Page 73 of Corrupt Princess

That sadness washes through his face once more, dampening the anger.

He doesn’t move, and for a few seconds, I think he’s going to ignore me.

But then, in a rush, he releases my wrists and climbs from my body.

He stands there staring at me for a few moments, giving me the chance to do what I was desperate to only moments ago and drop my eyes down his body.

Sure as hell, his cock is rock hard and desperate to get in on the action. The thought of exposing him and sucking him into my mouth makes me salivate.

And when I drag my eyes back up to his, I know he knows it too.

Part of me expects him to reach out, drag me from the bed and force me to my knees to do exactly what we both want.

But he doesn’t.

Instead, he does the complete opposite and walks straight out of my bedroom without another word and without looking back.

“Fuck,” I hiss the second the door swings closed behind him.

I’m on my feet in less than a heartbeat and standing at the door, my fingers wrapped around the handle. But I freeze right before I push it down.

I can’t chase him. It’ll give him hope.

I made a stand and told him to leave.

I need to be firm with that decision.

Going after him will only confuse things that are already beyond fucked up.

So instead of pulling the door open and chasing after him like my body and heart scream for me to do, I release the handle and take a giant step back, following my head. And I follow her all the way to the bathroom to take a shower that will wash his scent from my skin.

* * *

I don’t know what it is about the solitude of a shower, but the second I stand there beneath the insane waterfall raining down on me, I break.

Loud, ugly sobs rip from my throat as tears fill my eyes.

I’m not even sure why I’m crying. But I do, harder than I ever remember doing.

Sliding down the tiled wall, my arse hits the shower tray and I pull my legs up to my chest and wrap my arms around them.

The bandage that’s doing a really poor job of covering my shoulder and upper arm catches my eye, and it only makes me cry harder.

Picking at the loose edge, I pull it off, staring down at the puckered, red skin. My forever reminder of Nico. Of the level of anger he holds within him that can explode at any given moment.

Time blurs as I sit there, lost in my own head, my tears mingling with the water, swirling down the drain as if my pain, my frustration with this whole bullshit situation is nothing.

I don’t hear any voices or the door open, so when a shadow falls over me, I shriek in fright.

“Bri?” Jodie says softly as she drops to her haunches and reaches out to place her hand on my uninjured arm.

“I’m okay,” I say weakly.

“Don’t lie to me.” She gives me a stern look that makes a smile twitch at my lips.

“Do I need to send Toby up to his flat to beat his arse?”

I shake my head. For once, he hasn’t actually done anything wrong.

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