Page 33 of Kept

I let go of his hair to slam my hand over my own mouth, gripping the edge of the desk as I shook through the orgasm. I would’ve sworn that actual stars burst in front of my eyes when I came, Vincent doing everything in his power to drag the moment out while I clenched around his fingers.

My lungs were practically imploded from holding in my gasps and moans, and whoever was outside the door finally walked away, the click of their shoes as loud as gunshots until they faded from earshot entirely.

Vincent kissed the soft patch of skin just above my clit when I’d stopped writhing and fighting his grasp, licked his fingers. When he stood up, his hair rumpled and shirt disheveled, I could only stare at him, taking deep, ragged breaths.

I sat up too, automatically moving to shield my breasts with one arm, but he pushed my arm away.

When he leaned in, I didn’t turn away. I kissed him back hard, savoring the sensation of his beard scratching my cheeks and chin and how he gripped me close to him.

Knowing how close I’d come to lose everything had made the thrill of the forbidden that much more tantalizing. I really couldn’t claim to be better than them at all now.

“Gabriel was right,” he said, his voice as ragged as my breath. “Delicious.”

Knowing that they’d discussed me behind my back sent a flush to my cheeks. I broke out of his grasp, finding my underwear and pulling everything back on.

He fastened my bra for me, and when I had my dress back in place, he combed his fingers through my hair, smoothing its wildness as much as possible. I had to look up through almost a foot of thin air at him, wondering what thoughts were swirling behind those dark eyes.

“You can’t really mean that,” I murmured, still irrationally afraid someone was waiting outside his office door.

“If I tell you something, I mean it, Pet.” He sounded almost irritable as he finished smoothing me out like a beloved…pet.

Vincent’s eyes lingered on a spot near the base of my throat and I touched the purple mark there. “I’ll cover it with makeup,” I said, turning away. “No one will know.”

No matter what violent explosion of emotion our meeting earlier had created, it was over now. The time had come to sink back into my old, familiar role as the mouse, always hiding.

“No.” The Dean of Students lowered his head and kissed the spot, still faintly burning from his more punishing kiss earlier. “You’ll wear it as it is.”

It wasn’t like I had too many low-cut shirts anyways. Someone would have to really search to find the mark.

With anyone else, I might’ve laughed about them giving me a hickey. With Vincent, all the humor was gone. It wasn’t a bragging right to show off to other boys; none of them needed to show off. They knew they could have whatever they wanted, when they wanted it.

For him, it was a mark of ownership. Even if no one else ever saw it, it was still there, written in red and violet on my skin.

All that mattered was that it existed.

* * *

I keptmy hair down through my library shift to cover the mark Vincent had left on me. Fortunately, Mrs. Clarke was nose deep inSense and Sensibilityand barely spared me a passing glance, and most of the students who’d come in had the selective blinders of people who were on a mission and had no time for the library help.

Rain was falling again when I locked up for the night and stepped outside. The soft patter of drops on my hood were my only company as I strode down the path to the parking lot, sticking to the soft pools of light cast by the iron streetlamps and shivering in my thin raincoat. It was still spring, but my hands were cold as ice from the sudden drop in temperature.

A set of headlights flared up in the darkness and I paused mid-step. It wasn’t Rhett’s car, but a sleek charcoal gray Cadillac.

Vincent got out of the car and opened the passenger door as I approached. “Get in, Pet.”

My heart had lodged itself somewhere between its rightful place and my throat. The things they did… it was almost like theywantedto be caught fucking the scholarship girl.

“Someone’s eventually going to see what you’re doing,” I said, keeping my voice quiet.

Vincent gestured to the open door. “I don’t give a damn.”

He didn’t need to order me any further. I ducked rain spilling from a pine’s branches and tucked myself into the car before I gave any passersby more time to watch this taboo action play out.

The interior of the car was already warm and I held my hands up to the vents as he got in. Everything about the space cradled me, from the soft seat to the mouthwatering vetiver and musk scent of his cologne.

Vincent reached out and wrapped one of my hands in his own and I almost sighed from the warmth of it. Anything I could’ve said was stuck in my throat.

He probably didn’t want me to talk at all.

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