Page 439 of Filthy Elites

Obsession – Gemma Weir

Prologue

Firm,unyielding fingers roughly force their way between my thighs and cup my pussy tightly. “This cunt is mine, it’s for my eyes, my fingers, my tongue and my cock only. I won’t share, and that includes you suggesting this could ever belong to anyone else. The only things that will be inside your wetness will belong to me. You’re mine, Starling, you always have been, so get used to it. I’ve owned you since the day I set eyes on you in high school and I’ll always own you. You might have run from me, but I always knew where you were and I always will. You’ll never be free of me.”

Shaking my head, I yank my wrists from his hold, trying to free myself, but all I can move is my head, so I shake it, denying his words in the only way I can.

His laugh is menacing and full of confident promise. Leaning down, he presses a kiss to my lips, resting his nose against my cheek as he pulls in a deep inhale. “Try and run, little bird. I’ll chase you to the ends of the earth. You don’t get to leave this house unless I take you. The entire population of the campus knows you belong to me, and your mom would love to know you’re under my care and protection. Behave and life can be good, fight me and I’ll make the me you knew in high school seem like a walk in the park.”

Tears spill from my eyes, rolling down my cheeks as I stare up at his excited eyes. He’s enjoying this.

I hate him so much. But I’ve moved on, I’ve put high school behind me. I’ve forced myself to forget him, or at least I’ve done a really good job of pretending to forget about him.

I moved halfway across the country, and only came back because he wasn’t meant to be here. But here he is, my tormentor, and the only guy my panties have ever gotten damp for. “I hate you,” I whisper through my arid throat.

“Good, I hate you too.”

PARTI

The Beginning

ONE

Starling

THREE YEARS EARLIER

“Starling.”

“Yeah.”

“Courtney’s here,” Mom yells from the bottom of the stairs.

I don’t have to see her to know she’s leaning against the stair rail, her hair still in a messy knot at the top of her head, her bathrobe open and revealing one of the massive oversize nightshirts she sleeps in.

“I’m coming,” I yell, hurrying to finish braiding my hair that’s in desperate need of a cut. It’s so long now, the braid almost hits my butt when I finish twisting the band into the bottom and let it fall over my shoulder.

“Starling,” Mom yells again. “You’re going to be late unless you get your butt downstairs right now.”

Shoving the tube of lip gloss in my hand into the pocket of my blazer, I grab my backpack from the floor and rush out of my room and downstairs. My ratty Chucks are still sitting by the door where I kicked them off after I got home from my late shift at the diner last night. I shove my feet into them while Mom waves a five-dollar bill in front of my face, her glasses balanced on the edge of her nose.

“I have money,” I tell her.

“You shouldn’t be spending your money on food, the money you earn is for you.”

“No, the money I earn is for us. I live here, I’m more than capable of contributing. You won’t take my wages toward the bills, so I can buy my own lunch.”

“Honey, I can pay our bills. I’m the adult, you’re the kid. My next book is ready to go to the editor, after that I’m going to take that gig writing instruction manuals for a while.”

“No, you’re not. You’ll hate it, and you’ll die a little more inside each time you have to explain how to insert a battery into a clock or whatever.”

“It’s regular money, a guaranteed salary each month instead of relying on my publisher to promote my back catalog.”

Shaking my head, I lean in and press a kiss against her cheek. “I’ll get a few extra shifts a week, I can help.”

Smiling a sad smile, she lifts her hand and grabs my face, squeezing my chin and squishing my cheeks the same way she’s been doing since I was a little kid. “I love you so much.”

“Love you too, Mom.”

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