Page 77 of I Was Always Yours (RCA: Royal Crown Academy)

There’s no being rational where she’s concerned. Especially not when I’ve spent the last three days jacking off to that video of her in the ring.

Every time I close my eyes, I replay visions of her face first against the wall, hips arched backwards, ass out as I thrust into her like an animal.

Short of tracking her down and going for round two – and maybe three, four, five – I’d had to use the video I’d Airdropped to myself to keep my dick happy.

It barely did the job.

Now that my cock has felt the snug tightness of her pussy, he doesn’t seem interested in anything but round two with Six, no matter my repeated claims to her that any available hole would do.

My dick is red and raw and still sorely in need of a release. Unfortunately for me, it seems the only thing he wants is a mouthy redhead I’ve sworn to hate for all eternity.

***

I’m in the kitchen grabbing a beer when I hear her laugh. It breaks through the noise of the party, reaching me and slithering down my spine accompanied by an ominous chill.

I follow the continuing laughter into one of the mansion’s large living areas where we set up a beer pong table for the party.

Six is standing next to Nera on one side of the table, facing off against two guys from RCA whose names I never bothered to remember.

I cross my arms and lean against the doorframe, my eyes narrowing on her as she fills the cups with beer, a smile painted across her face in response to whatever Nera is whispering in her ear.

“What did I tell you about coming back here?”

Her spine stiffens and she freezes mid-pour as her eyes slam up to meet mine.

My cock twitches in my pants like he recognizes his master and I want to strangle him for being a new part of me that seems to be obsessed with her now.

“I can’t remember,” she says, her shoulder lifting in a dismissive shrug. She turns back towards the two fuckers waiting expectantly at the other end of the table. “Lads, why don’t we make itstripbeer pong?”

They cheer and dap each other up in excited response, no doubt whispering to each other that this is about to be the best day of their lives.

“No.” I command. When she doesn’t answer, I growl her name, “Sixtine.”

She fucking ignores me, putting the final cup in position and then turning towards the lads.

“I hope you’re ready to take it all off.” She says with a coy smile. She has them eating out of the palm of her hand.

A muscle tics in my jaw as my molars clench together.

Her refusal to submit to me only serves to fuel my rather newfound desperation to fuck her on this table while my hand grips her throat, cutting off her air supply.

I walk over to the lads’ side and tower over one of them.

“Move.”

He steps back with his hands held up defensively and walks away hurriedly, leaving me to slowly turn to face the table.

I grab a ping pong ball and deftly move it between my fingers while she glares at me, her fiery hair standing slightly on end like it’s channeling her anger.

She’s wearing a cropped leather jacket over a sweater paired with a black skirt and biker boots.

Her outfit is a little grungier than her usual style but she looks fucking unreal and has absolutely no idea the impact she has on men in general and especially in this moment.

I can sense their interest and feel their looks on her, waiting for an opening to swoop in like I’ll ever let them have one.

She doesn’t notice the commotion she causes for two reasons. The first is that she has no idea how beautiful she is.

She has no clue how every feature of her face is physical perfection, how every look of her twinkling eyes and smile on her full lips are enough to make any man want to commit a serious crime just for the chance to see them for another moment.

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