Next to him is a guy so broad that I wonder how he even fits through the door.I bet he could pin me down real good. My nerve endings tingle with the image of his huge hands doing just that to me. His shoulder length blond hair has a slight wave to it and is mussed and loose down round his face, highlighting a closely cropped blond bearded jaw. His eyes are a piercing blue and hold a predatory look that reminds me of being in a wolf's gaze, and I shift with excited unease.
He’s leaning his arse on the back of one of the sofas, staring at me, his predator's gaze turning calculating, and his massive arms crossed over his equally huge chest. He has some sort of black tribal tattoo sleeve down one arm and spilling across one pec, my eyes narrow as I try to focus and make sense of the shapes. I can see from his long black shorts that the opposite leg also has a similar design wrapped round it.
Overall, he gives the impression of a Viking warrior, ready to set sail and pillage new lands, shed blood and take what he wants. There's an almost visible aura of violence that surrounds him, colouring the air in shades of black. I shiver, not just from fear, but with a longing that begins to stir in my chest.
I briefly wonder if it’s a longing for his body in a sexual way, or the protective vibe that rolls off him in waves that I desperately want extended to me. Either way, it’s enough to make me take a small step towards him before I can catch myself and stop the movement.
To his right and standing a little ahead of the others is what can only be described as Lucifer himself. You know, like the one from that TV show, all dark virulent looks and black suits with a wit sharp enough to cut.I wonder if his words hurt, too?
His hair is so black, it's as if a moonless night has descended, kissing his head. It's neat and slicked back from his face, despite the late hour, and I get the impression it would never be otherwise. Perfectly arched black brows lend a cruel look to his devastatingly beautiful face, his cutting steel grey eyes are wholly bared and slicing into me like a honed blade, leaving me wounded. Yet my eyes feast on him all the same whilst a slight tremble comes over me.
He’s in red and navy long tartan PJ bottoms with a navy tank top that showcases his beautiful muscular arms, which are covered in simply stunning black ink. My gaze follows it as the tattoos swirl and eddie down his arms like patterned sleeves, right over the backs of his hands. The pictures spread up his neck right to his jawline in a repeated geometric pattern, and my heart pitter-patters at the sight, my breath leaving my lips in a rush.
It’s so fucking hot it’s unreal. I mean, he’s nowhere near He-Man to his left in terms of bulk, but he definitely works out and could certainly hold you down in all the right ways.Ahem! Head out of the gutter, Lilly!
Finally, on the end is a guy who’s smaller than the others, and although he has more of a gymnast's body, he is still drool worthy as fuck. He's the epitome of a sexy boy next door geek, yet there's also a darkness about him, like how I imagine the poet Byron would look. Beautiful but not entirely wholesome and with the glint of a tortured soul peeking through his eyes.It's always the quiet ones you have to watch out for, right?
His dark, chestnut brown hair is tousled, sticking up in all directions like he rakes his hands through it all the time, his thoughts consuming him. My fingers ache and tingle with the need to run them through it and mess it up even more.
He's got beautiful amber eyes, like liquid honey full of sweetness, and they're outlined by thick black frame glasses that heighten his hot nerd look. He, too, is wearing PJ bottoms, but his are plain shiny black which looks a lot like silk.I know, right? Silk!
He combines these with a black t-shirt that does nothing to hide his ripped torso, muscular arms, or the six pack that I want to cover in chocolate sauce and lick.What do they feed these guys for them all to be so fucking gorgeous?
“So, you’re the new student,” a low voice drawls, disdain and dismissal clear in his tone.
My eyes snap back to Lucifer, and I catch him giving me a once over...finding me lacking if the tilt of his head and his hard jawline are any indications.What the ever loving fuck?
He raises an ebony eyebrow haughtily, not dissimilar to the way Crow looked at me earlier, his face blank. My nostrils flare, and my eyes narrowing in response, heat flushing through my body for a completely different reason than it did moments ago.
“Yes,” I say quietly. Then, I clear my throat and raise my chin, deciding to not let him get to me.Fucking twatwaffle. I cross my arms over my chest and say in my haughtiest tone “Lilly Darling, and you are?”
I raise one of my own brows, face blank like his. If the narrowing of his gaze is anything to go by, I am at least marginally successful in pissing him off.Serves you right, smeghead!
He stares at me for a second longer than is comfortable, clearly trying to make me squirm. He obviously doesn't realise who he's up against.
“Asher. Asher Vanderbilt,” he drawls, carving into me with his gaze once again until it feels like he can see right into my tarnished soul. Like he's picking it apart and drinking all the light from inside me.
“Kai Matthews,” the guy to his right murmurs, purposely interrupting our glare off, and making my gaze turn to his honey eyes, which are shifting and trying desperately not to stare at me in my towel. He fails and then blushes.Cute.
“Jax Griffiths,” comes a deep rumble of thunder, and my head whips to look at He-Man. My god, that man could make a fortune in the phone sex industry. Or reading audiobooks.
I shiver before I can help myself, and am rewarded with an almost imperceptible smirk.Oh, hell's bells. There’s a dimple.
“And I’m,” the fallen angel steps forward, arms wide like a showman, a gleam in his eye and a playful smile on his lips, “your next orgasm,” and then he fucking bows.
It’s so ridiculous that a delighted laugh escapes me, my hand coming up to cover my mouth, and causing said angel to raise his head and give me a brilliant smile.
“Cut it out, Loki!” Asher snaps, turning his annoyed slate gaze onto his friend.
“Loki? As in the Norse trickster god?” I question the beautiful redhead, ignoring Grumpy McGrumpface.
“Yeah,” his smile dims as he rubs the back of his neck. “My parents are mythology nuts.”
“I like it.” I smile. “It suits you,” I add, a little of that heat from earlier in the bathroom returning to enter my voice. He grins back.
“So...” I begin, turning to look back at Lucifer–I mean Asher. “Why am I in a dorm with all guys?”
Again, his steel eyes cut me to the quick, and he waits before responding. This guy...he definitely is the king of all Hell, intimidating peons with only his glare.