Page 64 of Broken by my Bully (Lessons in Cruelty Dark Academia #1)

“This beautiful body wrapped in designer silk.”

He inhales a short, sharp breath through his nose and steps back to stare me down.

“I do,” he says, giving my throat one last, hard squeeze before releasing me.

All my mushy brain can come up with is a shaky, “You do?”

He rearranges his cock with a vicious jerk, dark eyes falling into shadow when he drops his chin. “After spending the afternoon with a bratty little cocktease like you?” He scoffs. “You can be glad I didn’t rail you against that taco stand.”

Tears prick my eyes. Not from fear.

From shock.

From humiliation.

From how wet I am.

“How fucking dare?—”

All it takes is a click of his tongue for me to fall silent. I let out a shuddering breath, and it sends a tear spilling down my cheek.

“When I tell you to strip, you strip. Or you can walk back to Agony Hollow in those broken flip-flops with my cum leaking out of both your tight little holes.”

I don’t know what happens in my brain. How his disgusting, condescending words manage to short-circuit my rational mind into obeying. Again.

But this is what happens around Bastian Rooke.

He’s weaponized his charm, his allure, his fucking sharp mind.

“I could get you fired for this,” I say, my voice as pathetic as the threat.

“Maybe. But you won’t.” He grabs that same piece of hair, twisting it around his finger till it pulls at my scalp. “You’re too curious to see where this goes. How it feels .”

Fuck him for always being right.

I pull off my blouse with shaking hands.

“The jeans.”

I hesitate. Lick my lips. But I unbutton them anyway. Push them down and kick them off. And then I stand there in my yellowed bra and period-stained underwear I’ve had since sophomore year of high school like I’m waiting to be inspected for lice.

That happens a lot down in Riverside. Dad nearly made me chop off all my hair once. If it hadn’t been for a lady down the street with a lice comb and the patience of a saint, I’d have rocked a pixie cut through most of elementary school.

“Christ,” he breathes, an odd smile quirking his mouth as he slowly circles me. “You really are trailer trash, aren’t you? No wonder you’re still a virgin.”

He catches my slap before I can touch his face.

Yanks. Twists.

Then I’m pressed against him, my wrist digging into the small of my back, his hard cock grinding against my pubic bone.

“Don’t even attempt to lie,” he murmurs, his dark eyes searching mine like he’s hunting for any trace of shame he can find. I try to hide it, but the goddamn tears keep springing up, keep overflowing, keep racing down my face like they’ve got somewhere else to be.

“I could smell it on you the day you walked into my class. That need. That desperation. Years spent wishing for someone to touch you properly.”

I’m still struggling for a response when his eyes dart down to the band-aid on my side. I flinch when he runs his fingers over it—not gently, but as if he wants to rub it away.

“What’s this?”

“Nothing.”

“So it has nothing to do with this?” His hand is on my throat again, thumb right beneath the tiny cut Kai sliced there with the tip of the knife.

“Cut myself shaving,” I say, voice strained by the unnatural angle of my neck.

“Hm.”

Bastian is not amused.

He reaches out and grabs the first dress on the railing. It’s a deep red, shimmering, the softest, silkiest fabric I’ve ever touched.

“Put it on.”

I fumble it off the hanger, step awkwardly into it, and drag it up my body. His eyes are on me the entire time, and I’ve never felt as exposed, vulnerable, dirty, ugly…and fucking turned on.

When our eyes meet in the mirror and I catch sight of the awed hunger so blatant on his face, I nearly spin around and kiss him.

I might be the only one who took their clothes off, but we’ve both been stripped bare in this dressing room. Me, down to my cheap, stained underwear. Him, to the predator I always knew lurked under that chivalrous facade he wears out in the world.

It takes effort to look at myself, but the color of the gown draws my eyes away from Bastian, to my own reflection.

I look…so unlike myself that I’m forced to blink back a sudden hot rush of tears.

Is this who I’d be if I just submitted to Bastian and let him remake me into his plaything? Is this even something I’d want to be turned into ?

Someone mature. Elegant. Ravishing?

He lets out a sound that’s part growl, part pained groan, and runs the back of his fingers up my arms. Then his fingertips skate down the dress’s open back, bumping over each vertebra in my spine.

“Now this is something worth ruining,” he says in a thick voice.

“You’re sick,” I whisper, a tear falling free as I begin to shudder under his intense stare.

“That’s what you find so compelling, isn’t it?” he murmurs right back, a soft smile on his mouth as his hands slide around my waist.

He drops his head next to mine, chases his lips up the side of my neck as our eyes stay locked on each other’s reflections.

“The dark in you craves the dark in me,” he whispers.

His hands move around to my stomach, slide up, headed for my breasts. I snatch at his wrists, stopping him.

Every inch of my pussy is tingling. There’s a hard, pulsating ache radiating into my core with every thump of my panicked heart.

I can’t do this. Can’t let this happen. Not this.

I’ve got to be stronger than this, right?

“Feel that?” He grinds his dick against me. Once. Twice. “That’s what you do to me. What you’ve been doing since you walked into my classroom.”

“Bastian—”

He chuckles cruelly. “Don’t worry. Your sweet little cunt is safe for now.” His lips brush my ear. “I won’t fuck you yet, Haven. Not until you’re begging for it. Not until you’d do anything—absolutely anything —to have me ruin you.”

One hand slides down. Cups my pussy through the silk.

I’m so wet that his grip leaves a dark patch on the exquisite fabric. I immediately buck into his hand, my eyes fluttering closed at the delicious pressure of his?—

Bastian pulls his hand away, leaving me with nothing.

Fucking nothing.

I blink at him, clench my jaw, and shove a hand between my legs. I’ve barely touched myself before he grabs my wrist, ripping my hand away.

“Learn to control yourself, Haven,” he rasps.

I scoff. “Why bother when you’re so good at it already?”

His smile is anything but charming. “I am, aren’t I?”

Someone clears their throat on the other side of the curtain. “Everything alright in there, you two?”

“Perfect,” Bastian calls out, stepping back. Adjusting himself again. “We’ll take everything.”

“Everything?” I whisper.

His smile is as dark as his eyes. “I want it all.”