Page 8 of Claiming Pretty

“What are you doing?”

A voice shattered the silence, and I jumped.

Ciaran stood in the doorway, his sharp eyes narrowing at me.

I gasped. How long had he been watching me? Did he know what I was doing?

Panic clawed at my chest. He’ll tell. He’ll get me in trouble.

“I…” My voice came out on a croak. I swallowed and tried again. “I was just making tea… for the professor.”

His glare didn’t falter. I had no idea if he knew what I had been trying to do.

Ciaran’s gaze flicked past me to the teapot. His frown deepened as he walked toward it, his steps slow and deliberate, like a predator cornering its prey. “Brownnosing little Ava. Trying to become the professor’s favorite, huh?”

I stepped in his path, my arms spreading out instinctively.

“Go away,” I said.

He didn’t stop. He shoved me aside with a hand on my shoulder, not hard, but enough to make me stumble back.

“It’s not for you!” My voice cracked as I lunged forward, my hands fumbling for the teapot. “It’s for the professor!”

Ciaran snatched the pot off the counter and held it high above my head.

“For the professor, is it?” he said, his tone dripping with fake sweetness. “A little bedtime brew?”

My breath caught in my throat. Did he know? Was he guessing? My stomach churned as his smirk twisted into something sharper.

Tears stung my eyes as I tried to grab it, jumping to reach it, but he was taller, stronger, and far more stubborn. “Give it back.”

“What’s wrong, Ava?” he asked, stepping closer, towering over me. “Don’t want me to have a taste?”

“Don’t drink it!” I cried, tugging at his arm, but he twisted away, keeping the teapot out of reach.

He shoved me back, hard enough to make me stumble into the counter, his voice low and menacing. “Get. Out.”

I turned and fled the kitchen, my heart hammering as tears burned hot against my cheeks.

Oh God. What had I almost done?

I couldn’t move as the paralytic held my body frozen, unable to cry outstopas Ty licked my soaked pussy while he pushed two fingers inside and curled them around.

I hurtled toward the edge, the rush of pleasure coursing through me as I fought against the paralytic’s hold, torn between wanting more and desperately needing it to end.

The orgasm hit me hard, my whole body trembling as the pleasure crashed over me along with a dislodged memory, the last piece falling in place.

The moment I stepped into the sitting room, the world tiltedbeneath me, the floor dropping away as if I’d stepped into a void. A sharp gasp escaped my lips.

Ciaran stood there, looming over the professor’s motionless body, his broad shoulders rigid with tension. Despite the tautness of his stance, his breaths were steady—controlled, deliberate. Too controlled.

My gaze fell to the figure sprawled on the floor, the professor’s lifeless form unnaturally still.

I’d never seen human skin so pale before. It wasn’t just bloodless—it was translucent, almost waxy.

The oriental rug beneath my feet muffled my steps as I tiptoed closer, each hesitant move adding to the oppressive silence.

My heart hammered against my ribs, yet it wasn’t fear that twisted in my chest—not quite.

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