Chapter 84 Kristen
The professor droned on about magical theory, something about elemental signatures and how they manifested in different bloodlines. I stared at the front of the room but saw nothing. Heard nothing except the pounding of my own heartbeat.
My thighs pressed together under the desk. I was still aching. From last night when he'd left me trembling and desperate against the wall. From this morning when his foot had slid between my legs at the breakfast table. From every moment since he'd walked into my room and changed the rules of our game.
Stop thinking about it.
But I couldn't. My body wouldn't let me forget. Every shift in my seat reminded me of the emptiness, the need that he'd built up and then denied. The way his fingers had felt inside me. The things he'd said in that dark, commanding voice.
The professor turned to write something on the board, and I blinked.
It wasn't the professor anymore.
Leo.
Standing at the front of the class in his leather jacket and dark jeans, that dangerous smile on his face. My breath caught in my throat as he turned to face the room.
"Good girls," he said, his voice carrying through the silent classroom, "do bad things."
My heart pounded so hard I could feel it in my throat.
"And when they do..." He started walking down the aisle between the desks, his eyes locked on mine. "They get punished."
He stopped at my desk and looked down at me. His eyes were dark with promise, with the memory of everything he'd done to me.
"Do you plan to do a very bad thing, Kristen?"
I couldn't speak. Couldn't move.
"Do you plan to touch yourself after I told you not to?"
The classroom went silent. I looked around and realized every single student had turned in their seats. They were all staring at me with empty, stoic eyes. Watching. Waiting.
Leo leaned down, his mouth so close to my ear I could feel his breath. "Answer me."
I blinked.
The professor was at the board. Writing. Talking about resonance patterns and energy matrices. Nothing had changed.
It wasn't real.
My hands were shaking. I looked around quickly, but no one was staring. No one had noticed anything. The lecture continued like nothing had happened.
But my skin was on fire. My pulse raced. I could still feel the phantom touch of his breath on my neck.
I stood abruptly, my chair scraping loudly across the floor.
The professor paused mid-sentence. "Miss Lockwood?"
"I... bathroom... sorry..." I grabbed my bag and hurried toward the door, not looking back, not caring what anyone thought.
The hallway was blessedly empty. I practically ran to the bathroom and shoved the door open, my breathing ragged.
Breathe. Just breathe.
I gripped the edge of the sink and looked up at my reflection. Flushed cheeks. Dilated pupils. Lips parted like I'd been running or kissing or both.
God, I'm a mess.
"Look at yourself."
I froze.
His voice. Right behind me.
I looked in the mirror and he was there. Standing directly behind me, so close I could feel the heat radiating off his body.
Not real. He's not real.
But his hands landed on my hips anyway, solid and warm through my uniform.
"Look at yourself in the mirror." His mouth was at my ear, his body pressed against my back. "Look how desperate you are."
One hand slid up slowly, over my stomach, between my breasts, until it rested at my throat. Not squeezing. Just holding.
"Unable to think about anything except me."
I tried to look away from my reflection, but his other hand gripped my jaw and held my face forward. Forced me to watch.
"Except my hand in your pussy."
My breath came in short gasps. My reflection stared back at me with wild, needy eyes that I barely recognized.
"My cock in your mouth."
His hand slid down from my throat, over my uniform, between my legs. He pressed against me through the fabric and I whimpered.
"You're so turned on right now you can't think of anything else, can you?"
I watched myself in the mirror. Watched him touching me. Watched the way my body responded, arching into his touch.
"You can't even pay attention in class."
His fingers pressed harder, right where I needed them most.
Knock knock knock.
I gasped and spun around.
The bathroom was empty. No Leo. Just me, alone, gripping the sink like it was the only real thing left in the world.
"Kristen?" Anna's voice came from the other side of the door.
My heart was hammering so hard I thought it might break through my ribs.
"You okay in there? You ran out of class like something was wrong."
"I'm fine!" My voice cracked, sounding anything but fine.
The door opened slowly and Anna stepped in. She took one look at me and her eyebrows rose.
"Jesus. You look..."
"I'm fine," I repeated, but the words were hollow.
Anna crossed her arms and studied me with those sharp eyes that never missed anything. "You're not fine. You haven't been fine since last night."
Oh God.
"What I heard on the phone..." she started.
"It was nothing. I stubbed my toe. I told you."
Anna's eyes narrowed. "Kristen."
"Seriously. I'm fine." I forced myself to let go of the sink, to stand up straight and pretend my legs weren't shaking.
We stared at each other. Anna didn't believe me. I didn't care. I couldn't explain what was happening to me. Couldn't tell her that I was losing my mind over a man who was supposed to be protecting me, not driving me insane with need.
Finally, Anna sighed. "Okay. Fine. But we need to talk."
I nodded too quickly, desperate to change the subject.
"About what I told you last night. The contact."
Right. The contact. I'd completely forgotten about it. Everything in my head was just Leo. His hands. His voice. The way he'd looked at me when he'd left me aching and desperate.
Stop.
"Yeah. The contact. What about it?"
Anna glanced at the bathroom door and dropped her voice. "The contact is at Sentinel Park."
I blinked, trying to focus. "Sentinel Park? That's like twenty minutes away."
"I know."
"And you want to go when?"
Anna checked her phone. "Now. Before next class."
"Now?"
"We have a ninety minute break. Plenty of time to get there and back."
My mind was spinning, trying to process this. Sentinel Park. A contact who supposedly knew something about my past. About my father.
"Who is this person?"
Anna's smile was cryptic. "You'll see when we get there."
Not an answer. My stomach twisted. Something felt off about this whole situation, but I also needed it. Needed answers. Needed to know who I was, what I was. Needed something, anything, to focus on besides him.
Besides the ache between my legs that wouldn't go away. Besides the memory of his fingers inside me and his voice in my ear telling me I belonged to him now.
"Okay. Let's go."
Anna grabbed my hand, her grip warm and reassuring. "Come on. My car's in the lot."
We headed for the exit, pushing through the heavy doors and out into the sunlight. I tried to focus on what was ahead. On the mystery. On the answers that might be waiting at Sentinel Park.
But my body wouldn't cooperate. Every step reminded me. The ache between my legs. The phantom touch of his hands on my skin. The sound of his voice in the darkness.
You don't get to finish.
I swallowed hard and followed Anna across the parking lot to her car. Tried to push it all down. Push him down. Push away the memories and the fantasies and the desperate, clawing need.
Failed.
Because every thought circled back. To him. To last night. To this morning. To the way he'd looked at me across the breakfast table like he owned me. Like he knew exactly what I was thinking, exactly how badly I wanted him.
To the fact that I'd already lost this game.
And he knew it.
Anna unlocked her car and we climbed in. As she started the engine, I stared out the window and tried to convince myself that going to meet some mysterious contact was a good idea. That I wasn't just running away from my own thoughts. That I could actually focus on something other than Leo Moretti for five goddamn minutes.
But as we pulled out of the parking lot and headed toward Sentinel Park, all I could feel was the throb between my legs and the certainty that no matter how far I ran, he was already under my skin.
And there was no going back from that.