Page 29 of Crown of Thorns
My stomach drops.
“That’s a no. You’ll love the colouring, by the way.”
“When did you…I was there…” Beginning of the week. That’s when I last stepped into my dorm.
“Which leaves me curious; when are you going to move in?”
“I… I don’t know yet.”
“Well, make it soon.” Louis just presses himself closer, arching his neck. He has taken off his scarf, I’m not sure when. All I see is his slender throat, an offering for me to grab. “Now, squeeze it, Professor,” he moans. “You’ve already got me so hard.”
“Stop it.” But the demand falls flat with the tremble of my voice.
“Feel me.” He rubs our groins together. “I’ve been waiting for your fury. For your frustration. You’re so angry with the world, aren’t you? Here.” He guides my hand to his dick and squeezes it. “Take it out on me. Make yourself feel better. Let me suck you, ride you to oblivion. Is that what you need, baby?”
White rage flashes through me as my defences crumble to ashes. He’s so fucking gorgeous like this. All malicious and bratty and too fucking much. I lose control.
“Little devil…”
I shove him back against the stone wall, kissing him like I want to eat him alive. My mouth crashes over his, teeth dragging across his bottom lip. I bite down, not gently. He gasps, and I don’t stop. I kiss him again, harder, punishing, claiming. Fingers in his hair, yanking. One hand clamps around his jaw, tilting his head to devour more.
He melts. Surrenders. Moans into my mouth like he’s starving for it.
I push my thigh between his legs, grind up until he whines, his whole body buckling for more. My cock throbs. My breath breaks. My head’s a goddamn firestorm.
“You fucking…predator.”
I shove him off me, chest heaving. His face is flushed, eyes wild, lips swollen. I want to ruin him. Worship him. I want him pleading, undone.
“No more stalking me.”
I glare at the letter and turn it around. “I’m going to need your word, Louis, even though that doesn’t mean anything. Don’t ruin my career.”
“Aww… are you begging me, Professor?”
“No, I...” Running a hand over my face, I push my glasses back. “No.”
He laughs at that, sweeping away the final bits of dignity, then pushes the letter closer to my face. “Just read the invitation, Noah.”
I hesitate, then draw in a breath. The envelope feels heavier than it should. I crack the seal, catching the faint scent of wax. The parchment inside unfolds stiffly beneath my fingers.
You, our brother, who carries his heritage with dignity and pride, who walks this world with his head high, searching—not quite finding—to belong. And belong you shall, brother, because today is the day that your life will change.
You are invited to become part of the inevitable, the circle of gold that will keep your spine straight and your dignity intact. To meld into a group of people who are like you, brother, who were once searching but who found—found—what life really means.
Loyalty.
Respect.
Tradition.
Sacrifice.
Tonight, your Initiations shall begin.
I look up, baffled. “What’s this, a joke?”
Louis shakes his head.
