Page 75 of Cruel Academy (Princes of Ravenlake Academy 2)

Still, I manage to shake my head and then clear my throat. “I don’t know who you are to me.”

Haley’s cut-off denim shorts and hiking boots have been killing me all day, and now I want nothing more than to peel her out of those clothes and lay her back on the forest floor.

Whether she is my enemy, my blackmailer, or my confidante, I don’t know anymore.

All I know is, I can’t go another second without kissing her.

In one quick move, I pull my finger from her mouth, wrap my hand around her neck, and pull Haley’s lips to mine.

She stumbles over the uneven ground for a moment but catches herself against my chest. Her hands tangle in my shirt, and I slip my tongue into her mouth.

Who is this girl to me?

It feels like a question worth answering, but not right now.

Not when this place of uncertainty feels so damn good.

The kiss is a slow melding of mouths that grows more heated with every flustered exhale and brush of warm fingers over sticky skin.

I’m only eighteen, but I’ve fucked enough girls for a lifetime. I’ve had hurried exchanges against walls and in the back seats of cars. I’ve ripped buttons, scrambled for a condom, and pounded away until my eyes crossed.

But none of that compares to what kissing Haley feels like.

It’s the single most erotic thing I’ve ever experienced.

Her lips are full and soft over mine. She nips at my bottom lip and runs her fingers through my hair.

And when she moans …fuck, when she moans, the vibrations shudder through me and go straight to my very core. Pleasure pools in my stomach and neither of us is even naked yet.

I press a hand to her lower back to secure her and stumble forward blindly until we hit a tree. She giggles at the sudden impact, and then quickly curls her hand around my neck to continue the kiss.

With something for her to lean against, I’m able to free my hands for much more important tasks. Namely, sliding my hands under the hem of her shirt and skating my palms over her flat stomach and higher until my hands are under her bra and cupping her perfect breasts.

I knew her breasts were perfect even when I saw them from a distance. When she was doing yoga on her back patio and when she wore a low-cut tank top to school one day.

But now, I am sure.

They are firm and warm in my hands, and I roll my palms over her nipples until they pebble with pleasure. I pull away from her mouth to kiss her jaw and neck, and Haley rolls her head back and gives me access, all the while scraping her fingernails down my back and drawing me closer with needy, demanding hands.

Then, one of those hands finds its way to my waistband.

Haley undoes the button of my shorts with an easy flick of her fingers and then steals inside of my shorts quickly, almost like she remembers how I stopped her the other day and doesn’t want to get caught this time.

She doesn’t realize I don’t have the strength to stop her right now. My body is on fire, and everywhere she touches me I get a flash of delicious relief.

I need her hands everywhere.

When Haley wraps her hand around my length, I freeze, every nerve in my body responding to the slow, stroking movement of her circled thumb and forefinger.

She moves from base to head in a single stroke, and I think I might have an aneurysm then and there.

“Fuuuck,” I breathe, planting a hand on the trunk of the tree behind her for some stability.

She smiles and does it again, smoothing her thumb over my tip, swirling the wetness gathered there.

My legs are shaking, and I should be embarrassed by my absolute lack of composure, but I can’t seem to find it within me to care.

All I want is for Haley to feel the way I do right now.

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