Page 33 of Cruel Prep (Princes of Ravenlake Academy 1)

He slips two fingers into me and then another. There is no need for a slow pace. My body has thrown open the doors for him. I pick up one leg and wrap my ankle around his knee, giving him better access.

I feel Finn’s excitement against my thigh, and I want to see him. To feel him. I want something to wipe every thought from my mind, even if just for a few minutes. Even if it is just temporary.

But as soon as he realizes where my hand is headed, just like he did in his bedroom a few nights ago, he snatches my arm over my head and pins it against the wall.

His fingers curl inside of me, drawing out every possible sensation, and it isn’t long before I’m arching against him. Before my head falls back against the stall door, and I’m clenching his fingers while he nips at my neck and my collarbone.

“Hey, Finn!”

I jolt at the unknown male voice, but Finn isn’t surprised at all. He rolls his eyes. “Give me a second, Viktor.”

“I can’t keep watch forever. We have to get to practice.”

“Go away,” Finn barks.

The door closes, and the locker room is silent again.

The orgasm hasn’t even faded yet, and shame is already reclaiming its territory. My body is still riding the last waves of pleasure, and I wish it would stop. I wish I could turn it off. The feeling now and whatever perverse feelings I have for Finn. I want to turn it all off.

“You came hard,” Finn murmurs, sliding his hand out of me and licking a line from the base of my neck to my earlobe.

I feel like a puppet. Like an object to be used and discarded at his discretion with no real thoughts or feelings of my own. That is how he must see me, too. He brought his friend along, planning what he was going to do to me before he ever walked into the locker room.

He steps away and lifts his shirt over his head, and I’m stuck for a minute, staring at the hard lines of his body. Admiring the shape of the boy who has brought me nothing but pleasure and torment.

“Keep your clothes on.” My voice is hoarse, and I turn away from him. “I’m not having sex with you.”

He laughs. “You think I want to have sex with you?”

I raise a brow and gesture to him, making sure to put special emphasis on his crotch, which is bulging out of his jeans. “Maybe I’m not the one in denial about what I want.”

“You think I want to have sex with youhere?” he corrects. “While Viktor is shouting at me from the other side of the door?”

I stare at him. I’m supposed to be a conquest, right? What does he care where it happens or who is nearby? The idea that maybe this could be something more to Finn crosses my mind, but I swat it away.

Clearly, I don’t know what Finn really wants. Or what I want, for that matter.

Something like disappointment burns the back of my throat.

Finn gathers his shirt in his hands and steps towards me. I flinch away, but he pulls the collar of the shirt over my head in one deft movement, and then helps my arms into the sleeves like I’m a toddler. As soon as the material is covering me, he presses a finger into my stomach, right where the heat is building once again.

“When we have sex, we are going to have privacy,” he whispers, biting his lower lip. “And time. Lots of it.”

I should be horrified. I should tell him it is never going to happen, that I’ll never give myself to him.

But I don’t know that for sure.

I don’t know anything anymore.

Finn steps away and pulls his jeans down so he is standing in just his black boxer briefs. I try and fail to not admire his strong thighs and the sizable bulge between his legs.

“Take these.” He throws his jeans over my shoulder and walks out of the stall.

“What will you wear?” From anyone else, the move would be gentlemanly. But with Finn, I expect I’ll pay for his kindness later on.

“I’ll just wear my practice stuff home.”

I stay put in the damp stall, clutching clothes that smell like frosty pines, resisting the urge to bury my face in them, while Finn pads away in bare feet, his shoes dangling from his fingers.

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