Chapter Three
I had trouble falling asleep.
I was haunted by the deep, haughty voice of Jace Kingston, which was brimming with a promise I knew he would honour. "My turn to dare you is coming…"
He meant it, too. I continued playing the scenario over and over that night. The party. His fingers. The way he made me gasp for air and gave me a rush of adrenaline. The frightening part was that he had taken over my body as if it were his own.
I desired more.
**
I made an effort to keep my head down on campus the following morning. Act like I was normal. Act as though I hadn't given Jace a blowjob in front of folks at the frat party. Act as though I hadn't cum on his fingers like a brazen girl in need of attention.
However, the devil found me.
"Freshman."
His speech slipped like sin-wrapped satin over my ears.
He was there when I turned. Jace Kingston. With that arrogant smile, he leaned against the railing as if he owned the entire school. As if I were his property.
He stated, "I think it's my turn now."
I took a deep breath. "Now?"
"Friday. Midnight. "My place," he declared. "Don't wear panties."
He leaned in and whispered directly into my ear as I opened my mouth to object.
"Unless you want to be dared right here, in front of the football pitch."
My breath caught.
This guy wasn't playing fair. And I didn't want him to, for heaven's sake.
**
Friday at 11:59 p.m.
Wearing the smallest dress I owned without any underwear. I stood outside his door.
It opened as soon as I knocked. After dragging me inside, he banged the door and locked it.
"You're late," he pointed out.
"It's midnight."
"Exactly. A single second late.
His gaze gently moved down my body as he smiled.
"No panties?"
I gave a headshake.
He let out a moan. "Good girl."
With the anxious need of a man who is starving, his mouth slammed down on mine and pinned me against the door. He raised the dress up by placing his hands on my thighs.
He whispered, "You know what my dare is?" in between lips.
Dazed, I shook my head.
His mouth touched my jaw and then moved to my neck. "I dare you to let me fuck you in every room of this my apartment tonight."
My heart raced. "What?"
"You heard me." His voice darkened as he took a step back. "The kitchen. The sofa. My bed. Even the shower. You also can't refuse. If you want to win, don't.
"Jace, this isn't a game anymore." He said, "Oh, baby," and took off his shirt. "It is. And you're losing right now."
Taking hold of my hand, he pulled me into the kitchen. Like it was designed for this very moment, he leaned me over the counter.
I flipped my dress up. He let his belt fall.
He then smashed me from behind.
"Fuck!" Arching into him, I sobbed. My chest ached from the sensation of him—raw, thick, and flawless.
Grabbing my hips, he thrust forcefully. "One room down," he growled. "There are three more left." He pulled out and carried me over his shoulder as if I were weightless before I could even regain my breath.
After carrying me to the living room, he expanded my legs wide and placed me on the couch.
"Hands behind your head," he said in command.
With a racing heart and trembling thighs, I obeyed.
He devoured me while kneeling between my legs. His tongue was very sinful. I started to squirm and gasp as the licks and soft sucking got harder and faster.
"You taste like heaven," he snarled as he clutched my legs. And until you weep, I'm going to make you cum.
Yes, I did. Quite loudly.
He got up, cleaned his mouth, and carried me once more when I arrived with his name on my lips like a fervent prayer.
To the bathroom.
His body was like lava, but the shower felt chilly against my back.
Using one hand, he trapped my wrists over my head while the other went between my thighs once more.
"You're dripping," he said in a whisper. Are you unable to get enough of me?
"I hate you," I exclaimed.
He gave me a deep kiss while laughing.
He slipped himself back inside me and whispered, "You'll beg me for this next time."
As he thrust, this time deep and slowly, the water poured down on us. More erotic. More sentimental. I saw something dangerous as I gazed into his eyes. Something beyond mere passion. ownership.
I assumed he was finished when we finally passed out in his bed, the fourth and last room.
However, he wasn't.
He spread me out like food.
Tied his tie around my wrists.
He took his time.
Over and over.
Until I was unable to think. unable to talk. Breathing without tasting him was impossible.
After it was done, he lay next to me and stroked my hair.
"I win," he said.
I didn't even disagree. Because the instant I accepted the dare, I lost.