Eden

10

“Damn, Mallory. Have some frustration you need to work off?”

I roll my eyes at Gabe’s teasing tone and don’t respond as I send a right hook flying toward his face. He blocks it, and I find myself dodging a jab as we dance around the ring together

This feels so good. I haven’t had an outlet for my pent-up anxiety and anger since I found Jon Eric floating in the pool. I haven’t been able to go back since, so I haven’t been swimming and exercising that away. Boxing is the perfect release. Not only am I burning energy, but I’m able to wail on my opponent and get some of my building aggression out of my system.

Gabe’s done me the extra solid of forbidding Saint and Liam from following us into the gym. He’s locked the doors to our training room and told them both to piss off, which I’m sure they’ll give him shit for later, but he doesn’t seem to care.

We go at it a few more rounds before we’re both at our limit. Exhausted and panting, I realize it’s been a long time since I’ve felt this good. We catch our breath and grab water bottles from the edge of the ring.

“You should be careful, you know,” he tells me between sips.

I cock a brow at him. “About what?”

“Fucking with Saint.” He laughs and shakes his head. “Don’t get me wrong, I love watching him lose his shit, but you have to know he’s only got so much patience for people. You push him too hard and he’s eventually going to stop trying.”

This has been Saint trying? I want to scoff, but I can see that Gabe’s serious.

“I’m not trying to fuck with him. I’m just trying to keep up when he fucks with me.”

He considers that a moment, then nods. “Fair enough.”

Once we’ve rested some more, we decide to call it a night. I thank him for everything he’s done, and he shrugs it off saying that it’s no big deal. He walks me out of the building, and then we part ways to head to our dorms.

I feel relaxed and as close to happy as I tend to get nowadays. My mind is actually clear, and I’m able to keep my mind off my discussion this morning with Loni, and Nora and our upcoming meeting. Just as I’m reaching my building, my phone buzzes. I grab it and look to find that Kristyn has finally emailed me back about visiting Ravenwood. She says I can stop by on Friday and she’ll give me access to the library.

Throwing my head back, I let out a groan of relief. Finally, something’s going right for me. Feeling almost elated, I make my way inside and up to my room. I open the door without thought, not even comprehending that it’s unlocked, and then I freeze when I find Hot Draco in all his blond, muscular glory standing by my bed, waiting for me.

He looks pissed.

“What the fuck happened in here?” he demands to know without preamble.

“What do you mean?” The room’s clean, and I got new bedding to replace the linens that Nora had Ghost destroy.

He points to my broken mirror. “Explain,” he orders through gritted teeth.

Shutting the door behind me, I lift my shoulders into a shrug. “Guess it’s seven more years of bad luck and shit for me, huh?”

I make my way toward my closet to gather clean clothes to change into after my shower, but Saint strolls toward me and grabs my arm to stop me. He spins me around to face him.

“Don’t lie to me. I’m so fucking sick of your lies and secrets. I own you, remember? You need to stop keeping shit from me.”

“You don’t own—”

He cuts off my protest with a harsh kiss that makes me whimper. His tongue invades my mouth as his hands grasp the back of my thighs and yank me off my feet. With quick strides, he walks to my desk and sets me on the surface.

I tear my lips from his when he starts yanking at my athletic shorts.

“Saint, wait, I’m sweaty…”

He ignores me, pulling my shorts and underwear down my legs and sinking to his knees before me. I try to push him away, but he shoves my hand away and forces my thighs apart. His face descends to my pussy, and I let out a strangled cry when his tongue drags along my folds. I go from pushing him away to pulling him closer, and the fact that I just finished working out doesn’t matter anymore. He licks and sucks at me until I’m squirming on the desk, then he stands and forces his lips against mine.

His kiss tastes like me and sweat, but I don’t care. I wrap my arms around his neck as he unzips his jeans and pulls his cock out. He lines himself up and thrusts into me in one stroke. As he rocks against me, rattling my desk, I claw at his back, desperate for more. He shoves up my shirt to cup my breasts and our tongues tangle wildly as he pushes me into near oblivion.

It’s not long before my orgasm is ripping through me and I scream, bowing my back and gazing up at the ceiling as he continues, chasing his own release. He tenses, and I know he’s close. Instead of coming inside, he pulls out and strokes himself until he erupts onto my thighs.

As if he’s marking me.

I slump back against the wall and he leans over me, bracing his hands on the desk on either side of my hips. We catch our breaths, not saying anything, but staring at each other intently.

Finally, he says in a low, fierce tone, “You belong to me.”

“Maybe you belong to me,” I counter in a soft voice.

He doesn’t respond for a long time, but then he laughs, as if I’ve just said something fu

“Silly little masochist, I don’t belong to anyone” he assures me. “Least of all you.”

But I don’t believe him. He’s putting on an aloof façade, but it’s bull. I decide not to call him on it, though.

I push against his stomach to get him to back up so I can hop down from the desk.

“Fine,” I say with a shrug. “Whatever. Get out so I can wash your jizz off my legs.”

I’m sure he’s going to leave after a statement like that, but he surprises me by taking my hand and leading me into the bathroom. He turns on the shower and lets the water get warm as he turns to me and removes my remaining clothes. Then, he stuns me further by undressing himself. Taking my hand again, he helps me into the shower, then follows after.

“What are you doing?” I murmur as he directs me to stand under the stream and then wets my hair.

He doesn’t answer as he grabs my shampoo bottle and turns me so my back is to him. He squirts shampoo onto his hand, then massages his fingers through my hair, paying close attention to my scalp. My eyes slide shut and I let out a little moan because it feels so good. He moves me to rinse out my hair, then repeats the process with my conditioner. I’ve never had someone wash me like this before. I feel pampered, and when he takes my loofa and pours a glob of body wash into it, I don’t fight him as he begins to wash me from top to bottom.

As he goes, he runs a hand between my legs, teasing me with his fingers, before moving to soap up and cup my breasts. He’s not really trying to get me worked up, just playing with me, but I’m squirming in his hands anyway. When he rinses the body wash off me, he turns me back around to face him and hands me the loofa.

“Your turn,” he says, without further explanation.

I stare at him a moment, a little caught off guard, but then I grab the body wash and squirt more into the loofa. He stands very still as I begin to run it along his big body. I try to keep things clinical and to the point at first, but I can’t stop myself from lingering on his abs—or exploring his broad back with gentle touches. When I reach his cock, I don’t bother with the loofa and just take him in my soapy hand. I begin to stroke him and he hardens in my grasp.