Red Thorns: Chapter 18
“Nao?”
“W-what?” I stare at my best friend who has been talking for the past half an hour, but apparently, I haven’t listened to anything.
Lucy bumps her shoulder against mine as we head to the lunch table. “What’s wrong with you?”
“Nothing. I just didn’t sleep much.”
“Watching serial killers again?”
No. Contemplating whether or not I need help.
Ever since Sebastian left me on the steps of my house two days ago with blood coating my thighs and his cum on my face, I’ve been seriously thinking I have some loose screw that needs taking care of.
So no, I haven’t slept. Instead, I’ve spent every moment obsessing over what happened, rethinking every touch and every brutal thrust.
Every hit and ever orgasm.
And…I got wet in the process. I might have touched myself to the memory, too.
That’s not normal.
That’s not how people react to being savagely fucked for the first time after being so paranoid about sex their entire life.
That’s not how one’s virginity is supposed to be taken.
But now that it happened, I don’t think I’d want it any other way.
Something changed that night.
Sebastian and I passed the point of no return and now, it’s just a huge clusterfuck.
It would’ve been different if he’d forced me. I would’ve reported him and started an uproar in our town. I would’ve gone against him and his political ties, even if it meant destroying myself in the process.
But that’s not the case.
He gave me a choice and a way out. One I could’ve taken before he fucked me on those stairs. One where I could’ve ended the chase before it even started.
But I didn’t.
I was too addicted to the thrill and like any addict, I burned for more.
For a redo.
For the next level.
I got what I asked for and more.
He didn’t hold back, didn’t take it easy, and I found myself slammed into a brutal alternate reality.
One I’ve been thinking about since it ended.
One I’ve dreamt about every time I’ve closed my eyes.
I thought he’d disappear and ignore me now that he got what he wanted, but he texted me yesterday.
Sebastian: You sure you don’t want my opinion on the sketch?
I stared at my phone for a solid five minutes, trying to figure out what the hell was he getting at. He couldn’t possibly be picking up where we left off in our conversation before he broke into my house and fucked me like I’m a whore.
His whore.
But I confirmed that’s exactly what he was doing when the second text came.
Sebastian: Heads-up. I’m your number one fan, so don’t forget about me if you become a manga artist.
My blood ran cold at how he was blatantly not addressing what happened.
How could he?
How was he able to move past it so easily?
I’m nowhere near that stage, considering how much I’ve been obsessing about it.
And Sebastian is the one I wanted to talk to the most. I couldn’t actually tell Mom or call Lucy and say, “Umm…hi. I got raped and I liked it.” Or sort of raped or whatever.
Either way, he’s the only person I could broach the subject with. And yet, he acted as if nothing happened. So I bit the bloodied bullet and replied with the same tone I used in that exchange.
Naomi: Who told you I want you as a fan?
Sebastian: Too bad you don’t get to choose who your fans are. One day, you’ll be having a signing and I’ll show up with a copy of your work and kiss you in front of all your other fans. They’ll probably cause a ruckus and I’ll tell them it’s the perks of being your number one.
Naomi: As if I’ll let you kiss me.
Sebastian: You won’t have a choice.
Naomi: I’ll ban you and ask security to escort you out.
Sebastian: That won’t stop me, baby. I’ll always find a way back in.
My heart still skips a beat whenever I think about his words.
The fact that I don’t have a choice. That he’ll always find a way back in. Was he playing a sick mind game with me? Either that or I’m really losing it.
Maybe none of what happened over the weekend is real. Maybe I watch too much violent stuff.
But I can still feel the soreness between my legs. I’ve had it for days, despite the baths and reading online tutorials about how to relieve it.
That first night, I had to literally crawl and then wash away the blood from between my legs, so that couldn’t have been a hallucination or a visceral dream.
I’ve felt the loss of what I considered my…secret.
Yes. I was a twenty-one-year-old virgin with trust issues, because I would rather have died than let a man be as physically close to me as that scum was eleven years ago.
But it was different with Sebastian.
Maybe because I had the choice, but not really. Maybe because he tore through me and took what he wanted while giving me what I needed.
Or maybe, just maybe, it’s because my busy brain didn’t get to function.
Because even if I said no, he didn’t stop. When I begged, he fucked me harder. When I cried, he took more.
The only way to end it was if I brought us back to reality.
But I didn’t.
Reality sucks.
“Hey, Nao.”
I force myself to focus on Lucy again as we pass chattering students scattering through in the cafeteria. “Yeah?”
She bites her lower lip, her teeth digging into the flesh. “I want to tell you something, but I don’t have proof.”
“Something about what?”
She casts a glance sideways, her freckles darkening with the reddening of her cheeks. “It’s about…”
“Lucy!”
I internally cringe at Brianna’s screeching voice. She snaps her fingers at my friend from her position across the room and beckons her over.
There’s nothing I want more than to go to her and break her wrist for calling my friend as if she’s her dog.
Lucy, however, smiles and grabs my arm, dragging me to the queen bee’s table. I’m about to twist myself free and leave as I usually do to avoid their brand of fat-shaming and veiled racist remarks, but something stops me.
Or rather, someone.
The cheerleaders are sitting with the football team. Meaning, Sebastian and his teammates.
Only his broad back is visible from this distance, but it’s enough to make my throat dry and my limbs jittery.
It’s enough to push me back in time until my presence is filled with him.
This shouldn’t be a surprise since the football team often sits with Reina and her favorite cheerleaders. Apparently, it’s a habit they’ve kept from their high school days since Reina’s fiancé used to play with them.
Of course, I often avoided this setting like the plague. Not only because of the cheerleaders’ venomous tongues, but also because I wanted to keep some distance between me and the football team.
It failed, anyway. And now, this situation is reaching heights I didn’t think were possible.
I let Lucy drag me to the table. My breathing quickens, deepening and hollowing as I catch a glimpse of Sebastian. He’s throwing French fries in his mouth as he listens to Owen talking animatedly about a bear.
He’s just eating fries. The act is so simple, yet I can’t stop staring at the scene. His Black Devils jacket stretches over his broad shoulders and developed chest and arms. His lean fingers close around the fries before he brings them to his mouth.
I gulp, recalling those same fingers inside me as that sensual mouth uttered the most degrading yet arousing things I’ve ever heard.
Since I first met Sebastian, I always found him beautiful with his dark blond hair, his sharp features, and eyes that resemble the most exotic sea to ever exist. But I didn’t realize how dangerous that beauty was until I couldn’t see him.
I didn’t realize how damning it could be until he took from me over and over again.
There are degrees in beauty that move beyond the physical and he now holds a new peak.
Because I don’t see his muscles as just eye candy. Now, it’s a weapon. His entire body is, from his mouth to his big hands to his huge cock.
Sebastian slowly lifts his head and I freeze as his eyes meet mine, trapping me in their depths and the pause in his movements. Then he smiles and winks like he’s been doing over the past couple of weeks.
“Come here, Lucy.” Brianna makes a room for my friend on her left and Lucy gives me an apologetic look as she inches over to her designated place.
Brianna takes a slurp of her Diet Coke. “As you can see, there’s no place for you, Naomi. Shoo.”
Snickers erupt from some at the table. Sebastian, however, isn’t one of them.
Thank God.
Reina remains calm, too, as she silently chews her salad before she addresses me. “It’s not like you want to join us, anyway, is it?”
“No, thanks. My bitch battery is full for the day.” Now that I’ve had my fill of him and made sure that this is reality, I can head to the garden and eat in peace.
I turn to leave when a strong hand wraps around my wrist and brings me to a screeching halt.
My lips part as I stare back at Sebastian and then his hold on me. He’s grabbing me like when we’re alone, savagely, without giving me any room…
My thoughts trail off when his assertive voice echoes in the air, “But I want you to stay, baby.”
Silence falls over the table.
It takes everything in me not to die of embarrassment then and there. No matter how much I think myself above the social game, even I can’t handle being doted on and called ‘baby’ in front of all his entitled friends.
Most of them hate me.
Lucy squirms in her seat, then her eyes meet mine and it’s like they’re begging me to do something. What, I don’t know.
“She doesn’t have a place to sit,” Brianna snaps, twisting her pink lips in obvious disapproval.
“Yes, she does.” He tugs on my wrist until I drop onto his lap. I gasp as I land straight against a warm bulge.
He’s…hard.
Oh, God. At what point during the conversation did he become this hard?
Sebastian’s arms loop around my waist so he’s spooning me from behind. I shift, entirely unfamiliar with the position, but he casually tightens his hold around me. If I’d planned to leave, there’s no way I’d be able to do that now.
Brianna is grumbling about something and Owen is changing the subject, but I can’t for the life of me decipher what they’re saying.
All I’m tuned to is his warmth at my back, the rise and fall of his chest, and his cock that’s throbbing against my ass cheeks.
Or maybe it’s my core that’s pulsing.
I think I’m going insane, because all I can imagine right now is him inside me.
All over me.
Taking me with no mercy.
Sebastian slides his plate in front of me. “Eat.”
“I’d rather we talk,” I whisper, staring back at him.
He brushes his nose against my cheek and I shudder. “Then talk.”
“Not here. Somewhere private.”
He pauses, and I’m not sure if he’s reading the desperation in my gaze or not, but then he murmurs in a dark tone, “The forest. At seven.”
I gulp as images from that weekend assault me all over again. It takes all of my will to ask, “Why at seven?”
He strokes my cheek with his nose, making me shiver. “Because it’s night and you become my whore at night.”