Page 162 of Filthy Elites

Or for how long.

But if anyone is going to benefit from her betrayal, it’s me.

EIGHT

Reagan

Get up.

Get up.

Get upppp!!!

The voice in my head screams at me. Makes commands. Demands. But none of it processes to my limbs. My brain feels like soup. Swimming in soup. Is that why I can’t move? Can’t think? Can’t breathe?

Something heavy presses on my chest. I fight for air. To see. I force my eyelids open. Nope. They crash shut.

Weight clamps against my sides. I’m in a coffin. Dead? Again, I try. Blinking. Forcing. An image flashes in front of my eyes. Skin. Slippery. Sweat.

I fall back under. Or I try.

“There she is,” a voice cuts through the haze. “Thought you were going to sleep right through it.”

I blink, this time managing to get my eyes to stay open for longer than a second. The room is dark, but there’s someone on top of me—male. A man.

“Miller?”

That’s when I realize his hands are on me, pushing and pulling at my skin. My shirt is gone, and my breasts exposed. His thumbs roll over my nipples. I feel his weight on my lower body—my arms and legs trapped by his knees. He bends, tongue licking a hot path between my breasts.

He smirks down at me. “I knew your mouth was fuckable, but your tits… I have a feeling they’ll be just as good. Maybe better.”

I fight against the pounding in my head, the confusion, and the loss of control, and get a good look at him. He massages my breast with one hand and holds onto his cock with the other, sliding his hand up and down the shaft. The memory of him forcing it down my throat hits hard, and a wave of nausea rolls over me. Oh god. “Miller, stop.”

“Not until I’m done, kitten.” The nickname rolls easily off his tongue. He’d called me that in the pantry. “And not until you’re covered in my cum.” I struggle against him, but he’s too strong and I’m hungover or still drunk from the night before. He slots his cock between my breasts and lurches forward. “You owe me for not throwing you to the wolves last night.” He pulls back, humming in the back of his throat. “Instead, you’re just indebted to one wolf—me.”

My eyelids droop and he snaps. “Look at me, Reagan.” I force them open, and he laughs. “Good girl. Look at me while I fuck your tits.” He picks up the pace. “Don’t give me that broken, sad face. You’re the one that snuck into my house in disguise, looking to bring me and my brothers down.”

He’s right. I did do all of that. This is one punishment, by one man, not dozens of Zeta Sigs or the whole Greek community. All I have to do is survive this and leave. Tell Grayson I’m out. Go home like I planned and reevaluate my life. Or just crawl into a hole and stay there for the rest of my life.

While Miller violates me, my future flashes in front of my eyes. Every dream shattered. Now I’m a loser. A victim. The stupid girl who thought she was better than everyone else. I stare at Miller’s chest, at the hard muscles tensing with every push and pull. The carved V that points down to the weapon he wields like a knife. He’s perfection, cut from marble, forged by wickedness, emboldened by power and privilege. No wonder he thinks he can take what he wants—hecan. He does.

“Your mouth, those lips, these tits,” his blue eyes, dark with revenge, roam down my body. He grimaces and squeezes my breasts tighter, pinching my nipples and pushing his cock against my skin. “I bet your pussy is just as sweet.”

My lower body clamps up and fear runs through me. Would he? Of course he would. Why wouldn’t he?

Miller laughs, showing those white teeth and his boyish grin. “Don’t worry, kitten. Not today.” His neck muscles strain and his jaw tenses. He pounds into me, pinching and squeezing my skin. The valley between my breasts is slick with his fluid and his breath comes out in short, tight bursts. He grinds out. “This summer should have taught you that I’m patient. I can bide my time until I get what I want. I’m not fucking you… yet.”

His back tenses, spine going rigid. One hand shoots out and grabs my throat. The other, the base of his cock. I fight for air as he lifts the swollen appendage, shooting cum all over my chest, breasts, and nipples. Warm, slippery, heat slides down my skin and I ignore the feeling deep in my belly. The shameful, dark one that spreads down between my legs.

He releases me and smiles down, eyes hard and cold. “I knew you’d look good marked with my cum.”

I gulp for air, feeling the rush run down my throat. He climbs off me, freeing my arms and legs for the first time since I woke up, but I’m too frozen to move. I watch as he walks across the room, naked, smooth ass glowing in the faint light. He tosses a towel in my direction, stark and white against the fabric of the couch.

“Clean up,” he says, tugging up a pair of joggers. “Then we need to talk.”

* * *

His eyes are hard as he watches me wipe his cum off my skin.

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