Deviant - Black Mountain Academy

“Good morning, Mr. Donati,” she says in a syrupy-sweet voice. The look in her eyes turn my blood hot, my body molten. My hand itches to spank her perfectly rounded ass. She’s toying with me when I’m meant to be the one in control.

I follow her. Keeping my distance, I ensure my eyes are on her every second as she makes her way through the throng of students and into homeroom where she has her first class. It’s empty because there’s still fifteen minutes before the bell rings.

“What are you doing?” I stop at the desk where she’s set her backpack down. “I’m done dancing around this thing between us. You want this?” I question, my voice tight with tension. My muscles ache. They’re wound so tight I’m sure they’ll snap if she pushes me further.

“If I say yes, what exactly does that get me?” she asks, a sly grin making her full lips look like a temptation sent straight from hell. If I didn’t know any better, I would be convinced she is the devil incarnate. A succubus here to suck the soul from me. “I like Ahren, and if you want to tell me who I can and can’t be friends with, then perhaps this isn’t going to work after all.”

I lean over her, knowing we could get caught at any moment. Heat sizzles between us when I grip her neck with my fingers wrapping right around the slender column. “Listen to me right fucking now. This isn’t ending here. I say when it’s over.”

“Do you?” Her challenge is clear. She knows she has taken the power.

I’ll allow her that.

I can’t keep fighting this.

Our banter is filled with sexual tension. She may be younger than me, but she most certainly is not immature when it comes to this thing between us. “Meet me in my classroom this afternoon.”

“And if I don’t?” Her brow arches, and I slowly trail my gaze over her face, dropping it to her chest where I can see the red bra cupping her perfect tits.

I release her, stepping back before I bite out, “Then we’re done.”

“I don’t accept that.” Arabella folds her arms across her chest, the tight white shirt of her uniform molding to her tits, which doesn’t help the fact that my cock is slowly waking.

“Are you trying to tell me you want Ahren and not me?” I throw out my challenge, causing her cheeks to darken with a blush that has my palm tingling. “Or is it that you want us both?” Her mouth falls open, plump shimmering lips forming an O that has my zipper tightening.

I read about her little fling not long after her father died. I scanned every piece of evidence I could, learning about her being caught between the two sons of a politician, her father’s competition. But that’s not what got her caught—it was the fucking video one of the guys posted on his social media that had her face plastered across the news. But I have a feeling that’s not the whole story. I will get it out of her, one way or another.

They were all high, tripping on drugs that should’ve put her in the hospital. When I saw the state of her, I knew she believed her father was dead. And that brought her here, to hide from the press, to finish her schooling. She was put back a year, forced to repeat and finally complete her senior year.

However, she’s the daughter of Davenport, which is the reason she’s captured my attention. When I received a folder delivered anonymously, the truth had been in black and white. I already knew who she was, but with concrete evidence of her daddy dearest, I must make my choice—kill her or fuck her.

“I’m sure he told you what I said,” she sasses me. She knows she has surprised me with her fire, but what she doesn’t know is that I’m going to talk to Ahren. I want her. I can’t share her. When he and I first spoke about it, I was convinced it wouldn’t bother me. But it does. Far too much.

“Is that your final answer, little deviant?” My brow arches in question, the words lingering between us before she pulls out a strawberry lollipop she slowly unwraps before taking the ball-shaped sucker and popping it between her plump lips. “I know why you’re here,” I tell her, and for a split-second, I see the fear in her eyes. She knows what I’m talking about, but she shrugs it off. “And I will not allow you to fall into that dark rabbit hole again.”

Arabella pulls the sticky candy from her mouth before asking, “Oh? And what do you think you know about me, Mr. Donati?” Her eyes say one thing, and her mouth says another. Those stormy grays shimmer with concern, with remorse, but those lips taunt me as if she’s enjoying this immensely.