Page 27 of Touched By Sin
Leaning in close, he places a kiss on the corner of my lips, then smirks. “I think it’s only a matter of time.”
My heart is beating with a staccato rhythm in my chest. It’s difficult to breathe when he drugs me with his spicy scent and the desire he stirs in me. How do they get anything done here in the underworld? I’ve been horny since the moment I arrived. It hasn’t stopped.
His lips brush mine and his smile grows. “Pretty girls like you always beg, sooner or later. Just think,Aurelia,how I could make you feel. Imagine me driving into you hard and fast, claiming your virgin cunt, while you claw your nails down my back.”
His warm breath fans my lips, heating my insides, and I gasp when he skims his nose over my neck. The sensation he evokes in me is so overwhelming and powerful that I sink below his waves.
“Students, eyes forward,” the teacher, Mr. Kozlov, with the mustache, orders us.
I resurface, gasping for air. Ronan laughs when I shove him away before facing forward in my seat.
“Today, we’ll dive deep into ourselves to find our center. Can anyone tell me what resides in our core?”
A girl with a dark bob lifts her hand in the air, waving eagerly.
Mr. Mustache doesn’t look her way when he says, “Yes, Liliya.”
“Your powers reside in your center.”
I sit up straighter, ignoring Ronan’s chuckle next to me.
“That’s right. Very good, Liliya. I would appreciate it if everyone else bothered to do their homework too,” Mr. Mustache grumbles as he walks down the aisle.
“She wants his dick,” Alaric coughs under his breath, and Ronan shakes with laughter next to me.
“Who knew you were so immature?” I whisper.
Alaric winks at me and nudges Daemon’s shoulder with his.
Looking up from the phone in his hand, Daemon frowns. “What?”
“Didn’t you fuck her once?”
“Who?”
Alaric lifts his chin toward Liliya. “Her, the teacher’s pet.”
Daemon follows his line of sight. I don’t like him looking at her. Not with those eyes that flash with memories I wish he didn’t have.
“Yeah.” He doesn’t elaborate, and I fight the urge to strike the back of his head. I’m so sick of being a virgin while they’ve fucked every girl in the vicinity. It leaves a bad taste on my tongue to think the girls in here have had them when I haven’t. Not fully.
“Close your eyes,” Mr. Mustache says in a soft, soothing voice, unlike the sharp tone he used outside in the hallway earlier. “Imagine yourself walking through the forest. The damp moss beneath your feet, the bird song in the trees, the smell of earth in your nostrils. Somewhere in the distance, a twig snaps.”
I sink back in my chair and let his soothing voice carry me away, deeper into myself. My muscles relax and my wings slump, grazing the stone floor.
“There’s an old and weathered red door suspended in the air. It hovers just above the ground, slightly ajar, as if to urge you to peek inside. Twigs snap and damp leaves stick to the soles of your bare feet as you move closer. Whatever is beyond that door wants you to see it. It wants you to interact with it.”
Silence reigns inside me, supreme and powerful. I inch closer to the door. Whispers urge me to look inside, to see what it hides.
Come, child. Come closer.
Branches cut my skin, but the sting barely registers.
So close.
My hand lands on the door and I apply pressure to the weathered wood. It slowly creaks open, inch by inch, while I hold my breath.
Just then, the bell rings, causing me to startle and open my eyes.
