“Fascinating,” he murmurs.
I don’t want to know what he means.
His finger dips inside me, and he exhales harshly. I let out a low moan. It feels good, even when it really shouldn’t. He strokes me until I squirm, then keeps going. I fight it, my eyes narrowing. I clench my abs and ignore the intense feeling at my center.
I will not come because of him.
But it seems he won’t take no for an answer. He shifts, pressing against my clit with his thumb and pushing two fingers inside me. He finger-fucks me and watches my face. His tongue darts out, licking his lips, and he readjusts his grip on my mouth.
It’s a good thing, too, because his palm catches the obscene noise that bubbles out of me.
The orgasm crashes through me out of nowhere, and I’m suddenly grateful for the wall to keep me standing. He absorbs it all. My cunt clenches around his fingers. His hand slides out, and he brings his wet fingers up to his mouth.
He tastes me, and I freeze. I don’t know what to make of this—any of it. My skin is feverish, my core still tingling in the aftermath. And he licks his fingers, cleaning them and seeming to enjoy it. He finally releases my mouth and steps back.
“I take what I want, Violet. Remember that.”
8
GREYSON
Iskate out onto the ice, contemplating my next move with Violet.
My obsession with her is getting worse. I can’t stop thinking about her. Bloody. Bruised. Brutalized. I want to push my limits, yes, but I want to push her limits. See how far I can take things until we both crumble.
Part of me looks forward to that.
I had a phone call with my father this morning. He wanted to know how Crown Point is treating me.
The two months leading up to the start of my junior year were volatile. Both in how my father and I reacted to what happened, but also in Rose Hill. Our attorney, Josh Black, was by almost every day to advise us on the best legal action with Violet Reece. The civil suit haunted us through August, until she dropped the charges.
I wonder about that now as I pass the puck across the ice to Erik.
Why did she drop it?
We never saw each other in court. Never had to face each other in person. Except for the night of the crash, we didn’t interact. It was run through our lawyers. Everything from Mr. Black escorting me out of the police station a few hours after I was arrested, all the way up to the news of Violet’s personal injury suit being dropped.
Now, my father is the sort of man who will do anything to get his way. What lengths did he have to go to in order to manipulate Violet?
And a better question: how can I exploit that?
Where is the weak point?
Her leg. Her dance career.
Finances, family, her future.
Take your pick. She seemed well-rounded. Friendly. Happy.
I want to press on her bruises. I want her to squirm under me until she can’t breathe. Because taking her breath away has been the most exciting thing to happen to either of us all year—I can feel it. I can sense it. She let her fear in for a second, and then it was gone. The tears in her eyes were a show.
She’s just as angry as me, but she won’t let it out.
Come play with me, Violet.
She doesn’t want to. She wants to remain safe. She wants everything to go back to how it was. The dance team, school, friends. It’s not possible for her, and I doubt it’s possible for me either.
How many ways can a person break before they can be reshaped into something new?