

My head spun from the dizzying spell he enveloped me in. His strong hands cupped either side of my face while he held me in place, his tongue sweeping between my lips and teasing me. This wasn’t right. Not like this. I wanted him to truly want me. Not because he was so plastered that he couldn’t register his own actions or thoughts even. He lifted me with ease, forcing me to wind my hands around his necks so I didn’t fall. My back met the hard planes of the nearest wall and his erection dug into my heated center as he grinded into me, forcing a pained whimper from my throat.

“That’s it, Aspen,” he purred, breaking the kiss. “Moan for me.” His lips drifted to the column of my neck, eliciting a gasp. My legs tightened around him; the urge to grind against him being nearly painful.

With one hand holding me in place, he used the other, moving it to my aching pussy where he proceeded to rub circles against my clit through my leggings. Electricity rippled through me like a dangerous current and I wanted nothing more than to let him take me right here. Especially with his cunt of a wife being in the other room. But I couldn’t.

Building up as much courage as possible, I pushed against his chest. “Monroe, stop.” He didn’t, though. Instead, he applied more force, making my legs buckle in his hold. My heart raced as the heat began to overwhelm me. “Monroe,” I choked out, but it sounded more like a moan than anything.

Peeling his lips from my neck, he looked me in the eye again. “Shhh,” he said softly. His eyes were hooded, completely glazed over with lust. “I’m tired of fighting it.” Now that it was obvious he was drunk as shit, it was easy to see it in his mannerisms and in the way he spoke.

“Monroe,” I growled more firmly. His movements stilled and he tilted his head to the side, confusion flickering across his face. “Put me down.”

Reluctantly, he obeyed. I grabbed onto the wall for support, my legs still shaking from what had just occurred. Under any other circumstance, I would have given in, but it didn’t feel right taking advantage of him like this. He stepped away from me, taking his body heat with him.

I motioned to the bed. “Lay down.” If I wasn’t willing to sleep on the couch, then there was no way I was forcing him to in his own home. I’d just stay on my side of the bed like usual when sleeping next to any of the other guys.

He swayed slightly on his feet but regained his balance rather quickly. To my surprise, he didn’t question me and moved back to the bed, climbing beneath the comforter. His eyes met mine for a millisecond before they fluttered closed, and his breathing evened out.

The air around me seemed to mellow now that he wasn’t in my personal space. Running my hands through my hair, I released a heavy sigh. My mind flashed back to Collin—someone I thought could be trusted. Someone who connected with me and made me hate myself just a little bit less. He’d never have the opportunity to hurt me again. That was a mistake I wasn’t willing to make a second time. Physical pain was one thing. But emotional pain…that was the rawest, slowest form of torture. Luckily, I’d seen his true colors before it was too late.

Stripping out of my hoodie, I tossed it on the floor. The cold air kissed my exposed skin, eliciting a series of goosebumps inthe process. I kicked off my shoes next, positioning them near the door before flicking the light and clouding the room in complete darkness.

My phone was tucked into the band of my leggings, the cold from the glass sitting against hip bone. Swiping it free, I set an alarm for the morning, not trusting Monroe to wake me up for class. He probably wouldn’t remember our conversation and wouldn’t remember I intended on going to classes.

I navigated my way to the opposite side of the bed, making sure to keep a good distance away from him. The blankets were warm and welcoming, and the fact that they didn’t smell like cologne yet was a huge plus. They were my own. As soon as my head hit the pillow, relief enveloped me. It felt nice being back here without necessarily having to hide. Sure, it would look horrible if a staff member caught me coming to and from Monroe’s house, but at least none of us were in danger anymore.

My eyes grew heavy with every passing thought and before long, it was too much effort to even attempt keeping them open.

My lungs burned as icy water licked every part of my naked skin. Something brushed against my leg, making my pounding heart leap into my throat. The last thing I’d seen was Foster’s cold, angry gaze as he stood over the cliff-edge, watching me fall to my death with zero remorse. He had no right to do what he did. He had no right to kill Raven, and he had no fucking right to take my life. Like it meant absolutely nothing.

Dark spots danced around my vision as my limbs flapped uselessly around me, trying to find purchase against thisdeadly pool of corruption. Nothing but black surrounded me, making it impossible to see a damn thing. Somehow, that was even scarier. I just prayed that I drowned before whatever creature Myles had been rambling about found me.

My eyes snapped open, my breathing erratic as I stared at the mundane ceiling above me. The annoying tune of my alarm resounded throughout the room, making me wince. Glancing over, the bed was empty aside from me, and relief settled into my bones. At least I wouldn’t have to have that awkward conversation right now.

I reached over, snatching my phone off the bedside table and silenced the alarm before dropping my face into the palms of my hands. My heart rate wasn’t slowing down, and Foster’s eyes were permanently engraved into my brain. I thought I was getting better, but evidently not. Disgust and hatred were a deadly combination as they coiled around my intestines, reminding me exactly why I hated those boys so damn much. Not only did I hate them, but I hated myself for letting them touch me. For letting themcontrolme.

Fuck them.

Climbing out of bed, I changed into a new pair of leggings and a baggy T-shirt, not really giving a shit how I looked today. Exhaustion took hold, reminding me that I hadn’t gotten much sleep last night. It had been late when I’d arrived, and then the whole thing with dealing with a drunk Monroe. Not to mention that realistic nightmare.

I ran a brush through my hair and tugged my purple locks into a high ponytail before shouldering my backpack and slipping on my tennis-shoes. I already wanted to get today over with.

My mind was a mess. I hated them. I wanted them. I wanted to forget. I wanted them to pay. What I really needed to do was make a damn decision and stick to it. Blowing out a breath, my gaze traveled upwards to the ceiling. I’d never been so indecisive in my life.

My phone pinged, sending a vibration through my palm and traveling up my wrist. I lifted the device and peered down at the screen. My eyebrows drew together as I read the message.

Rocky

Look in your bedside table. You’re welcome.

I glanced over at said table, confusion burrowing through me. I already had a feeling what it was. The thing I’d requested months ago. My heart rate increased from the mere prospect of going through with my original plan. It would undoubtedly destroy Foster. But that’s what I wanted, right? To hurt him as he had done me.

Things are different now, though.

My subconscious mocked me with a twinkling laugh that bounced around my skull.

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