Page 9 of Beautiful Delusions

"I thought you weren't going to make me do anything I didn't want," I scoff, the taste of bitterness on my tongue.

Ezra's voice cuts through the standoff, gravelly and certain. "Oh, you want us, Feisty One. You're just intent on fighting it for as long as possible."

Heat creeps up my neck, staining my cheeks with a telltale blush.Stand up, Sophia. Leave.Jazzie's command is a lifeline. Pushing back my chair, I rise, my legs shaky but determined. I need to escape, breathe, think without their predatory stares dissecting my every move.

"Fine," I manage, my voice steadier than I feel. "I'll consider it, on one condition." I expect their immediate refusal, but Lucas leans forward, seeming even more intrigued. “No one knows you’ve asked this of me. Should I refuse, I don’t want any association with any of you. Not in my schoolwork, not with possible new friends. I reserve the right to walk away without being tainted by any of you.” My eyes settle on Lucas’ for a final moment before I grab the contract, turn and stride away. The room seems to close in around me, each step a victory and a defeat. They've gotten inside my head, under my skin. And damn them, a part of me is enjoying the dangerous dance they're leading. But I won't give in—not yet, maybe not ever.

Kyan moves around me, his steps silent, a predator’s grace in his stride. He leads the way, and I follow, feeling the weight of their stares on my back. The cool wood of the door looms in front of us, and for a moment, freedom feels within reach. When he doesn’t make a move to open it, I outstretch my arm, fingers grazing the handle.

"Wait." Kyan's hand suddenly clamps around my wrist. His other presses flat against the surface next to my head, effectively caging me in. My breath catches, the air in my lungs turning to ice.

"Just in case you need a preview of what being our pet means," he breathes, his voice low and laced with promise. His lips crash onto mine, tilting my world on its axis. The kiss is rawand bruising, stealing my breath and thoughts. His hand threads through my hair, pulling me closer until every line, every curve of our bodies melds into one. A tiny whimper escapes my lips, swallowed by his demanding mouth.

His fingers trace a path down my side, teasing the hem of my shirt, sending shivers coursing through me. I fight to pull away, to regain control, but his grip tightens in an unspoken warning.

He claims my thoughts, overwhelming my instincts with his own. Feral, consuming. My mind screams at me to push him away, but my body betrays me, melting into the heat of his touch. The shock of metal against my tongue pulls a gasp from me as I discover the cold glint of his tongue piercing. A thrill courses through me, pooling low in my belly.

Kyan's hands roam with possessive intent, branding me with every caress. I can't think, can't breathe; I’m drowning in sensation and a twisted kind of desire that should terrify me. His scent, a mix of spice and leather, fills my senses, intoxicating me further.

Abruptly, his mouth is torn from mine. Reality slams back as the door swings open, and I stumble backward, the chilled night air a stark contrast to the heat of Kyan's body. His hand snakes out, catching my waist and steadying me just long enough to confirm I won't fall.

"Consider that your first taste," he murmurs, his breath hot against my ear. Then I'm released, the door slamming behind me with a finality which echoes around the porch. None of which happened before I saw Kyan’s walls come crashing back down, a barrier to keep me and everyone else out. Regardless, I'm left panting, heart racing, a confusing mix of anger and arousal churning within me.

"Wow, looks like you got much more than you bargained for," Jazzie's voice is thick with sarcasm, coming from the shadows of the porch swing. My cheeks burn with humiliationand something darker, something I'm afraid to name. I draw in a shaky breath, trying to calm the tempest inside me. I can still feel Kyan's lips, the press of his body, the unspoken threat and promise mingled together.

"Shut up, Jazzie," I mutter, pushing away from the door. My legs are unsteady, my thoughts a tangle of fear and longing. As I make my way down the path, contract clutched in hand, the damp night air does nothing to cool the heat flaming between my thighs, and I curse myself for the reaction I can't control. Eager. I was too damn eager, too willing. No wonder they thought I’d be a pliable little pet to play with. Jazzie mutters her disapproval, trying to convince me there’s empowerment to be found here, but her words are drowned out by the thunderous realization of the choice still ahead of me. I’m insulted, frustrated, and more than a little aroused by the images flashing in my mind. Either way, I’m fairly certain I’m completely fucked.

The persistent hum of conversation in the canteen blends into a jarring symphony I struggle to tune out. My eyelids are heavy, my mind thick from the same vivid dreams which kept me awake all of last night. It doesn't help that my roommate didn't come home again, leaving me feeling even more vulnerable and on edge.

Those dreams have continued to play on a torturous loop behind my eyes. Hands roam my body. Tongues brushing my neck, my nipples. I subconsciously arch, biting down on my lower lip. Then there are their gazes…the way they wouldconsume me with a single look, melt my bones to jelly. The intimacy of it all leaves me shivering upon returning to reality. Why are they so intriguing? Or am I just that desperate for physical contact, I’ll take whatever I can get.

"Are you okay, Sophia? You seem out of it," Letty asks with a furrowed brow as she nibbles on her salad. I shake myself and plaster on a smile, knowing it looks as fake as it feels.

"Yeah, just didn't sleep well." The lie rolls off my tongue with practiced ease.

"Must be this heat," another girl, Becca, chimes in, fanning herself theatrically. It doesn’t take a genius to know she isn’t talking about the weather. My gaze flits across the room, landing on the Thorn Brothers. Lucas leans against a pillar, his smirk suggesting he knows every secret tucked beneath my facade. He wriggles his fingers at me. Kyan is somewhere in the periphery, his attention coming and going like the tide. But Ezra—Ezra is close. Too close. Laughter rolls off him as he flirts with a blonde who's practically whimpering under his touch on her arm.

"Looks like the Thorns are on the prowl today," Letty says with a roll of her eyes.

"Let them prowl," I murmur, even as their presence causes something to coil tightly in my chest. I feel Ezra's gaze flickering over to me, igniting the air between us with silent challenge. I will not rise to the bait. “Must be the heat,” I agree, turning my back on them all. The heat of those assholes surveying the canteen like lions on the prowl. We’re just gazelles in their eyes, and at Waversea, it’s always open season.

More women are drooling rather than eating, craning their necks to be noticed. Although, none of them are. Just last night, these brothers were propositioning me, and now they’re hanging around, not letting me think straight. And they know exactly what they’re doing.

Idle conversation continues between the girls I’ve claimed as my friends-to-be, but I can’t pay attention to any of it. I can sense Ezra getting closer, prowling for fresh meat. Soon enough, his booming laughter is emanating from our table. It’s an insult to my ears, coming from the Thorn Brother, who refuses to acknowledge me beyond a glare and a growl.

Maybe if you hadn’t tried to fuck him against the library shelves, he might have been more open with you,Jazzie murmurs in my ears. I drop my fork, giving up on my cheesy fries.

“You did that!” I whisper shout down into my own cleavage. The conversation around me stalls.

“Who did what, Sophia?” Letty frowns at me. I blush, keeping my eyes averted.

“Sorry, nothing. I forgot I need to…” I don’t waste time trying to think up a lie they won’t believe. Standing, I gather my tray, hastily throwing my napkin and cutlery on it. My oversized college sweater feels too heavy, my leggings too hot in the crotch area. Seriously, fuck these guys. Spinning and walking before my mind has caught up with me, I misstep, catching my converse on the wooden seat of the bench, and the world tilts in slow motion. The refillable cup of soda teeters dangerously on my tray before it cascades over the edge, its contents splashing across the front of Ezra's jeans, right over his crotch.

"Shit!" I gasp, heat rushing to my cheeks as I fumble for the napkins. My hand shakes as I reach out to dab at the darkening stain, but his grip is iron-tight as he seizes my wrist.

"Leave it," Ezra growls, the sound low and animalistic, sending shivers down my spine. His eyes are thunderclouds, promising a storm I know I’ll pay for later. Why does it always have to be him?

"Sorry, I didn't mean—" My voice trails off into nothing as he releases me and stalks away, leaving me standing there, hearthammering like it's trying to break free. “I didn’t know you were there?!” I try to placate him, but it’s no use. He’s already marched away, shoulders bunched and hands fisted.

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