Page 51 of Relapse
Good. Now I could do what I came in here for. One glance back at her panty-clad ass had me tempted to sink my teeth into those fleshy globes. And I might’ve, if it wasn’t for the angry red cut staring at me from her inner thigh.
I wasn’t sure if Harper could sense the change in mood. Maybe she knew what I was going to do. Either way, her fight picked back up.
My jaw twitched as her arms flew back and feet kicked. It was more of a nuisance than anything. I had that shit under control in a matter of seconds. Harper’s wrists were grabbed and held against the back of her neck, while I forced my way between her legs. It wasn’t her struggle that caused me to pause. It was what she said when I slid my palm around the front of her hip.
“Don’t touch me down there. It’s private.”
Did she just call that shit ‘down there’? Well, I guess that answered the virgin question. Still, it was better to be safe than sorry.
“How many times do I have to tell you? This ismybody,” I growled, and pulled her panties to the side, so I could slide my finger through her folds.
Fuck me, she was wet.
My intent was to shove a finger inside until I felt resistance – which I did – but the second her hot wet walls clamped around the tip of my finger, I snapped.
Before I knew what was happening, I had my cock out and was stroking my shaft. I wasn’t even sure how I got my belt off, or my pants open. The only thing I did know was that I needed release more than I did my next breath or hit of heroin. The way she thrashed under my hold only amplified the primal need crawling across my skin.
This is what I craved.
I needed to feel her useless fight while I exploited her vulnerability and took what I wanted. I needed to dominate and mark her. Teach the lying little bitch a lesson she wouldn’t forget. I wanted to see her down on her knees with her eyes full of tears while she begged me to stop. I needed her to hurt.
Like I did.
“Mason,” she cried out. “Stop it.”
Not a fucking chance.
“Shut the fuck up,” I ground out and pressed her face into the countertop. “When I want you to talk, I’ll fucking tell you.”
The tear that dripped from the side of her face threw me over the edge. I tore her panties off, roared and fought to keep my knees from buckling as I shot my load over her bare ass. For a split second I couldn’t see or hear anything. I was completely lost in the erotic bliss bowing my back.
It took a bit for my senses to come back. When they did and I saw the mess I’d made, there was only one thing rolling through my mind. Disgust.
I hated Harper more in that moment than I ever did. It didn’t matter how much I enjoyed the defeated sigh that shook her body, because she made me lose control. Control I promised myself I’d always hold onto around her.
Before I could do something else stupid, I stepped back and tucked my dick away.
“Stop crying,” I growled and walked away. “It could’ve been worse.”
Worse for who, I didn’t know. One thing was for sure, I needed to put as much distance between her and me as I could.
It wasa lot easier to avoid people at Mason’s house than it was at school. But for the past eleven days, I’d managed to hide away in solitude. Other than having to sit beside someone in class, that is. Not even Star could find me in my secret spot behind the bleachers. I’d sit in that cubby where coaches used to store equipment and watch her scour the field for me.
A part of me felt bad for hiding from her. Especially when Lana joined in on the search. But I couldn’t take any more questions or sideways looks. So solitude became my only friend, and it wasn’t that bad. Actually, I kind of enjoyed being alone. I didn’t have to lie to anyone if they weren’t around.
And the best part… Mason Kessler hadn’t said a word to me since that day in the bathroom. I’d see him making out with some girl in the hall, or laughing with his friends, but he didn’t so much as look my way. He didn’t even drive me to school. That job was left up to Marco. In fact, he was so absent that at one point I thought I might actually be able to go home.
That didn’t happen. When I tried to walk out the door, Louis stopped me. And the time after that it was Marco. So while I was still a prisoner, I was a forgotten one. That suited me just fine. My weekend was spent in the Kessler’s vast library getting lost in various fairy tales, and on the weekdays when I wasn’t in school I hid in my room. No one bothered me or knocked on the door. Well, except for Shelby. She visited a few times, but Logan always pulled her away.
So, all in all the past two weeks weren’t that bad. Actually, they were probably the best I’d ever had. My bruises were pretty much gone. I walked into school with a smile on my face for the first time in I don’t know how long. I was happy. For the most part, anyways.
I peeked around my locker door to the spot down the hall where Mason had Tiffany pinned up against the wall. She leaned into his kiss, pressing her breasts up against him. I couldn’t stop watching the way Mason’s mouth moved, or how his arms flexed when he tightened his grip on her wrists. It had always hurt to see him with other girls. Since our last encounter, it was different.
The ache in my chest was still there, but something else mingled with it. Curiosity, maybe? I kept thinking about what he did. How I heard him grunting behind me but was too afraid to look in the mirror. Humiliation and Mason Kessler went hand in hand. He’d embarrassed me more times than I could count. In that bathroom, I felt my blush spread through my entire body, heating up my skin while making things clench that I didn’t know could.
He'd violated me. Forced the tip of his finger inside me and I couldn’t do anything to stop him. That achy stretch consumed my dreams. Sometimes it felt like Mason was still there. I’d clench my thighs and swear I could feel his hand. I didn’t know how to handle it. So I watched him saunter around the halls, talking to girls, and waited to see if any of them had the same confusion I did.
Tiffany sure didn’t seem to mind it. Her legs were wrapped around his waist, flipping her skirt up so everyone could see her underwear. Didn’t she care? And there wasn’t much there to cover her up. There was a time and a place for G-Strings, and school wasn’t one of them.
