Deviant - Black Mountain Academy

“Don’t pretend to care after being such an asshole back at the party,” she spits with fire blazing in every word. “I don’t like fake people, smiling to my face and scowling at my back, and for the record, I don’t want people treating me with kid gloves.” Her eyes lock on mine. She watches me for a long while.

“I’m no gentleman, Arabella,” I whisper, never dropping my gaze, holding hers hostage for a moment too long. I want her to look right into me. I want her to see the dark parts of me I know will scare her away.

“I don’t run away as easily as other girls might, Mr. Donati,” she informs me with a soft smile on her lips. They curve upward at the corners, and her eyes shine with a challenge that has me leaning forward. A gasp tumbles from those plump lips as they part with surprise at my actions.

I lift my hand, tangling my fingers through the long locks of her hair, feeling the softness of the golden tresses, and I grip them harshly. I earn myself another dick-jolting whimper.

“Don’t tempt me, little deviant,” I growl, low and feral, and she shivers at my words. “This isn’t a game. No matter how much you try, I won’t allow you to run this show. And to be clear, I’m not always one for breaking rules, but with you, I might make an exception.”

This time, only the corner of her mouth turns into a grin. Her tongue darts out, licking her lower lip, wetting it just like I want to. “I’m not afraid of men like you,” she tells me. “I’ve seen my fair share of bad men, and they don’t scare me.”

“This is a dangerous game you’re playing, Arabella,” I warn her once more, wanting her to fear me. I need her to, or I’ll end up doing something I really shouldn’t be doing—claiming her lips with my own.

She leans forward, her mouth inches from mine, and I can practically taste her purity. “What if I wasn’t playing a game?” she challenges, her hot breath caressing over my face, and my cock hardens in my slacks. The zipper causing pain in my crotch from just how fucking hard she’s making me. I release her hair but grip her face between my thumb and forefinger, holding her close.

“A deviant with angel’s wings,” I muse. “You have no idea what you’re doing. Playing adult games, and you’re only a nineteen-year-old girl. I was being nice giving you a lift home, but—”

“I thought you weren’t nice. Make up your mind about what you want, Mr. Donati.” She whispers my name with condescending sweetness. “Thank you for the lift. I’ll see you in class on Monday.” She tugs free, pushing open the passenger door, and shutting it with a bang before sashaying toward the house. I watch her for a moment, how her hips sway, how her hair flicks left to right, and how those slender legs move.

I wait until she’s inside the house, no doubt frustrated from our interaction. However, I’m anything but. I’m more turned on than I’ve been in a long fucking while. She thinks she can handle this game, but I’ll make sure my little deviant works her ass off just to please me.8HERTHE PASTI knew I shouldn’t have done it, but I craved the attention, the touch of his fingertips as they trailed over my skin. In the darkness of the room, he wasn’t him and I wasn’t me. We were strangers, drenching ourselves in sin.

And I’ve never felt so good.

I said yes to him when I should’ve said no.

I don’t at all regret it.

The door clicks, and I watch as he moves through the room. I don’t breathe for a moment because I can’t deny just how beautiful he is. Everything about him is perfect. From his broad shoulders to the finely chiseled dips and peaks of his torso.

My fingertips tingle to touch them. To feel his smooth skin under my hands. I want to trace my tongue along the V that snakes from his hips down into tight boxer briefs. I can’t look away, committing him to memory because I know I’m not going to be here for long.

The thoughts in my mind swill and spin. I should be at home, but I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to see him once more. The door opens again, allowing light to stream through the bedroom, and she walks in. Long, dark hair cascading down her shoulders.

Jealousy burns through me, reminding me of the humanity that lies within me. The emotions that I usually push to the back of my mind. I don’t like feeling these things, but he promised me it was us and nobody else.

They move together. His arms slip around her waist as she grips his shoulders, much like I did just last night. It’s wrong. It’s immoral. But the deviance I’ve become well acquainted with doesn’t want to leave me be. So, instead of hiding it, I now bask in it.