Page 10 of Cruel Abandon (Fallen Royals 5)

Heat floods my face, and I can imagine how red my cheeks are. It isn’t just the pain. I hate that he managed to get this close to me. He’s comfortable, while I’m going to boil from the inside out.

All that’s existed between us since that night after Howl has been stony silence, save for one interaction. But there’s been plenty of things to keep him busy. Like turn the entire school against me, for one. Make sure no one wants to come near the pariah who snitched on Howl.

To say I’ve learned how to cope with loneliness is an understatement. I’ve made it my best friend. My home. My currency.

I think back to our last interaction: I was leaving a math class and walked right into him. He sneered, and I thought for a second he would smack the books from my arms or shove me away.

He did neither.

He stared at me like he didn’t quite recognize me anymore, and I considered my mission complete. My transformation was slow-moving, one piece of my identity at a time. Chess strategy played out across months.

“Get away from me,” I say now, although I don’t move. And I certainly don’t expect anything from him—but we can’t stay like this forever.

A thrill rushes through me, but I squash it.

He cocks his head. “Why?”

“B-because I said so.”

Instead, he comes closer. His front to my back. My wrists are released, and he cups my throat. Uses it to pull me flush against him. His other hand slides down my chest, over my breasts.

“You should know I don’t like being told what to do,” he whispers. His fingers keep going south, under the edge of my pants, then the hem of my panties. “I’ll take and take until you’ve got nothing left to give me.”

I suck in a deep breath. Why, why does my body flush hot—in a good way, I think—when he does that? When he touches me? It’s like I’ve been craving him for years and only just now remembered it.

He touches my clit, rubs small circles, and suddenly the wall and his hand on my throat are the only things keeping me upright. I brace against it, letting my head fall back to his shoulder.

“You’re soaked,” he says.

“I hate you.” I press my palms to the wall, biting my lip hard enough to draw blood. I don’t make a sound, but my traitorous heart rattles in its cage.

I haven’t been touched in a long, long time. And never like this, with a strange combination of fear and lust.

“Just admit that you want this, angel.” He leans in close, running his nose through my hair. “Tell me you love this.” His finger curls, dipping inside me, and I shudder.

Loathing crawls up my throat, restricting my air.

I could throw up.

“Stop,” I say. It’s more of a low moan, though.

My body is a live wire, and any minute I’m going to implode. Little shocks fly through me, and I rock my hips into his hand just the slightest bit.

“What do you want, Sky? Shall I rip this orgasm from your body?”

I squeeze my eyes shut. Before I can stop myself, I whisper, “Yes.”

He steps back and releases me.

It takes a second for the burning emptiness to register. He just… stopped.

Anger surges through me. I spin around, but he just puts one hand flat on my chest, over my heart. Enough to keep me pressed to the wall, although now I narrow my eyes.

Slowly, he raises his fingers to his lips and licks them clean.

My core pulses, but I clench my thighs and focus on anything else. I focus on the fury in his eyes, and then on his warning: to not do anything stupid.

But what is there stupid to do?

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