Page 65 of Paper Thin Love

I want him to do it. I want him to shove himself deep inside of me. Take a part of me like he’s slowly taking everything else.

Dash King isn’t just a storm; he’s the entire goddamn ocean! Open, vast, endless; beautiful like Caribbean beaches, dangerous like the deadly deep uncharted waters, toxic like the creatures who lurk hidden under the waves.

Consuming. Captivating. Cruel and calculating.

“Fuck me,” I pant.

He squeezes my hands tighter, then he sucks hard enough to bruise my neck. I feel every tug and pull reach down between my aching thighs.“No,” he sighs cruelty.

“Please. Just take it. I want to feel what sex feels like with you, Dash. I want to feel you.”

“You have no idea what you're asking.” He sneers as if my offer of my virginity offends him.

I tug at my hands, wanting not to escape but rather to dive into this depravity. He doesn’t allow me to be freed, so the only way I can get more is to start grinding my hips against his rocking ones. Then it becomes a dance of lust and desire that is so tangible we both are panting into each other’s mouths, breathing a new dark life force into each other.

“I’m going to…” Oh my god! I feel the sensations building.“I want you inside of me.” I beg, but the bastard doesn’t grant my request.

My words plague him though. I can feel it with his quicken thrust as his hard cock hits my clit, stroking me faster and faster. He grunts at the same moment I scream out his name; we both come in sync. I feel his hot seed land on my stomach as he presses his forehead against mine. His labor breath fogs the air making this feel like a dream.

What did we just do? I glance down and watch the water wash away his seed from my stomach.

I was begging him to fuck me! Deep down I still wish he had.

Suddenly, he drops my hands; they fall heavy and limp at my side. He grabs my wrist, and I’m so numb I move like a puppet.

In a sharp movement, Dash turns my palm face up.“Eventually, Mila,” he begins, sounding so cold the warm water can’t stop the shudder that runs through my body.“We all have to get blood on our hands.” My lungs inhale in a sharp defense.

He steps out of the shower and grabs a towel.

Anger pours out of my broken heart.“I’m happy you didn’t fuck me. I didn’t want it. I was just high in the moment. You could have been any other guy.”

Dash slowly wraps the towel around his body, not regarding me. He walks to the door, then glances down at me over his shoulder.“Liar.” He smirks,“When you're ready to admit the truth, I’ll give you what you want, little fox.”

The click of the door sounds like the final pillar of my sanity crumbling. I sink down, bracing the wet floor as I try to catch my breath.

My eyes follow the water swirling down the drain. Therein lies the moral of his story. We can escape and feel joy and pleasure, but eventually, we have to get dirty.

Chapter 26

Mila

"Are you listening to me?" Mr. Binksy, the school principal, persists. His voice echoes through the posh, oak-paneled office, the polished mahogany desk, the gold-framed accolades, and the pristine Persian rug.

No, Mr. Binksy, I'm not. I'm thinking about the news that has spread all over campus. I'm considering what the students who found Mr. Leblanc must be dealing with right now. I'm also wondering why you are not questioning me to see if I might know who murdered my dance instructor and left his body in the studio.

I don't want to believe Dash is capable of this, but deep down, I know the truth.

Is that why he indulged me in the shower?

He did mention that, eventually, I'd never allow his hands to touch me because they would be so bloody.

After Dash left me in the shower alone and still a virgin. I fled from his dorm without taking a second glance at him. I was furious he didn’t sleep with me, ashamed that I begged him to. I was a complete mess after that round of mind fuckery.

When I was safe inside my dorm room trying to glue myself together again, was that when Dash did it?

A part of me feels a sickening need to stand from the chair and run to find Dash. I want to make sure he is okay. I know it is wrong. You shouldn't be asking the killer if he's okay but rather the victim.

"I want you to be assured that you will have a new dance instructor by the end of the week. We're looking for top applicants to fill the job. This won't affect any of your planned performances or your future in dance. I’ve already informed your father about this," Mr. Binksy says, his tone mechanical.

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