Page 48 of Good Losers (Lochkelvin Academy)

“Win what?” I mutter, because from this angle, Rory is the one on his knees in front of me, building a slow, dizzying pleasure within my body.

“You.”

I nod, because it’s true. He has me. He’s always had me and been entitled to me. His father was never an option, merely a flirtation in my head, but now, now…

Now the entire world is Rory.

Now I belong to him.

“I didn’t get to see you properly when we were outside,” Rory tells me, his palms sliding up the front of my legs and curling behind the backs of my knees. I shiver. Idly, he hooks a finger beneath the fabric of my black cotton panties and I hold back a gasp. When he runs it along the juncture of my groin and thigh, I’m a goner.

I’m his, I’m his, I’m his.

He slides his tongue across the crease of my thigh, delving underneath the fabric to plant kisses across my curls. I clutch his fair hair in tight bunches between my fists, groaning at the sudden pressure. This is insane. Anyone could walk in and see us together, and the thought makes my heart thump a little faster in my chest.

“You’re mine,” he whispers against the tight cotton covering my clit. His breath is so warm and engulfing, sparks wrack up and down my body. I’m quivering just lying on my back and leaning forward, but I have to see this, it’s important for some reason for me to see Rory Munro on his knees before me.

It means something.

Because as much as I’m his, there’s something he’s neglected to mention.

He is also mine.

And so I direct him with all the entitlement of this realization. I guide him closer to my most private place, bestowing him access and blowing out a stuttering breath as he plants hot, forceful kisses along the fabric of my panties, pressing deeper into me as though to weaken the fibers and kiss the flesh beyond. He nuzzles the tip of his nose up and down my lower lips before tugging the cotton aside with his teeth.

More kisses follow, and I wonder if it’s possible to become drunk on kisses. I never knew Rory would be so tactile with his mouth — if I had known, I would have had him shut up long ago. I’m so filled, so swollen and pumped-up with this novel affection. Part of me doesn’t want to give in to this. I know all too well that the more attention Rory deigns to lavish on me, the more susceptible I’ll be down the line to the cruelty of his heart.

And I don’t want to be hurt. I don’t want to be hurt again. I don’t think I could take it anymore.

But his mouth is soft and sweet against my folds, a possessive little hunter that takes and takes me for himself. He floods a cleansing pleasure through my body in slick sweeps of his tongue, from the hot wet heat of my entrance to the hard little nub of my clit. Over and over, he slides the flat of his tongue over every inch of me, covering me in long, languid licks as though to feast on all of me at once.

I become a gibbering wreck, moaning beneath his mouth. I’ve never experienced anything like this and… it’s shockingly intimate, especially from a boy like Rory, who keeps his cards close to his chest and thinksloveis a word too large for him.

This feels like love.

I fall back onto the piste, the bright lights shining like twin suns, dazzling me as I careen closer to a peak that’s almost out of reach, the crest of a mountain with a storm riding on top of it. A gentle thumb swirls around my clit, and it feels like I’m clockwork, a wound-up mechanical doll with a tightening coil inside me. I’m blinded by sensation fanning through my body from the pinpoint of my clit, and when Rory’s tongue enters me slowly, a squeezing ease of pressure in an area already fit to explode, I cry aloud, my hips rising and my body clenching around Rory in tight waves as I ride him, grinding myself into his pouty, pliant mouth as I chase that sweet ache that’ll make me unravel.

And like a ribbon, I unfurl to the floor, my hips crashing onto the piste as I give an almighty, convulsing shudder and cry. I spill into Rory’s mouth, and Rory drinks and drinks and drinks like the nectar I’ve created is a gift for him, supping at my entrance like a man who wants more.

When I shift my hips away from him weakly, lying collapsed and spread-eagled to the side, he peers up at me, his jaw and mouth shining with my release. His gray eyes glitter with a kind of boyish triumph that makes me want to roll mine, but I’m too tired, too weak, too satisfied to be a snarky jerk after such kindness.

“You like that?” Rory asks in a low tone, and I give him an answeringMmmmas my eyes slide shut. “Because I’m going to reward you with so many orgasms you won’t be able to think straight.” He kisses my clit as though signing his name on an official document. “So many orgasms, you’ll never even hesitate about coming to me. About coming for me. About beingmine, and never my father’s. Understand?”

Again, I give him a sleepyMmmm, and the world falls to darkness around me.

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