Page 200 of The Invite
“It’s an old photo of the football captain, Jake Harper, and one of the players from the rival team in the locker room. It floated around the school two years ago. I edited it a bit so it will take others time to recognize it’s not Kenny.”
I digest the information, impressed by his cleverness. Logging out, he signs into another fake account—guess I shouldn’t have wasted time creating one myself—and begins totype his best friend’s secret. Guilt eats at me, and I whisper, “We don’t have to do this, August.”
“I told you I’m not compromising with your safety,” he retorts darkly. “Especially not after what you went through. Maverick doesn’t care if it gets out. So, relax. The bastard will probably like the fanfare and the easy pussy he’ll get.”
My nose scrunches at his crude words but I’m relieved that Maverick won’t be hurt.
Once Augustus is finished posting it, he turns off the computer. I still can’t help worrying about tomorrow. I become jittery thinking about the mayhem that’s to come. Noticing the tension in my limbs, Augustus runs his palms up and down my thighs soothingly. Nuzzling my neck, he says, “It’s done now. There’s nothing we can do until tomorrow.”
“Promise me you’ll stay safe and not go anywhere alone.”
The tangible concern in my tone freezes him. Turning me sideways, he brings my face to his and brushes his lips over mine. “I’m nothing like Johnny, honey. Violence and blood aren’t new to me. Even if I’m bruised and beaten, I’ll never leave your side. I’myourdevil. Not even God has the power to take me away from you.”
Crushing my mouth with his, he eviscerates all my doubts. The earth tilts as he rises and carries us somewhere without breaking the rough kiss. I lick his top lip and bite down, earning a soft hiss.
Lord! I love kissing him.
The second my feet hit the ground, impatient hands yank down my leggings until the only thing separating my naked body from him is the flimsy shirt. I wait for him to rip it off next but instead, his touch completely vanishes.
I blink my eyes open to the breathtaking vision of his cut torso as he whips off his shirt. I brush my palm down the valleyof his toned abs. His body is a work of art, with not an ounce of fat.
I get to admire him for a second before he turns around and walks across the room. The back muscles shifting damn temptingly. How often does he work out?
My heart hammers when he grabs a black ski mask and the creepyScreammask from the hook. What is he going to do? I’m all hot and bothered by the anticipation. The cruel edging of the last hour has me so wound up that one flick on my clit will make me climax.
He returns after pressing a switch on the wall that instantly dims the lights, adding to the sexual tension and carnal promises swirling in the room.
The electric fear that sparks lust in my blood creeps in. I swallow when he stops to tower over me with a menacing expression. Of their own accord, my feet stumble back until I meet a wall. Augustus crowds me against it with delight shining in his coal eyes and rests one elbow beside my head.
My nipples tighten when he runs the edge of theScreammask down the middle of my slowly rising chest. “I’m going to ask you questions and you’re going to answer me truthfully.”
A shaky nod of my head follows.
“Did the video I recorded of us make you hot?”
The question makes me crimson and a bit of shame slinks in because the truth is a resounding yes. He was my tormentor. I hated him. It was fucked up and wrong. Yet I got a thrill as I watched it.
“Answer me,” Augustus coaxes by slapping the white-faced mask against my nipple.
It takes me by surprise, and I gasp, “Yes.”
“Did it make your pussy wet when you thought I put it up for the world to see?” The question is asked with a stinging slap on my other nipple.
A lone tear slides down my cheek, causing Augustus’s eyes to zoom on it and flare with thirst. It emboldens me to push past my inhibitions, and admit, “It made me wet. I felt desired.”
It was the combination of the taboo nature, his debauchery and utter lack of regard for my boundaries, and my lack of control that eroded my common sense.
It’s like being kidnapped all those years ago flipped a switch in my brain, altered its chemistry, and wired it into craving darkness. The violence I endured manifested into lusting for the twisted.
“You loved it when I broke into your bedroom and ravaged you while you slept, didn’t you?” he growls wickedly as he lowers the mask near the hem of my shirt. “Was it my mask that turned you on or being my helpless prey?” My knees buckle and I trip over my words when he dips it underneath to trail it up my inner thigh. “Maybe it was both.”
My head drops when he presses the edge right against my folds. It’s the perfect blend of smooth and rough, providing delicious friction.
“Answer. Me,” Augustus sharply demands, pulling his hand away.
“Yes!” I cry out, needing the friction back. “Everything about you turns me on.”
Our eyes lock right as he parts my slit with the mask and grounds the edge against my clit. Twisting his wrist, he glides it back and forth on my pussy. Too gently to push me over the cliff.
