Page 7 of Kingston
I have tunnel vision. I’m no longer paying any attention to the other assholes gawking at her. My gaze is riveted on her, and my chest heaves with each labored breath I take. She skims her hands along the sides of her body before moving them to the back, presumably to fulfill my silent request. Her breasts poke out proudly from her chest as she works the zipper slowly downward and continues the entrancing, devilish movements of her hips.
My brain is set to combust. I can hear every single metal tooth release as the pink fabric of her skirt begins to sag around her slim waist. Fuck, I love skinny skirts like that, no matter that this one comes all the way to her knees. It allows me to see the shape of a woman and gives me a good idea of what’s under it. Well-rounded hips merging with smooth thighs I’d like to have clamped over my ears as I feast on her pussy. I bite down on the inside of my cheek. I don’t even care that I’m in a room full of dudes. I want her.
She swishes to one side, then the other, rocking to the beat, hooks her thumbs in the waistband of the skirt and wriggles free, letting it hit the floor.
Jesus Christ. I won’t deny it. My dick’s been at half-mast since she walked in the door, but I’ve got a very definite problem now as my dick strains hard against the back of my zipper. Elliot wears a very plain pair of white cotton panties with her bra—the sort women wear when they either have their period or are sorely in need of doing the laundry. I can make out a dark patch at the front—pubic hair. Not that we gave her a choice, but I wonder if she realizes how see-through her underwear is. Fuck, the thought of peeling them off her makes the possessive animal inside me ready to pounce.
“That’s it, honey. Dance for us.” Alec snickers.
Immediately after, Joel joins in, clapping. “Turn around and shake that fine ass.”
Elliot’s cheeks are fire-engine red, the color overtaking her olive skin tone, giving away the humiliation she feels. But she doesn’t stop. She steps out of her skirt and kicks it right at Archer, who nabs it before it hits his face. She then slowly pivots in her sexy heeled sandals, pushes her ass out the tiniest bit and works it from one side to the other. She glances over her shoulder at me, a pained look on her face.
“Fucking hell. Maybe we shouldn’t complain about her sticking around.” My eyes flick to Stuart and his big fucking mouth. I really fucking hate the juniors who will be in control of this brotherhood next year. Hate ’em. And Alec is the fucking worst. I know from experience. I couldn’t fathom them with their hands on Elliot. It would have driven me insane.
My breath comes faster and faster; my heart a pounding jackhammer in my chest. I can’t handle much more of this. I tear my eyes from her to seek out Kingston.
From beside me, Zeke laughs, “Go ahead, Elliot. Take it all off for us.” That little fucker. I see the two initiates are also rather enjoying this, though they seem to know better than to say anything.Enough.
I stride forward until I get to Elliot, stoop, and take her over my shoulder, ass in the air. She gasps, the breath whooshing out of her as I grasp her hip with one hand and band my other arm around the back of her thighs. “What are you doing?” she shrieks, gripping the back of my shirt and thrashing her legs as I march down the front hall. Then, because she keeps wiggling as I head up the wide, curved staircase, I slap her ass to get her attention.
“Put me down. What do you think you’re doing?” Elliot hisses as she hammers her fists against my back. I come to a stop outside the door of the room reserved for our initiate. Kingston’s room is next to hers, with mine and Archer’s both directly across the hall from theirs. I turn the knob and push it open before I set her down.
Her chest rises and falls erratically as she takes in her surroundings. “What makes you think you can haul off and manhandle me like that?”
I roll my eyes in exasperation. There’s no fucking way I could let them look at her another minute. Mine. She’s fucking mine. She simply doesn’t get it yet.
“I don’t appreciate you smacking my ass.” Her chest heaves as she stares at me with her deep, dark eyes. I’d like to drown in them. My being vibrates with the need to touch her. It takes everything in me to restrain myself.
I tilt my head to the side, studying her angry features. Doesn’t she understand I saved her from further ridicule? I should have let it go on; it was her consequence to endure after all. And fuck, it’s not like I wasn’t enjoying the show. If I look deep inside myself, I’m well aware I took her out of there because I couldn’t handle them drooling over her body.She’s not theirs.
Gesturing toward her room with a pointed finger, I wait. Finally, she huffs out a breath and turns around, her hand darting out to the side to flip the light switch. The overhead light creates a soft glow, allowing her to see the king-size bed in the center of the room with the intricately designed wooden headboard, the midnight-blue duvet, and fluffy pillows. I watch as her gaze flicks around to the heavy furniture. She has a massive chest of drawers along with a desk and chair. On the other side of the room, a small seating area with a couple of plush leather chairs are arranged before a low table in front of a fireplace. The walls themselves are a shade of blue only slightly lighter than the bedding. And to top it off, all the artwork on the walls is very dark and masculine, obviously meant for a male initiate, complete with the Kingston University lion crest over the bed. I have to wonder what the hell she makes of all this.
As an audible hiss of air feathers from between her lips, my focus returns to her. The sound is somewhere between surprise and disturbed delight, but when she steps into the room and grasps the edge of the door, she forcefully attempts to swing it shut.
I block the heavy door with my foot and hand, shaking my head grimly as I step inside the room. Elliot immediately backs up, all the blood draining from her face. Apparently, she hasn’t figured out that she’s now, for all intents and purposes having to do with this brotherhood, under our control. Can she walk out?Yes.But she’d forfeit any chance she has at becoming one of us. And since she insists she has something to prove… well, fuckin’ prove it, woman.
Her old man wouldn’t like her being here, but as a brother, he’d agree she’ll have to put up with shit. She’s signed a contract. Things have already happened. She knows how we operate—or she’s at least beginning to understand. I step closer, a bit of an intimidation tactic.
“You can’t come in here.” She huffs out a strangled breath. “You might be able to make me do things under the guise of the initiation and the brotherhood, but I’m not your plaything—let’s get that clear right now.”
Sassy.I like it.My eyes dip to the bare skin on display, roaming over soft curves, plump breasts, generous thighs…Fuck,I want to throw her on the bed and tear those panties from her. The provoked animal inside me claws, trying to escape.
“Why won’t you say anything?” Her voice is breathy as she watches my body movements with wide eyes, betraying her fear. Because, yeah. I’m scaring her. And maybe she needs it. Especially if she’s ever going to stand a chance with Kingston.
Her question twists like a knife in my heart. She doesn’t know me. Doesn’t understand. But I vow right now—she will.
The already obsessed creature within me pounces in a split second, closing the distance between us. I grip her behind the neck, my big hand easily gaining control of her. Our eyes connect, and she lets out a squeak of protest as I walk her backward until the backs of her legs hit the mattress.
She lets out a nervous noise, but to my surprise, she doesn’t scream. Rather, she stares at me in shock as I lean forward, forcing her ass onto the edge of the bed. Placing a hand on either side of her, I duck my head right in front of her face. She inhales shakily as our staring contest goes on. She’s frightened, sure. But also, curious… and something else I can’t put my finger on yet. But I will. Because I’m going to learn everything about this girl. Every inch of her, inside and out.
My nose nudges hers, and I breathe her in, causing me to groan aloud, my jaw grinding hard. The scent of her overwhelms me—the same vanilla and sugar that clung to her shirt. Her chest hitches as she makes an attempt to breathe normally and fails.
I break eye contact only so I can skim my lips along her jawline and down her neck. Unable to resist, my tongue darts out for a taste. Her pulse jumps.
She doesn’t know it, but I’m dying a delicious death. I could put my mouth on every square inch of her body, and it still wouldn’t be enough. My head clouds as she whimpers, and I move lower, lips skimming over her collarbone. Another lick. Another taste. She’s trembling hard, and I descend farther, dipping my tongue in the valley between her breasts and inhaling sharply. Her scent is heady here, more potent. I turn my face to the right, where I can feel her heartbeat thrumming hard and fast under her skin.Fuck, fuck, fuck.I want her. Breathing heavily, I attempt to calm myself, but it does no fucking good.
I glance up to find her eyes closed and her lips parted. Her cheeks are flushed a bright pink color, but I’m unsure whether it’s from her embarrassment earlier or what I’m doing to her now. No matter. Pushing her back to the mattress, I bend at the waist, torturing her some more with my tongue, flicking it over her skin and dipping into her navel. My chest tightens like it’s in a vise when I encounter her white cotton underwear and drag my nose down, down, down. I’m drowning in the scent of her arousal and wonder, with the way her body has reacted to the slightest of touches from me, if she’s fighting herself.
