Page 17 of Conquered (Highgate Preparatory Academ:y Compendium)
CHAPTER THREE
LILLY
S eething at Asher’s rudeness, I slam my holdall down on the counter just as I hear the braying laugh of Loki from the other side of the door, and I smile to myself.
One point to me, zero to twatwaffle. I start to rummage in my bag.
Bingo! You see, I may have a slight addiction to lingerie.
If it’s lacy and racy, I’ve got to have it!
I’ll ease them in gently, I think, pulling out a dusky rose silk teddy with black lace trim, that luckily is dry.
I slip it on, a small moan of pleasure at the feel of the silk sliding across my body escaping my lips.
Towelling dry my hair then finger combing it, I look in the mirror.
A smirk curves my lips, and I jut my chin out as a puffed-up feeling radiates through me.
My hazel eyes are sparkling, full of mischief.
I can hear faint talking as I open the door, leaving my bag where it is because fuck Ash, he can move it if he doesn’t like it.
When I step out, I see they’re all lounging on the sofas.
Four pairs of jewelled eyes snap to me, and the flare of heat that enters each pair is enough to rival the burning embers in the fireplace.
They watch like hawks, I swear they’re not even breathing, as I sashay out of the bathroom and cross to the stairs.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Asher’s voice cracks over me, although there’s definitely an edge of arousal to his tone. Arsehole, or should I say Ash-hole, snort .
I pause on the bottom step, twisting my upper body slightly and looking at him over my shoulder.
“You said I couldn’t have my room.” His right eyebrow raises. “So, I figured I would sleep in someone else’s,” I say, wide-eyed. My pulse picks up and I bounce slightly on my feet, adrenaline surging through me.
I look at Loki. “May I share your bed for the night?” I ask, batting my eyelashes, my voice breathy.
It comes out huskier than I’d intended, my mouth a little dry.
I’d be a liar if I said I wasn’t a bit excited about snuggling up to the sinful angel.
I’m also not ashamed to admit a breath of relief at the idea of not sleeping alone.
I’ve struggled to sleep a whole night through since— nope! Still not going there!
He jumps over the back of the sofa he’s sitting on, like a fire has just been lit under his arse, and beams as he walks towards me.
“Always happy to lend a hand to a damsel in distress.” He smiles. “Or a tongue...or cock…” he adds, lowering his voice, and flashing me such a panty melting smile that has my thighs instantly clenching.
“Loki…” Asher warns, voice deep and stern, like the cockblocker he is.
Loki shrugs, in a 'what can I do’ way.
“Ash, dude. She’s right, ya know. You did say she couldn’t sleep in that room. Nothing about sleeping in one of ours…”
Asher, or Ash, growls low, and fuck me if I don’t clench my thighs a little tighter. Loki notices and smirks. Wanker.
Loki turns away with a shit-eating grin on his face, swaggering ahead of me, and I let out a gasp of surprise.
On his back, he has an incredible inked angel, who is down on one knee, head bowed over crossed arms, and hands resting on his knee.
His folded wings cover both of Loki’s shoulders, curling over with an air of such desolation that my heart fractures in my chest like ice on a lake in spring.
He really is a fallen angel.
As I follow the wings that cascade down his body, I notice broken feathers littering his lower back. I can’t help myself, I reach out and trace my fingers along those broken wings, causing Loki to pause, and a slight shiver to travel across his skin.
He doesn’t say anything but turns back around to me, my fingers falling away, and the pain and sorrow that’s in his green eyes makes my own fill with moisture, and my heart cracks even more.
We stay like that for a few moments, gazes locked and filled with hurt. Then he, once again, turns away from me and treads up the stairs. There’s an ache in my chest as I watch him.
I follow him up, my steps heavier than before.
Once we reach the top, there’s a hallway with one door at the end and two on either side, so five in total.
As we pass the first door on the right, I notice a little brass plaque on it, with a name, Jax Griffiths , engraved onto it.
I see the other doors all have plaques with the guys' names on it as well, except for the one opposite Loki’s which has nothing at all.
Well, that’s useful to know who is where.
As Loki reaches for the brass doorknob, he looks at me over his shoulder.
His eyes rake slowly up and down my silk clad body, causing my nipples to pebble, even though these dorms are toasty warm.
The emerald colour of his gaze shines and sparkles as he takes in my hardened nubs, and a feline grin spreads across his lips.
“I sure hope you know what you're doing, Pretty Girl,” he states in his low, smooth as honey voice.
I swallow hard and audibly, and his eyes flash to my throat, the flame in his gaze getting hotter.
You can do this, Lilly, I repeat to myself. Take the comfort that’s offered. Numb the pain for a little while.
With that thought, I throw my shoulders back, putting my best breasts forward, lols .
“You gonna let me in or what, Angel?” I sass, one brow raised.
Loki throws his head back and crows with laughter.
“I think you’ll do just fine here, Pretty Girl.” He grins, looking at me appreciatively once again, then turns to open his door. He stays in the doorway, one arm held out, indicating I go ahead like a real gentleman.
“Mi casa es su casa. What’s mine is all yours, Darlin’.” He tells me, waggling his damn eyebrows like some sort of old man comedian.
I chuckle, relieving some of the sexual tension, and any lingering apprehension that was threatening to drown me.
As I pass him in the doorway, I’m suddenly engulfed once again with his warm vanilla scent when I take in a deep breath, and I can feel the heat from his delicious body all down my side.
I mentally lament my hardened nipples that are practically screaming for that delectable tongue of his to sweep across them. I’m smuggling fucking peanuts here!
Bloody hell, Lilly! How many fucking times do we need to drag your head out of that gutter? You may as well take up residence there at this rate!
I take another deep breath in a bid to calm myself down and look round the room, trying to distract my mind from fallen angels and the oblivion that their clever tongues can give.
His room is tastefully decorated in navy and cream with dark wood furniture. The walls are covered with a floral patterned wallpaper in the same colours, which should look feminine, but doesn't.
Wait, is that fucking fabric on the walls? I shake my head at the pretentiousness of it .
Opposite the door, there are floor-to-ceiling curtains in a sumptuous navy velvet that are drawn against the dark storm that is raging outside.
To the right, sitting against the wall is a large dark wood desk, topped with navy leather and one of those industrial looking lamps.
There's a comfy navy blue leather desk chair in front of it.
Next to that is a huge, dark wood wardrobe with a mirror in the door. I can see the reflection of what must be the biggest bed in Christendom. My head jerks to the left to look at it in the flesh.
Devil's teeth!
The wooden frame is dark, mahogany maybe, and it’s got huge, thickly carved wooden posts draped in what must be silk curtains given the shine, which have the same pattern that the walls do.
Definitely silk on the walls then, I inwardly scoff. The bed is covered in navy and cream bedding, which is all deliciously rumpled like it wasn’t vacated long ago.
He steps up behind me, so close I can feel the heat of his body warming my back like a furnace and I can’t help leaning into the heat. A split second later, hot, sweet breath whispers in my ear.
“Like what you see?” His voice sends shivers of desperate longing down my spine, causing a cascade of tingles to trail to my extremities, right down to the tips of my toes.
Hello, nipples. Long time no see. Not.
“Pretty Girl, I'm hoping you weren't joking back there in front of the others. You're wrapped up so nicely, like a present just for me,” he murmurs softly, still not touching me. I can't say a thing, my breath caught in my chest. I'm utterly under his spell.
“I’m very good at sharing; generous, too,” he says breathily, as his finger finally makes contact and plays with the back of my waistband, leaving my nerve endings tingling.
The digit then drops down to the black lacy hem, causing a soft moan to escape my lips and my eyes to close, revelling in his touch.
“You’d look exquisite on my bed, and I'd bet you come so prettily all over my sheets,” he purrs against my ear, his voice like dark chocolate, decadent and sinful. “Can I make you come, baby? Can I touch you?”
I never knew the meaning of insta-lust until now.
I mean, sure, I’ve seen guys that make my breath hitch a little, but the way Loki is speaking to me, touching me, I want to give him permission to do all the bad naughty things to me his heart desires.
And I don’t care what his motives are, or why he wants me so badly. I just need him not to stop.
“Yes,” I beg, trembling, my legs slightly parting. I’m unable to stop this exquisite torture, even though I know I should. For fuck’s sake, I’ve only just met the guy!
He steps closer, eliminating any distance between his front and my back, and I gasp at the contact, at the sudden hardness between us.
His finger reaches round to the front of my knickers, slowly sliding underneath the silk, and he discovers just how wet I am.
A low moan escapes my lips, my hand wrapping around his wrist tightly and holding on for dear life.