Chapter 57

WREN

CHRISTMAS MORNING.

Wren Jacobi, a tender six-year-old boy, sat down next to his twin sister and waited eagerly to open his presents. At seven, eight, nine, and ten, he did the same, heart beating out of his chest, unable to contain the excitement at what delights he might find inside the stacks of colorfully wrapped and ribboned gifts that awaited him.

All of those Christmases combined don’t even come close to the excitement I feel now, as I pull Elodie down the mattress toward me. I’m no longer a naïve little boy, filled with juvenile anticipation over a box of Legos. No, now I’m far more interested in taking things apart than putting them together, and Elodie promises to be the most precious gift of all.

The part of me that took that photo of her from Harcourt’s desk—the very same part of me that relished the prospect of breaking her heart and making her cry—rears its ugly head, making all sorts of vile commands. My dick strains harder, and my blood roars through my veins, an unstoppable, deadly tidal wave…but I close a fist around that dark shadow, banishing it from my mind. Wren from three weeks ago would have already figured out what cruel, cold thing he was going to say to Elodie once he’d had his fill of her tonight, but now I’m left scrambling, turned around and unsure what the fuck I’m going to do once this is over.

I won’t shatter her, though. I’ll make her fall to pieces in my arms, and I’ll watch her splinter apart as she comes. After that, who knows what the fuck comes next. Anyone’s guess is as good as mine.

Her eyelashes flutter like butterfly’s wings as she looks up at me, her winter-blue eyes full of desire and panic. Her tongue darts out wetting her bottom lip, and I beat back a snarl at the sight of it. “Answer me, E. What do you want? How far do you want this to go?”

Mrs. Hopkins, our hapless statistics teacher, drew the short straw the day the students of Wolf Hall had to be given the whole consent talk. She’d be proud as hell of me right now. ‘Boys, I know you’re all far too young to be thinking about sex yet (hah de fucking hah) but you must always make sure you that your lady friend consents to your advances. If you don’t hear a clear yes from her, then always better to assume that, uh, it’s a no.’ Her pride would be misplaced, though. I’m not asking for Elodie’s consent. She already gave it, the moment she announced she was coming up to my fucking room in front of Pax and Dash. No, I want to know just how filthy my precious Little E is gonna let me be.

She wriggles, her chest rising and falling rapidly, her toes curling against the flat of my stomach. God, I want to bite her. I want to fucking consume her. I want to take all of that beautiful blonde hair and wrap it around my fist as I drive her mouth down as deep as she can go onto my cock. Her eyes shutter, like she has a window into my depraved, debauched mind, and what she sees through it is making her unravel. “You know what I want,” she says.

Ahhh, poor Little E needs to loosen up that tongue of hers. I have a few tricks up my sleeve that should grease those gears. One step at a time, though. Still holding both her ankles, I spread her legs apart, holding her feet on either side of my thighs. The taut cord inside me—what passes for my patience—pulls even tighter, threatening to snap, when I see the damp patch of silk in between her legs. Her pussy’s already wet enough to have soaked through her panties. “Oh, E.”

She squirms, two twin patches of color burning high on her cheek bones, trying to close her legs at the knee, but I jerk roughly on her ankles, slowly shaking my head. “Don’t. You didn’t fucking come here to hide yourself from me. You know you didn’t. Don’t you want me to taste your cunt?” I’m straight forward. To the point. Her cheeks flame even redder, and that twisted, wicked part of me crows.

“Yes,” she says quietly. “I do.”

“Good. You want me to fuck you with my fingers?” “Yes.”

“You want me to fuck you with this?” I ask, grabbing hold of my cock.

She shudders, goosebumps forming underneath my palms, covering her legs and the flat, toned stomach she’s been hiding under those massive, stupid fucking t-shirts she wears. I watch, fascinated beyond belief, as she nods her head. “Yes.”

“You want me to come inside you? You want to feel my dick getting harder as I get closer and closer?”

“Yes.” Now that she’s admitted that she wants my cock, the word comes out a little easier; poor girl probably thinks that’s the hardest thing I’m gonna make her admit to. I haven’t even gotten started.

“Take your bra off,” I command. “Panties, too. Put them on the nightstand.”

She hesitates for a second, pulling in a deep breath through her nose.

“Now, Elodie.”

Fire and brimstone simmer in her eyes, a little of that defiant spirit finally breaking through her nerves. There’s a message for me on her face, plain as day, as she sits up, reaching behind her back to unfasten her bra: Careful, Jacobi. Talk to me like that again and I’ll bite your fucking dick off.

I’d probably let her, too, if it meant she’d slipped it inside that pretty mouth first.

She never takes her eyes off me as she shrugs her bra straps from her shoulders and the material drops, leaving her chest bare. She’s fucking perfect, just like I knew she would be. Not big, and not small, her tits are the perfect fucking size. Her skin is like fresh poured cream, completely flawless. Her nipples are the softest shade of pink, so pale and pretty that I can’t stop myself from groaning. My mouth’s already watering at the prospect of sucking on those nipples. My hands are aching, begging to be full of her. Elodie smiles as she shimmies her panties over her hips, pushing them down her thighs.

The cord inside me snaps.

I grab the black, sheer material, ripping it from her body with one hand, baring my teeth in an approximation of a smile as I offer them back to her. “On the nightstand,” I repeat. “Then on your back for me, Little E. I want to get a proper look at you.”

She places her bra and her panties on the small table beside the bed, just as I’ve told her to, and then she carries out the second part of my command, lying down on the bed. Her hands rest by her sides, but her fingers spasm and twitch, letting me know that she’s desperate to cover herself with them.

Mercilessly slow, I climb up onto the bed and crawl up the mattress, shoving her legs open again so that I’m kneeling between them. She closes her eyes for a second, knowing what’s coming.

“Open,” I order. “All the way. I want to see all of you. Your clit. Your pussy. Your asshole. Wider, Elodie.” I growl when she only inches her legs apart a fraction. “Wider.”

Her legs tremble as she gives me what I want. I bite the inside of my cheek, staring down at her, losing my fucking mind as I scan every minute detail of her most secret, most sacred parts. Her clit’s swollen and glistening, wet like a pearl. Her flesh is slick, flushed darker around her opening, but a pale, pale pink like her nipples everywhere else. I’ve never really cared about anal before, but my need to inspect Elodie’s asshole is tantamount to fucking criminal. She’s so good, so pure, that witnessing the most taboo part of her angelic body makes my dick so hard that it feels like I’ll come if she so much as fucking breathes in my direction.

I don’t fuck around.

I don’t hold back.

I reach out and I touch her like I already own her, like she’s always been mine. Her wet heat coats my fingertips, covering them in her desire, and I cannot fucking look away. She goes stiff, so rigid that fingers drive into the sheets, forming fists around the material. When I look up at her, her eyes are clenched shut.

“Breathe,” I tell her. “Unless you’re into auto-erotic asphyxiation. In which case, carry on.”