Page 92 of Wicked Games (Fallen Royals 2)

“Do you know where Amberly is?”

Margo’s mother has been eluding me for too long, but not without help.

She straightens her maroon uniform shirt. “Is she back in town?”

“We both know the answer to that.”

“Shame,” Mother comments. “Rose Hill isn’t good for the poor woman.”

I shake my head.

She cups my cheek, forcing me to meet her eyes. Mother looks rough: circles under her eyes barely concealed by makeup, loose skin hanging off her frame. She lost weight recently. It’s been falling off slowly in the past seven years.

Guilt has a way of doing that.

“Tell Uncle David that I only have one college on my list.”

She raises her eyebrow.

“Columbia,” I inform her. I step back, letting her hand slip off my skin. It hovers in the air between us for a moment, then falls. “Bye, Mom.”

21

Margo

My floorboard creaks.

I open my eyes just as someone presses down on top of me, a hand wrapping around my throat. Caleb doesn’t squeeze. There’s barely any force applied to my skin.

I’d recognize him even in the pitch-black. As it is, moonlight filters through my curtains, casting strange shadows across his face. We don’t speak. He peels back my comforter, and I put my hands on his wrist. My fingertips catch his quick heartbeat.

He drags my shorts and panties down my legs. I kick them off, unable to look away from his face. It isn’t just the shadows—there’s darkness in him tonight. His fingers find my center, sliding into me.

“Soaked,” he whispers.

It’s an automatic response to him. Always.

“Did you enjoy girl time?”

I don’t answer. Can’t, since his hand squeezes my throat for a second, then goes back to the gentle hold.

I release his wrist and go to his pants. I unbutton them and shove them off his hips. He stands, removing them, then comes back. A condom packet lands on my chest.

I tear it open with shaky hands, casting a quick glance to the door. It’s closed this time, at least. He doesn’t climb back in bed like I expect. Instead, he pulls me to the edge of the bed by my thighs. I sit up and roll the condom onto his hard length. It bobs a bit under my touch.

Caleb releases a hiss of breath.

And then it’s on. He holds my thighs and plunges into me without warning. This new angle makes me arch off the bed. He stares down at me, and my cheeks heat. It’s dark, but I think he can see everything. He slams into me over and over again, our skin slapping together. I hook my feet behind him, lifting my hips to meet him.

It’s also…

Not intimate.

I reach up and grab his shoulders, pulling him down. He pauses, staring at me.

“Come here,” I whisper, scooting away from him.

He exhales, but he does. He crawls over me, our bodies pressed impossibly close. And when he pushes into me again, we both shudder. I wrap my legs around him, holding him against me.

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