Page 69 of Princess of Hawthorne Prep

With his hand locked around my hair, he turns my head until the side of my neck is bared to him. His lips graze the delicate flesh, teeth scraping over me before sinking into the tender skin. Air clogs my throat as he pins me in place, marking me as his.

We stay fused together for a handful of minutes before he carefully slips from my exhausted body. A keen sense of loss suffuses me at his withdrawal. It’s as if we’re connected and whole when he’s buried deep within me and severed into two broken pieces when we’re not.

The cool air of the room drifts over my exposed skin as he disappears inside the bathroom. I squeeze my eyes tightly closed and attempt to regain my bearings on the emotions that are rampaging through me. My eyelids spring open in surprise when a warm cloth is pressed to my pussy. When I struggle, he places a hand against the small of my back to hold me in place.

“Let me clean you off.”

“You don’t have to. I can do it myself,” I say, embarrassment flaming through me. After everything we just did, this shouldn’t be a big deal and yet, it feels incredibly intimate.

“I want to.” His voice softens. “So let me.”

That’s all it takes for the fight to drain from me as I allow him to wipe away our combined arousal. I have to admit that the heat pressed against my abraded flesh feels good. My muscles loosen as I sink into the mattress.

Once finished, he places a kiss against my swollen lips before padding back to the bathroom. I roll onto my side and curl up in a tight ball. A handful of seconds later, he returns and gathers me into his strong arms, pulling me against his chest so that his bigger body can cradle mine protectively.

It doesn’t take long for my eyelids to grow heavy, drifting shut as exhaustion sucks me under and sleep claims me.

DELILAH

When I finally surface again, night has fallen, and darkness blankets the spacious room. Cast in shadows, nothing looks familiar. For just a moment, I’m confused and unsure where I am. As soon as the first burst of panic floods through me, everything that happened this afternoon crashes through my head.

The excursion on Lake Michigan.

Austin forcing me to sit at his feet.

Snapping photographs at the front of the boat.

Aubrey knocking into me and then falling into the water.

Wait a minute…

Dad’s Nikon.

For the first time since Austin pulled me from the frigid depths of the lake, it hits me that I’ve lost my camera. It slipped from my hands and there was no way to save it.

A small sob rises within my throat as a fresh wave of grief crashes over me.

Tears well in my eyes before rolling down my cheeks.

I can’t believe it’s gone. Out of all my possessions, it’s the one that has always meant the most. Only now in hindsight do I realize that it was stupid to bring it along this weekend. Especially on the boat. I should have left it at home where it would be safe.

It’s only when I roll to the middle of the king-sized bed that I realize Austin’s no longer here. Heat floods my face and a dull ache flares to life in my core as I think about all the ways he laid his hands on me.

I don’t regret a single moment of what we did.

I refocus on the empty bed and wonder where he is before glancing at the bathroom. The door is open, and the space within is dark and quiet. There’s a stillness to the air that makes me realize I’m alone in the room. It only takes a moment or two for the soft strains of music to meet my ears. It’s muted enough for me to realize that it isn’t coming from inside the house.

With a toss of the covers, I grab Austin’s graphic T-shirt thrown haphazardly over an armchair in the corner of the room. As soon as I tug the soft cottony material over my head and down my body, I’m inundated with the fragrance of his woodsy cologne. Unable to resist, I lift the material and inhale a deep breath.

Who would have thought that someone’s scent could be so comforting?

Or such a turn-on?

Moonlight slants through the window and from where I stand, it’s easy to spot the flickering orange flames of the bonfire as they leap and twist toward the velvety star-littered sky. I gravitate to the glass and peer down at the scene taking place below. It’s almost a surprise to find at least a hundred people or so drinking and dancing on the beach. It’s debauchery at its finest.

I squint, searching the crowd for Austin, but I’m unable to make out any faces from this distance. There are too many writhing shapes.

Is Austin down there, partying it up?

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