Things I Wanted To Say (Lancaster Prep Book 1)

MY NAME WHISPERED in the darkness rouses me. I thought I was dreaming at first. The voice was deep. Familiar. Reminded me of Whit’s.

I hear my name again and I squirm beneath the covers, struggling to remain asleep. The dream will be good, if Whit’s involved. I don’t want to miss a thing.

Firm fingers grip my shoulder. “Savage.”

My eyes pop open to find a dark figure looming over me. I part my lips, the scream crawling up my throat and a gloved hand settles over the lower part of my face, silencing me. My heart races, my scream muffled behind the glove and I struggle beneath his hold.

He thrusts his face in mine. Sharp cheekbones. Angled jaw. Plush mouth and ice cold eyes.

Whit Lancaster. In the flesh.

“Be quiet,” he whispers, his tone a threat. Deadly.

I thrash about, marveling at how strong his hand is, pinning my head to the bed. The scent of rich leather fills my head and I’m tempted to bite his gloved fingers. He reaches for me, using his other arm to hold me down, his body draped over mine to keep me from moving. “What the fuck, Savage?”

My heart races so hard it feels like it’s going to burst from my chest. He has to feel it. Has to know how scared I am.

“It’s just me,” he whispers. “Calm down.”

His tone is softer than usual and I immediately do as he asks, my body growing still, as do my thoughts. I take a shaky breath, which is a struggle beneath his leather-covered hand, and as if he can sense my sudden compliance, he removes his hand from my mouth.

I exhale loudly, watching as he rises to his feet and begins to pace the room. He’s dressed all in black. Black hoodie and joggers. Black Nikes on his feet and a black beanie covering his hair.

“Why are you dressed like that?” I ask, my voice raspy from sleep.

“I didn’t want anyone to see me,” he says, his back to me as he goes to the window and pushes the curtains aside to stare outside.

“Have your sister hack the security system,” I tell him.

He glances over his shoulder. “She’s not here. I literally snuck inside your dorm hall, keeping to the shadows.”

“Why?” I ask incredulously. “It’s Saturday. I thought you were gone for the weekend.”

“I came back early.” He rests his gloved hands on the edges of the window, one foot cocked forward, his gaze on the view while he speaks to me. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

I sit up in bed, his admission making me blurt out the only word I can think of.

“Why?”

He pushes away from the window and returns to my bed, his hands cupping my face, forcing me to look at him. “It’s like my thoughts are consumed with nothing else but you. I jerked off last night thinking of you. I jerked off again this morning thinking about you. We haven’t even fucked yet, and I’m fucking obsessed.”

Whit releases my face, springing away from me as if I might be diseased, on his feet and pacing the floor again.

“You’re dressed as if you’re going to rob the place,” I say, my voice shaky. “You’re risking a lot, sneaking into my room.”

“I’m not risking shit, considering my family owns this school and I wouldn’t get in trouble. They could find me in your bed with you impaled on my cock and they wouldn’t do a damn thing about it.” He thrusts a finger at me. “What I am risking is my entire fucking future right now. Not that you give a damn.”

I frown, not sure what he’s referring to. “What do I have to do with your future?”

“You fuck with my head, when I shouldn’t be thinking about you whatsoever, Savage. You’re nothing to me.”

The words are cruel, but there isn’t any real feeling behind him, so I take no offense to what he just said.

“Then why are you here?” I ask softly.

Whit thrusts his hands into his hair, pulling it away from his forehead while he studies me. “I don’t know.” He sounds positively tormented.

His torment is my power. I’m the one who does this to him. Not quite sure what he means by the future comment, but it doesn’t matter right now. What does matter is that he’s back. He returned to campus because of me. For me.

I shove the covers back and rise onto my knees, reaching for the hem of the oversized T-shirt I wore to bed. With one fluid movement, I remove the shirt, tossing it aside. I’m only in a pair of panties and nothing else, and his gaze drops to my chest, his eyes flaring with heat. I get on all fours and crawl across the bed, until I’m on the very end, and he stops directly in front of me, his black leather gloved hand slipping beneath my chin and tipping my head back so I have no choice but to rise up on my knees.

“Are you an offering?” he asks, his voice deceptively soft, his eyes glittering.

The cool air whisks across my body, making me tremble. Making my nipples harden to almost painful points. “If I’m what you want, then yes.”

“You’re always what I want.”

I blink up at him, shocked by his admission, the obvious yearning in his eyes as they skim over my face. He drifts his hand along the length of my neck, across my collarbone. The smooth black leather is soft and cool against my heated skin and I close my eyes, a gasp leaving me when he drifts his knuckles along my breast. “You make me want things I can’t have.”

He pinches my nipple with his thumb and index finger, pulling on it. Making me wince. He does the same to my other nipple, twisting it until I cry out before he releases it, ducking his head and tonguing the throbbing bit of flesh for not nearly as long as I want him to.

Whit steps away from the bed, his gaze still on my glistening nipple. “Why the fuck do I always want to hurt you?”

He sounds tortured. And if he’s trying to threaten me, it’s not working.

I cup my breasts, fondling myself. “You can’t.”

“Why not?” He frowns.

“Because I like the way you touch me too much.” I brush my thumb across my wet nipple, my pussy flooding from the warmth of his gaze as he watches my every move. “I even enjoy the pain.”

His eyes darken with heat. “You’re as fucked up as I am.”

I nod. “We’re one and the same.”

He swallows hard, his Adam’s apple moving before he utters, “Slip your hand in your panties.”

I do as he says, diving my fingers into the front of my pale pink panties. They’re nothing special. But he’s looking at me as if I’m wearing expensive lingerie just for him. It’s that look that has me soaked, and my fingers sink into my folds, slicking through my juices. I’m so wet, I’m sure he can hear it.

“Give me your hand,” he demands and I pull my hand from my underwear, my coated fingers shiny. He inhales sharply, his chest rising before he reaches for my wrist and brings my hand to his mouth.

He sticks his tongue out and drags it slowly along each of my fingers. My breath comes in little pants, my gaze on his tongue, aroused by the way he laps at my fingers as if he’s savoring my taste.

“Do it again,” he murmurs against my palm. My gaze jerks to his and he gently kisses my hand. “Let me hear just how wet I make you.”

Once again my fingers are between my thighs, my hand busy as it stretches the pink cotton tightly. My clit throbs as I rub it, and I increase my speed, the wet, sloppy sounds filling the room. He leans in and circles his gloved fingers around my wrist, stopping me, his face in mine, his breath fanning across my lips.

“I’m going to fuck you tonight,” he whispers.

I nod, my eyes wide and unblinking.

“I want to make you come first,” he continues, his grip tightening around my wrist. “Do you want that?”

“Yes,” I breathe out with no hesitation.

“Don’t move,” he says.

I remain still as he removes his hand from my wrist, watching as he climbs onto the bed behind me. He lies down and pushes his head between my legs, his face right at my pussy. “Remove your hand,” he demands and I yank it out of my underwear, breathless with anticipation.

He remains fully clothed, his gloved hands pressing on the inside of my thighs, spreading me wider. With careful fingers he nudges my panties aside, exposing me and I watch as he studies my pussy, his lips parting, tongue sneaking out to touch the corner of his mouth. “So fucking wet.”

My thighs tremble—my entire body shakes as I wait for him to make a move. He lifts his head, his mouth landing dead center on my pussy and he nuzzles me. Teasing, light strokes that send my head spinning and my heart rate kicking into overdrive.

“Sit on my face,” he whispers, but I don’t. What if I suffocate him? What if I—

His hands grip my ass and he presses me down, so I have no choice but to do what he demands. He sticks his tongue out, licking my folds, my clit. Circling it, searching every part of me. His fingers slide closer to my crack, stroking me, teasing me as I basically grind on top of his face. Our gazes lock and I’m fascinated by the heat in his eyes, the way he watches me so intently as he devours me.

He draws his index finger up and down my ass crack, his touch as light as a feather. A shudder moves through me, a warning sign that my orgasm is already close, and I spread my legs wider, throwing my head back as I shamelessly rock against his mouth. He grips my ass, moving me against him, his tongue increasing in speed and I strain toward his magical mouth, desperate for more.

The orgasm hits, his name falling from my lips as I slide back and forth on his face, his tongue fluttering against my clit, his finger pressing against my asshole. My pussy clenches, my vision turning hazy as I toss my head back, a moan sounding from deep within me. He doesn’t let up. His mouth still works me, his gloved finger stroking my ass, his other arm coming around my waist and holding me to him as he fiercely eats me.

Another orgasm follows the first one, almost immediately, surprising me. It’s not as strong, but it still sends shudders rippling through me, leaving me a gasping, helpless mess. My thigh muscles strain as I try to lift away from him, and he loosens his hold on me so I can collapse beside him. I close my eyes, trying to calm my thoughts, my heart.

God, that was intense. The way he looked at me. Touched me. No one’s touched me back there before, and I never knew it could feel so…good.

I hear him roll off the bed. Peel off the gloves, the leather making a slapping sound as he tosses them on my desk. Clothes rustle as they’re removed and I remain still with my eyes shut, anticipation curling through me as I wait for him to return.

The mattress dips from his weight and I feel his fingers brush my hips as he tugs my stretched-out panties down my legs, removing them completely. He rolls me onto my back and climbs on top of me, his heavy weight almost a comfort, pressing me down onto the bed. He pushes my hair away from my forehead, his touch strangely gentle and I slowly open my eyes to find him watching me, all the usual iciness in his gaze melted away, replaced by unmistakable heat.

“You alive?” he asks sardonically.

I stretch beneath him, his firm cock resting against my belly. “I don’t think so.”

“You’re a filthy fucking girl, how eagerly you rode my face.” He leans down, his lips on mine, his tongue dipping inside my mouth. My scent is all over him, and I can taste myself. Salty sweet.

“It felt good,” I murmur against his lips as I reach around him, my hands sliding down his back.

He lifts up, his hands braced on the mattress on either side of my face, hovering above me. “I shouldn’t have come here tonight.”

I ignore his words, choosing instead to close my eyes and arch my body into his.

Whit presses my shoulder down onto the mattress, holding me with force. “What we have is meaningless.”

There he goes again, trying to convince himself.

“I’m only using you because I have your journal,” he reminds me, his mouth suddenly at my ear. “I’m finding out all of your dirty little secrets, Savage. You’ve been a grade A whore since you started high school.”

Anger suddenly floods me. Why does he have to open his mouth and say such shitty things? He’s ruining everything. I try to buck him off my body, but he’s too heavy. Too strong. “Get off me.”

“Little freshman Summer Savage enjoyed sneaking around campus, getting fucked by her eighteen-year-old boyfriend,” he croons in my ear, his fingers drifting down my arm gently, finding my wrist and clamping it like a vise. “Ol’ Daniel was a stupid fuck, was he not?”

All of my earlier tender feelings toward Whit evaporate with every cruel word he says. “Shut up.”

“Truth hurts? Your entries are just getting better and better.” He lifts my arm above my head, holding it there as he rakes his gaze over me. “Though I feel like there are certain things left—unsaid in that journal.”

Fear wraps its tendrils around my insides, cinching tighter and tighter. After my relationship with Daniel ended is when Yates finally sunk his claws into me completely. And once Whit reads those entries?

I assume he’ll want nothing to do with me.

“You even keep secrets from yourself, don’t you?” He presses his torso against mine, and I can feel his cock nudging at my pussy. He grabs my other wrist and pulls it up over my head, so he’s clutching them both and I feel trapped. Powerless.

Aroused.

I don’t understand why his anger and mean words turn me on so much, but I’m helpless to it. We’re sick. What we do is just…depraved.

Whit shifts down, his mouth on my breasts, covering my sensitive skin with downright sweet kisses. He draws one nipple into his mouth and sucks and sucks, making me writhe beneath him. He does the same to the other one, biting the flesh, sinking his teeth into it as I struggle against his hold, crying out.

He releases my nipple, blowing a soft breath across it, the flesh throbbing from his bite. He returns his attention to the other nipple. Licking. Sucking. Biting. Hurting. I feel his teeth sink into my flesh and it turns into an ache between my thighs. I wrap my legs around his hips, wishing he’d slip inside me.

“I’m not using a condom,” he mutters, releasing his hold on me so he can reach between us, his hand gripping around the base of his dick. “I want to feel you.”

“I’m on the pill,” I tell him.

Whit laughs. “Of course you are. Pretty little whore. Fully prepared to fuck whoever you want with no consequences.”

Without thought I strike out, ready to slap him, but he’s faster, catching my wrist before I can smack his smug face. His expression darkens as he holds me, our gazes locked, me silently fuming. He makes me so incredibly angry when he says such awful things.

But deep down…I also like it. Too much sometimes.

“Don’t like it when I call you a whore?” he asks with a sneer. “Well, too fucking bad.”

He thrusts inside me, filling me completely, all the way to the hilt. A gasp escapes me and he releases my hand as he begins to thrust, pulling almost completely out before he pushes his way back in. He’s relentless, hammering inside of me at a steady pace, the force of his thrusts pushing me up the mattress and I take it.

Damn it, I enjoy it. Whit sinking inside my body feels so good. He’s not hesitant in his movements at all. There’s no fumbling, no asking if I’m sure, if I’m okay. No careful touches or gentle caresses. He’s brutal. He fucks me like a machine, his hips working, his thick cock driving inside of me again and again. It’s as if my entire being comes alive the more that he thrusts, until I’m clinging to him, our sweaty bodies stuck together as we move as one.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he says on a groan, burying his face against my throat as he presses me deeper into the mattress. I let my hands drift down, until they settle on his ass, and I feel the muscles there flex with every push inside my body. I press down, wanting more, wanting all of him, and he licks my neck. Sucks it.

My hands wander everywhere I can reach. His body is beautiful. Smooth and muscular and flawless. His cock fits perfectly, as if we were made for each other. Every time he pushes inside me, I see stars. My belly trembles. I’m going to come again.

I grip the back of his head, my fingers sinking into his silky soft hair and tugging. He grunts, going completely still above me, his cock throbbing, pulsating deep within my body just before he’s racked with shudders.

“Aw fuck,” he mutters through his teeth, his hips bucking wildly as he loses all control. A spurt of hot liquid floods me and I realize he’s coming. I clench my inner walls around him, purposely trying to milk him and a string of curses leaves his lips as he thrusts once. Twice. A third time.

And then collapses on top of me.

I lie there for a moment, trying to gather myself. I didn’t come. My entire body is on edge, eager to fall, but he doesn’t move. Disappointment crashes over me and I push at his shoulders, desperate to get him off of me.

He pulls out of my body, a gush of semen spilling out of me and leaving a wet spot. I roll away from it, plastering myself to his side, both of us trying to catch our breath.

“You didn’t come,” he says after a few seconds, his voice a whisp of sound.

I shake my head. “No.”

His hand lands between my legs, his nimble fingers finding my clit. He rubs it in circles, his pace quickening until he’s furiously trying to get me off. It takes nothing. A few assured strokes of his long fingers and I go off like a rocket, chanting oh God, oh God again and again as my orgasm rattles through me.

I crack open my eyes when he removes his hand from my pussy, just in time to watch as he sucks our mixed juices off his index finger. “Told you there would be three.”

My mind scrambles, remembering what he said only after he’s already climbed off the bed and casually putting his clothes on. I sit up, clenching my trembling thighs together as I watch him get dressed, trying to come up with something to say.

“Do you hate me?” he asks casually as he tugs his joggers on, foregoing his underwear.

I stare at him, unsure of what he wants from me.

“You should,” he continues, tugging the hoodie over his head, that beautiful torso disappearing from my view. “I treat you like shit, and still you come for me. Multiple times.”

“I hate you,” I agree, scooting away when he plops onto the edge of the mattress and puts his shoes on with his back to me.

“Good.” He sounds pleased. “I’ll eventually fuck you out of my system, give you back that drivel you call your deep thoughts and we can forget this moment in time ever existed.”

I watch as he stands and stretches his arms up toward the ceiling, his hoodie lifting and revealing a sexy sliver of his flat stomach. My mouth practically waters at the thought of licking him there.

Licking him everywhere.

“Because trust me, you are that forgettable.” I blink him into focus, realizing too late that he’s incredibly close. He grabs hold of my chin, forcing me to look at him. “Thanks for the fuck.”

He delivers a punishing kiss upon my lips before letting me go, striding toward the door without a backward glance, carefully opening and closing it as quiet as a church mouse.

His words run through my mind again and again, and I realize he’s full of shit. The only reason he came back to campus early was because of me. He couldn’t stop thinking about me. Those were his exact words.

I’m unforgettable. He’s just trying to convince himself that I am.

My lips start to curl and I rest my fingers on them, trying to stop the smile from spreading, but it’s no use.

Stupid, bratty boy.