Page 30 of Prisoner

I can’t let this get to me anymore. I have the goddamn Districts to run. Everything now falls on my shoulders and if I don’t get my head out of this fog when I’m around Theo, I’ll fuck up everything I’ve been training my whole life for.

I just need to fucking get over Theo. Or fuck her to get her out of my system, then I can move on and forget this ridiculousness.

Yeah, that’s what I’ll do.

I stalk back into the bathroom, hasty and forceful, and my predatory eyes fall on Theo’s naked backside as she stands under the spray. I fling my towel to the floor, my dick finally springing free and Theo turns at the sound of the heavy thud slapping onto the wet floor.

Her eyes are wide, first looking at my steel rod erection for a beat too long before settling them on mine. As if sensing the shift in me, she takes a step back until she’s backed up against the wall. Her breaths are coming quicker, her chest heavily rising and falling at rapid speed as I approach her. She looks frightened, but there’s something else there too. Arousal maybe?

In a few more strides, I’m within reaching distance and I snake my arm around her waist, pulling her flush against me. She gasps at the movement and a smirk appears across my face. I like that noise coming from her pretty little lips.

I bite down on her bottom lip hard to hear her whimper like that again. She moans quietly, almost like she’s trying to withhold her pleasure.

Her hands grip my biceps firmly and I’m readying to lift her straight onto my cock, but she pushes me backwards and the surprise shocks me enough that my arm loosens from around her slim frame. Her eyes have turned from searing heat to a glaze of disgust, her arousal clearly diminished.

She reaches up to stroke her lip, wiping away the bead of blood that rose to the surface, my teeth marks visible on the inside of her lower lip. My cock gets harder, if that’s even possible, seeing my imprint on her.

Theo, however, doesn’t seem to be on the same wavelength as me and my anger starts to boil its way up to the surface yet again. I don’t know what she does to me, but anger is an emotion that constantly surrounds me when it comes to Theodora Harlow. Memories from before lit the flame and moments now keep it burning. I’m a constant fire ignited with gasoline whenever I’m around her.

After what feels like minutes of us staring at each other with pure hatred, Theo steps around me to walk away, but the red haze has fogged my vision. The sting of rejection is fresh on my wounds and my egotistical self will not let her get away with this.

She’s my goddamn prisoner after all.

As she steps around me, I raise my right hand, my large palm clenching around the back of her neck, dragging her back to the wall whilst my left hand grips her wet hair and pulls it tightly, exposing more of her neck to me. She gasps at the aggressive movement, her eyes blazing like an out of control fire.

She’s mad, but I’m pissed.

“Remember your fucking place, sweetheart,” I spit at her and after a beat, she has the audacity to smirk.

“And where’s that, King? In the shower room with Puck? In your shower? On your face? Fucking tell me my place and maybe I’ll stay there.” The venom in her voice is powerful, but she just woke a bull from a nightmare and my rage is at an all-time high.

I pull her forwards by her throat before tugging back down on her hair, forcing her back to arch and her head to dip lower. The spray of the shower floods her face, drowning her features.

She blinks multiple times, trying to get the continuous spray of water droplets from her eyes, her mouth’s dribbling with water as she coughs and tries to resist the pummelling spray making its way past her lips.

God, am I sick, or does she look sexy?

“Your place is with all the fucking lowlifes and scum in that prison. I took pity on you today. Don’t mistake me for someone who will do it again.”

Fighting for breath under the spray, I pull her head to the side to avoid her swallowing any water, and she takes a deep breath.

“I know you want me, King. Look at you.” She looks down at my dick, which is throbbing for attention, digging into her stomach. “You gonna let one of them touch me, huh? You're gonna let one of them taste me, too?”

She’s provoking me, but I’m the master of this game.

“Let them, baby. I’ve tasted pussy far sweeter than yours, sweetheart. You ain’t nothing special.”

I release her hair and throat with a firm shove, pushing her back into the wall, watching her slide down it and turning away from her. The flicker of hurt in her eyes is burning a hole through my chest, but I’m too riled up to care.

I’m lying, of course. Her pussy was the sweetest thing that’s ever touched my tongue, a flavour I could cherish forever and never get tired of. My last meal on earth before I die could be the salty wetness of her cum and I’d die a happy man. But fuck if I let her know that.

I slam the door shut loudly behind me as I enter the study, wiping my hands down my face.

“Fuck!” I shout, a moment of shame unleashing from me.

“Am I interrupting something?” Dax says from the corner of the room, an eyebrow raised in amusement.

Realising I’m naked, I cover myself with my hand, not out of self-consciousness, but I’m sure Dax doesn’t want to see my dick right now.

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