Page 20 of The Devil

“Spanking?” he whispers with a devilish quirk of his brow.

Once again, he takes the glass from me, only this time, he places it onto the floor beneath the bench. Before I can protest, he places his thumb pads against my cheeks and begins stroking them gently, all the while looking intensely into my eyes. The feeling of his skin on mine is surprisingly relaxing, so I place my hands over his wrists, keeping him there, surprising both of us. His mouth drops open and he looks conflicted, as though he wants to do something, but knows that he probably shouldn’t. Then again, I probably shouldn’t be waiting for him to press his mouth to mine, but I can’t help it; I want him to.

“I have to warn you, Topolina,” he whispers as he leans in close, so much so, our lips are almost touching. It’s different this time, I’m aching for it. I want it so badly; I find myself squeezing my thighs together. It’s unsettling.

“I am not good for any girl, but especially not for you. I will give and I will take, but I will never hold back, even if it breaks you. Do you understand?” I’m not entirely sure what he means, but I find myself nodding, albeit slowly and cautiously. “I want to fucking consume you, Helena!”

I offer him nothing but a look of wanting, even when he closes his eyes and breathes in deeply like an addict trying to resist his next fix. Thinking back to Meri’s words at the mall, I decide to take a risk, make the wrong decision, and live with the consequences. At least I’ll enjoy the ride.

I slide my hands all the way up his arms until I reach the back of his neck where I begin lacing my fingers through his hair. I explore him for a moment or two, indulging in the feel of him inside of my hands, but then, without opening his eyes, he pulls me over his lap. My body straddles his when he kisses me roughly, primally, fully. His hands run up and down my back while his hips slam against mine through the thin layers of our clothing. He is as hard as steel as he thrusts his groin into me, using my behind as an anchor with his hands. As I gasp for breath, his mouth moves down the column of my neck, nipping and sucking, causing me to moan over the new sensations. The sexual sounds falling from my lips prompt him to lift me up and lie me down along the bench, with him soon crawling on top of me where he begins thrusting.

Loose, Helena, you’re behaving like a loose girl; loose girls have bad reputations. What would your family think if they could see you now? What would your daddy say?

With little effort, Lucius moves my hands above my head and locks them in place, pinning me to the wooden slats below. And God, I want so much more of him, and I know he is ready to take me in anyway he can.

Good girls don’t behave like this, Helena, where has my good girl gone?

When he moves his hand down to my soaking wet panties and tries to reach beneath the cotton, I recoil and push him away from me.

“No, please, stop…I can’t!” I gasp. “I’m sorry, I can’t.”

He jumps away from me like my body is made of fire, then whips his hands up in a defensive stance. I immediately sit up, straightening my dress while keeping my eyes shamefully to the ground. When I eventually look up into his eyes, I can’t make out if he’s hurt or angry. He’s pacing with his hands running through his hair in frustrated, rough, and angry movements. It’s scaring me so I decide to remain quiet; I’m embarrassed and feeling angry with myself too.

After a few tense moments, he reaches for my glass and launches it across the garden in a fit of rage. His jaw clenches when he sees it smash into smithereens on the path up ahead. The shock brings tears to my eyes and a whimper escapes through my lips without warning. He spins around to face me, and I physically flinch. If looks could kill, I would be six feet under in an instant.

Unable to bear his stern and angry stare, I break our eye contact. He says nothing. Instead, he turns once more to walk away with angry strides against the gravel beneath his feet. I physically shudder when I eventually hear the slam of a door in the distance. It is only then that I allow myself to wrap my arms around my knees and let the tears run over my cheeks in long, unforgiving streams.

I stayed outside until about four in the morning, trying to think about what to do next. What on earth is going on with me? Why am I falling for someone who everyone has warned me not to go near? Do I feel angry about what happened, or do I feel guilty? I know I feel utterly humiliated, not by Lucius, but myself. Fear got the better of me and I couldn’t go through with it, but deep down, I know I led him on, only to withdraw at the last minute. The words ‘cock tease’ spring to mind and I physically cringe over how pathetic I must have looked to someone like Lucius. But he doesn’t know what it’s like, doesn’t understand the pressure I feel to be my father’s perfect little girl; to always be thegoodgirl. It’s been drilled into me for as long as I can remember.

“Girls don’t get away with what boys do. Girls who act loose never shake their reputation. Be good, Helena, and you’ll be happy.”

Time to try and forget it ever happened. Move on and accept the fact that boys like Lucius aren’t for girls like me. Except… I have that annoying part of my brain that saves up these sorts of horrible and humiliating memories. Each one to consistently replay in bright technicolor. I’ll never be able to forget the look on his face before he stormed away. He’ll no doubt avoid me until I leave this place, when he can pretend I don’t exist. And stupidly, I feel sad about that.

It takes hours to fall into a restless sleep where I have a series of anxious dreams. Dreams of being trapped or running away, only to find myself wading through glue. I have night sweats on and off until eventually, I wake up and have to shower. As I’m drying myself off, I hear my phone ringing. It hasn’t done that since I arrived, so I run to grab it, hitting my ankle on the way over, but continuing to run through the pain so it doesn’t ring off.

“Ow, shit, fuck, hello?” I answer, wincing over my foot, which is going to have one huge bruise on it.

“Hey, Hels,” Nate beams down the phone to me; I still can’t get used to his broken voice. He sounds so manly, but to me, he’s my kid brother who has Star Wars toys hidden under his bed, alongside Lego he still builds models with when he thinks no one is watching.

“Haven’t interrupted anything, have I?” he asks with a theatrically suggestive tone of voice.

“No, course not,” I reply, fake smiling from ear to ear. “How are you? I’m missing everyone.”

“I’m good,” he says cheerfully, “apart from setting off a girl fight. I bet I’m still having a better time than you though, especially with Lucius Hastings sleeping down the hall.”

“Er…yeah,” I reply, blushing over the thought of last night’s humiliation. “Causing heartbreak and mayhem, are you?”

“Ah, only a now and then,” he giggles, bringing out the little boy in him. “But how are you, sis? Are you managing to get out more?”

“No, not really. I’m fine though, can’t complain really.”

“You’re not sleeping with Lucius, are you?”

His words have my heart feeling like it’s stopped frozen in time, while all breath seems to have escaped my body at once.

“What? …What? ...I mean…What? No!” I barely manage to gasp down the phone at the same time as I hear him slip into another chuckle.

“I’m messing!” he laughs. “Even I’m not stupid enough to think you’d do that.”

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