Page 190 of Filthy Elites

He mulls that over. “He just picked you up and left?”

“God, yes, Miller. What’s your problem?”

“I didn’t want you to fuck this up somehow,” he sneers, “and blow your cover and fuck both of us.”

“What I did was cover Zeta Sig’s sorry ass by not letting them get a rape accusation.” Anger wells in me. I reach into my pocket and pull out the condom Royer gave me and throw it at him. “And what the fuck is that?”

He catches it mid-air but doesn’t even look at it before he tucks it in his pocket. “Insurance.”

“Royer said you only use condoms with ‘chits.’ What does that mean?”

“It’s the girls lured in just to fuck with. They’re not the frat-rats who come to the party knowing they’re going to get laid. You wear a condom to make sure there’s no DNA left in her pussy if she tries to report it.”

“God, you guys are sick.” The sound that comes out is caught somewhere between a laugh and cry. “No wonder you picked a farm. You’re fucking pigs.”

The urge to lash out is strong, and I take both hands and shove them against his chest. He circles my wrists and holds me against him. “You’re the one that wanted to do this, kitten, to get your petty little revenge. Don’t act like anyone’s forcing you to do anything.”

I look up at him, for once not afraid to meet his gaze. “You mean like sucking you off? Or letting you come all over me?

“It’s not my fault you’re shitty at undercover. You agreed to that, too.”

“If you believe that, you’re delusional.” I try to escape his grip, but he holds on tight. “I fucking hate you. I hateyou.I hate Royer. I hate Knox and Rat. I hate how this whole fucking thing has overtaken my life!”

He drops his head and speaks right into my ear. “Why? So you can go back to being one of those vapid bitches at the party tonight? Another girl flaunting your tits in a string bikini? Is that what you really want?”

Yes, I want to tell him, but also… no. I don’t know, anymore. “I can’t ever be that girl again. Not after knowing who you really are.”

“And exactly who is that, Reagan?” His lips curve in a dark grin.

“You’re a soul sucking, manipulative, entitled, spoiled monster.”

The grin vanishes. “What’s the point of being civil then?” he says, forcing my hands behind my back. His pelvis bumps against mine, and there’s no mistaking the hard bulge of his aroused cock. I struggle against him, but he only tightens his grip. “You want to see the monster inside?” He flings me on the bed and climbs on top of me, knees pinning me in. “I’m happy to let him loose.”

“Miller no—”

His mouth crashes against mine, lips rough and punishing. It’s a different sort of kiss than the one I just shared with Grayson—although equally thrilling. His hands push at the hem of my shirt, and he only backs off long enough to yank it over my head. “You call me manipulative,” he says, palms covering my tits, squeezing them together. “You used these to get exactly what you wanted tonight. Those clerks would have done anything to get a taste of them.”

“That wasn’t—” he kisses me again, pinching my nipple between his fingers. I cry out, but he swallows it, sweeping his tongue against mine. After a moment of push and pull, of forcefully coaxing mine into compliancy, he eases back.

His nose is inches from mine, and his finger gently runs between my breasts down to my navel. His tone is oh so innocent when he asks, “That wasn’t what? What bitches do to get what they want? Show off their bodies? Tease and taunt?”

I clamp my knees shut, but he uses his knees to keep them open, grinding his pelvis against mine. Traitorous heat burns between my legs and my hips buck back on impulse, seeking friction. “Stop—” I cry, working my hands between us and trying to push him back. He’s too big—too strong.

To my shock, he jumps off, but it’s immediately obvious that he’s not done. He reaches over his head and pulls off his shirt, revealing smooth tan skin and the ladder of muscles running down his abdomen. I watch him, aware of the hot burn in my lower belly. Hating myself for it.

“Tell me, kitten. Is that what you really want? For me to stop?”

Whatdo Iwant? When has that ever been anyone’s concern? But the dark glint in his eye, and the way his Adam’s apple bobs in his throat, brings about a wave of desire.

I just want to make this night something other than a tragic shit-show.

To feel something other than lost. I want to feel like a girl who is wanted, not just used.

A hot tear builds in the corner of my eye, and no matter how hard I try, I can’t keep it from falling.

He steps forward and wipes the tear off my cheek. Again, he asks, “What doyouwant, Reagan?”

“Don’t pretend like you care.” I look up at him, absorbing the warm skin and dangerous glint in his eye. “I know you’re going to punish me for leaving with Janelle. For protecting her and risking this whole mission. You should just do it. Punish me. I deserve it.”

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