Page 470 of Filthy Elites

“The only way you get to come is by asking me.”

Her hips roll and a soft moan falls from her parted lips. “Please, Bastian, fuck my dripping cunt with your fingers until I come all over your hand.”

“Of course, little bird, you only ever need to ask,” I say, smirking as I force my fingers back into her soaked core, fucking her hard and fast as I rub her clit until her knees give way and she cries out, her internal muscles fluttering and clenching around my fingers.

“I hate you,” she whispers as soon as her body calms and she can stand on her own.

“No you don’t, little bird, you just wish you did.”

NINE

Starling

Hunter’s house is huge,not quite as big as Sebastian’s, but still ridiculous for just him and his parents to live in. If he has any siblings, I’ve never heard of them or seen them at school. After Sebastian made me orgasm with his fingers; he insisted on watching while I showered and redressed, his eyes fixed on me as if I’d make a run for it if he glanced away. I didn’t speak a single word to him and he didn’t try to make me, it was a refreshing change.

The media room is ridiculous, with a huge screen almost as big as the ones you get at the movies. Huge navy-blue velvet couches are built into the tiered steps, allowing you to sit on three different levels depending on how far away from the screen you want to be. But despite how big the room is and how many couches there are to pick from, the guys all pile onto a single couch. Their actions are familiar and practiced. Hunter grabs sodas from a refrigerator and what looks to be a movie snacks station at the back of the room. Clay scoops freshly popped popcorn from an honest-to-goodness popcorn machine. Evan selects several boxes of candy while Sebastian grabs extra pillows and blankets. I’m the odd man out and I find myself almost grateful when Sebastian takes my hand and pulls me down onto his lap.

Being around him is exhausting, he makes me feel on edge and jumpy because his mercurial moods swing from coaxing to cruel. I’m actually starting to believe this is more than just an elaborate game. The way he touches me, the things he says and the look on his face, it all seems too real, too raw and intense to be make believe.

If he’d approached me, been nice to me and then asked me out, I might not have said no. But that’s not how it happened and I can’t forget the glint in his eye when he forces me to behave a certain way. He enjoys it. He likes his control over me, just like he enjoys being an Elite and having power over a whole school full of kids.

What is it they say? That power corrupts? In Sebastian’s case, I’m sure it’s true. He’s rich, confident, revered, beautiful. Anything he wants he gets, but I can’t allow myself to be just another thing that belongs to him. I refused to be owned.

The guys chat between themselves, but I don’t try to insert myself into their conversation, I don’t want to be a part of their world. Instead, I fidget in Sebastian’s lap, trying to get comfortable, knowing that getting him to allow me to move will mean selling even more of my soul to the devil.

Earlier when I stripped for him, I thought I was winning. For a short moment I honestly thought I held the upper hand, after all, what could he do just looking at me? But when I was naked and his eyes were on me, I finally started to understand where the power lay—solely at his feet.

Everything he’s done, the way he’s behaved, has all been about him toying with me. We’re playing a game that I don’t know the rules to, and I need to figure out how I end the game without losing to him.

Maybe if the only players were him and me, I might stand a chance, but after only two days he’s already got my mom and my bestie on his team. I’m outgunned by him and I have no idea what to do to try and free myself of his obsessive hold.

Someone dims the lights and a movie starts to play on the huge screen. It’s vaguely familiar, a new release that Court suggested we go to the movies to watch. A sudden wave of exhaustion washes over me and I yawn, settling back against Sebastian. I want to leave, to go home and just sleep in my own bed, but I know if I suggest it he’ll refuse.

“You okay?” he asks, his warm breath against my ear.

“Tired,” I say wearily.

“Sleep then, little bird.” Pulling a blanket over us, he turns me slightly and encourages me to rest my head against his shoulder. I know I should fight it, but I’ve tried to fight today, I’ve tried to negotiate. All it’s gotten me is kissed in front of the whole school, a purple claiming bite on the back of my neck and naked while he touched me. So far I’m losing both the battle and the war; it’s time to regroup and figure out a new plan.

I must fall asleep, because when I wake up, I’m being carried in Sebastian’s arms. “I want to go home,” I mumble sleepily.

“I am your home.”

Vague memories of getting home and getting into bed, of Sebastian crawling in with me, his warmth pressed against my back, and his arm wrapped around my waist fill my dreams. But I wake up alone, in my own bed, wearing nothing but my bra and panties. Rolling to my back, I stare up at the ceiling. A plan came to me at some point last night, it’s risky, but it might work. Sebastian is all about reputation. His family name is powerful, he’s a force to be reckoned with at school and even at seventeen he’s a formidable opponent.

He's acting like an adult, so maybe it’s time to revert to a more playground-like defense. I’m going to make a scene. I’m going to wait for the perfect moment and I’m going to call him out, shout and scream and call him names. It’s childish and juvenile, but right about now it’s the only idea I have. If it works, he’ll be embarrassed for himself and of me and he’ll have to leave me alone because it will ruin his reputation to have a crazy girlfriend who acts like a ten-year-old. If it doesn’t work, then… well honestly, I’m not sure, but I have a feeling him taking over my life and bartering to get me naked will feel like a walk in the park compared to what he’ll have in store for me.

Dragging myself out of bed I get ready for school, and then head downstairs in search of my mom. I expect to find her in her office still in her sleep shirt, her hair mussed, her glasses askew, but instead she’s up, dressed and looking… good.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” she says in an upbeat singsong voice.

“You look nice,” I tell her, taking in her slim-fitted jeans, pale-pink silk blouse and low-heeled black ankle boots. She’s even styled her normally crazy hair into sleek curls.

“Thanks, sweetie. Miranda, Mary, Heather and I are going shopping, then out for lunch. They’re not picking me up for a couple of hours, but I was just so excited I couldn’t wait, so I got ready.”

“Mom, we can’t afford to shop at the same places as them.”

Mom’s lips purse together. “Starling, I’m getting a little annoyed with you trying to be the parent out of the two of us.”

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