Page 63 of Wicked Ends
The knife moved across my collarbone, playing with my bra strap.
“As good as you are at playing with me, beautiful, I know you love it, and this. It’s okay; like I said, I love it, too.”
He ghosted the knife against my skin, and I shook. It wasn’t even just the implied threat, but the trust. He could hurt me, but I knew he wouldn’t. It wasn’t a feeling I was used to feeling toward a man. I felt like I was falling, and there was nothing I could doto stop it. Marcus drank in my expression, seeing more than I wanted him to.
“It’s okay to tell me, Ari. It’s only you and me here. There’s no one else in the world. There’s no judgment, no criticism; there’s you and me and what we do together.”
His blade sawed the edge of my bra strap. The sound of the material tearing felt like an alarm going off.
“What I don’t like is you letting that creep put his hands on you. That’s against the rules of the game.”
“Who? Wade?” I asked.
Marcus glowered at me. “You’re on a first-name basis with that fuck? Who is he to you? Has he been hitting on you? Asking you out? Tell me the truth, because I’m going to find out anyway.”
“No, he hasn’t. Tonight, he blindsided me,” I snapped, getting increasingly nervous about my bra strap. “If you cut that strap, I don’t have any other bras to wear,” I warned him.Fuck.This was the one bra I had that actually fit my larger chest. Still, that didn’t seem to deter Marcus even one bit. It might have made excitement flare in the depths of his dark eyes.
“You’re telling me that if I cut this, you’ll be walking around class, bending over my table, without a bra on?” His gaze strayed down to my cleavage. “And you expect that to put me off… like I wouldn’t want to see these fucking glorious tits swaying under your shirt?”
“Yeah, you and every other student in class,” I bit out.
He paused the cutting motion of the knife.
“Well played.” He pulled the knife away. “No one gets to see how your tits bounce when you walk, except me. No one gets to touch you, except me. I guess we’ll have to do this the old-fashioned way.”
He tugged the frayed strap down my arm and repeated the action on the other side, then tugged the entire thing down a few inches so that my nipples were on display, hard as little rocks and pointing at him, propped up by my bra.
“There they are. I’ll bet they’ve missed me, haven’t they?” he teased.
Yes, God help me.
“Were you always this arrogant, or has your head swelled up from being a fawned-over Ice God… a goalie nonetheless…”
He smiled. “I love how it sounds when you call me a god. Did you enjoy the game?”
“Yeah, I loved seeing you get in shit for being a hotheaded bastard,” I shot out.
The fucker laughed. “You know, until today, I’ve never taken gloves off during a match. But you, Ari, and our little game… it’s got me all hot under the collar. Since you started this, it’s your responsibility to deal with it, wouldn’t you say? Isn’t that what a responsible adult would do?”
“You’ve lost your mind. You’ve taken too many hard hits, and it’s all mixed up in there,” I accused.
My breath caught when Marcus leaned in, and his hot breath hit the sensitive skin of my nipple. His mouth stopped only a few inches from touching the hard, desperate point. My whole body tensed in the anticipation of having his warm mouth wrappedaround it. My breath came short, puffing in and out without mercy. I couldn’t hold onto it.
He nodded, the movement bringing his mouth even closer to my breast.
“Maybe so… right now, it certainly feels like it. I only have two things going through my demented mind… where the bag is, and what color you see when I make you scream my name.”
My mouth was so dry I was forced to wet my lips, and his eyes fixated on the movement.
“Sex isn’t music,” I ground out.
“Yes, it is. Two voices, two fucking heartbeats, two bodies colliding again and again… wet and breathy, soft and harsh… Sex is music, and you coming with my name on your lips is a fucking symphony. What color is it?”
I stared, dumbfounded, at his words. He reached out and picked up an ice cube, then leaned away.
“You’re not going to tell me? That’s cruel, Professor. I thought I was your favorite student.” With a wicked smirk, he clasped the ice cube in his fist and hovered it over my nipple.
The first shock of cold water hitting my skin nearly sizzled on contact. I was so overheated, so overwhelmed. I had no defenses against this guy. He was like no one I’d ever met before. He was charming when you least expected it, and rough and capable. He was talented and arrogant, yet disarming at the same time. He listened and remembered every single thing I’d ever said to him, and I wasn’t used to that. A man who paid attention when I spoke like every word was interesting… it was an unfamiliar feeling.
