Page 58 of Wicked Ends
“Harder.” I’m past caring if someone in the hallway might hear.
Soren obliges. The sound of skin against skin fills the room along with my moans. I’m completely at his mercy, wanton and exposed, and I love it. Love the way the danger of being discovered—doing what we’re doing,wherewe’re doing it—makes me so turned on I think I’m going to lose my mind.
“Touch yourself.”
I do as he says, and slide one hand beneath me, two fingers on my clit, the extra sensation pushing me closer to the edge as he continues to drive into me from behind.
“That’s it.” Soren is watching over my shoulder. “Let me see you come, little witch.”
It doesn’t take long. The tension twists itself up, winding tighter and tighter, until I come with a cry that Soren muffles by turning my head and covering my mouth with his own. He stays inside me while I ride out the last flutters of my orgasm, then pulls out moments later, helping me turn around to face him on shaky legs.
“But you didn’t?—”
“I’m not some teenage boy who can’t control himself. I can last for a very long time. Hours, if I want to.”
I feel myself blushing, even after what we just did. “Oh.”
He pulls me close, his lips brushing against my ear. “Sometimes things are better when you delay them. The anticipation makes everything more intense.” His hands slide down to cup my bare ass, squeezing gently. “Besides, I want to savor this. The image of you bent over my desk is going to get me through my afternoon lectures.”
I laugh, reaching down to pull up my jeans. “You’re impossible.”
“I’m an incubus, darling.” He helps me straighten my clothes, his fingers lingering. He winks, then gestures to the door. “Now go before my next class starts wondering why the door is locked.”
I slip out, cheeks flushed, trying not to look like I just had my professor bend me over and fuck me. Based on the knowing look a passing senior gives me, I’m probably not succeeding.
Twenty-Eight
Rose
The next two days pass without any major incidents, and I’m occupied by my classes and stolen moments with my strange little family of supernatural lovers. Drake stays, present, though sometimes I catch him staring into the distance with a faraway look. Lucien is more vigilant than ever, checking in on me between classes, bringing me books on advanced magical theory and defense. Soren continues to be inappropriately attentive both in and out of the classroom.
It’s almost normal.
Which is exactly why I should have known it wouldn’t last.
The whispers start during dinner on the third day after classes resume. At first, it’s just slightly louder chatter in the dining hall. Then it spreads, table to table. Something’s wrong.
I’m sitting with Lucien, pushing my mashed potatoes around my plate and trying to stop Hank from stealing one of my peas, when I notice the change in the vibe. Lucien is picking up on it too, his head tilting slightly as he listens.
“What is it?” I ask.
“Not sure.” He frowns. “Something about a student.”
I follow his gaze to where a group is huddled together. One of them, a tall guy with glasses, keeps shaking his head.
“I’ll be right back,” I tell Lucien, standing up.
“Rose—” he starts, but I’m already moving toward the group.
I approach cautiously, not wanting to intrude if this is just some typical academy drama. But as I get closer, I catch parts of their conversation, and there’s definitely else something going on.
When they notice me standing there, they go silent. “I couldn’t help overhearing. Someone’s missing?”
The tall guy with glasses exchanges glances with his friends, then nods reluctantly. “Ella. She didn’t show up for class. No one’s seen her since the morning she got back from break.”
Ella. One of Thorne’s inner circle. A pretty, vicious girl who laughs at every cruel thing Thorne does.
“Have you told anyone?” I ask.
