Page 85 of Cruel Elite (Princes of Ravenlake Academy 3)

Noah obeys, stumbling over a chair and his guitar before falling back onto the couch.

He takes me with him, pulling me on top of his body. I feel his excitement beneath me, hard against my leg, and I roll my hips.

Noah squeezes my ass, grinding me harder against him until I slip my hand between our bodies and into his jeans. He stills, breathing heavily, as I stroke him, moving in slow, deliberate thrusts.

He grabs the collar of my sweater and jerks it down, exposing my bra before that, too, is pushed aside. His mouth is warm over my nipple.

He gives my breasts the attention they’ve been missing, moving back and forward between them, massaging, flicking his tongue over my sensitive center, sucking until I moan.

I could stay in this moment for hours, taking the time to explore each other and reintroduce ourselves to our bodies, but there’s a sense of urgency.

Not only because his mom is somewhere upstairs.

But because my mother is still at home waiting for me.

Eventually, no matter how much I wish it wasn’t so, someone will come looking for us, and I don’t want to be caught with my literal pants down.

“Do you have—?” I start to ask, breathless against his lips.

He freezes, his eyes going wide. Then, he shifts me off of him, gets off of the couch, and walks through the door.

I’m confused for a second, embarrassed for another.

Did my question break the trance?

Is he just going to leave me down here, with my breasts hanging out and an ache between my legs that I’ll never be able to satisfy on my own?

God, I hope not.

Then, before I can panic too much, I hear a cabinet open, a box rattle, and Noah appears in the doorway with a condom between his fingers.

His hair is mussed and sticking up on one side from my hands running through it. His lips are red and swollen with kisses, and his eyes are bleary from being closed.

He looks like a boy who has been thoroughly ravished.

Though, not quite thoroughly enough for my taste.

I smile up at him as he tears open the condom with his teeth. “I still have a box hidden down here from before.”

Before.

That’s a good way to describe it.

Our relationship and lives have a hard dividing line straight down the center—before and after.

Beforethings went to shit.

Afterour lives went in completely opposite directions.

I wonder how much different I would be as a person—as a daughter, student, friend—if there hadn’t been abefore.

What if there had only ever been a present?

What if we’d been coming down to this room to be together for years?

What if we never stopped?

A kind of sad nostalgia fills my chest, but I try my best to beat it away. I don’t want anything to change how I feel right now.

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