Page 30 of Conquered (Highgate Preparatory Academ:y Compendium)

CHAPTER TEN

JAX

I head to the gym, my muscles tense.

I need to burn off this...whatever the fuck this is since a certain brunette with haunted hazel eyes walked into our lives fourteen fucking days ago, wearing nothing but a towel covering those delicious curves.

She was full of fire and sass, but there was a pain in her eyes, one that made my own beast sit up, sniff the air, and take notice.

My dick stirs in my black shorts, pressing against the fabric as I think about her sitting on the toilet, her glorious rosy tits out, staring at me with a look of slight fear, yet pupils blown with lust.

The fucked up asshole that I am, it’s that edge of fear that really makes me hard. Imagining my big hands wrapped around her throat, and squeezing as I pound hard and fast into her tight cunt…

Fuck!

I start walking faster, I'm practically jogging at this point. I desperately need the release that only working out can give me. Nothing else comes close to the freedom I feel when I’m pushing myself to get bigger, to become stronger.

It's an addictive pain; building bulk, tearing muscles.

Getting bigger hurts like a motherfucker sometimes, but I need to be strong.

Powerful. Able to defend those that I love.

Reaching the locker room, I scan my ID card across the keypad on the door to gain access, and then step through to be engulfed with the sweet smell of sweat and hard fucking work.

A relieved sigh escapes my lips as I breathe it in, comfort washing over me and relaxing me like nothing else. Excited anticipation pulses through me as I reach my locker, using my card again to open it.

A box of unused hypodermic needle syringes fall out, scattering across the floor with a clatter, some landing a few lockers away.

“Shit,” I curse under my breath, bending down and picking up the ones at my feet. Turning to reach for the few that landed a couple of feet away, I see a muscled hand, not anywhere near as big as mine, grab them and hold them out to me.

“You dropped these, bro,” he says, a slight tremor in his hand. Pussy. Kyle? Karl? Some shit like that, I think. “How’s it going?” he asks, trying to catch my eye.

“Yeah, good, I guess,” I grunt, looking at him, not really wanting to talk.

“Hey, can you hook me up with some more juice? Your dad gets us the best shit,” he replies, a touch of envy in his voice as he hands me the packet of hypos. His eyes are wide and hopeful, with a touch of hero worshipping. Fucking pathetic.

“Sure,” I mumble, facing my locker, clenching my fist and almost breaking the needles as thoughts of the cumstain who calls himself my father flashes across my vision. He’s such a cuntish waste of oxygen.

I stuff the syringes back into the box, placing them into my locker. Taking my earbuds out of their case, I pop them in, discouraging further conversation.

Exiting the locker room, leaving him standing there like a fucking douche, I hit play on my phone, and Scared of the Dark by Lil Wayne and Ty Dolla $ign comes on.

The lyrics flow over me as I wrap my hands and walk over to the punching bags, laying into one and making it swing violently.

The dull thud of my fists hitting the bag sounds to the beat of the song.

I’m not fucking weak, and I’m not scared. Not anymore.

LILLY

I emerge from the library on Friday night, bleary-eyed from all of the reading that we’re expected to do, and the tough first two weeks we've just had.

They don’t fuck round here, do they? I think wearily as I make my way down the dark corridor towards my dorm. A shadow steps in front of me, and I freak the fuck out, jumping about six feet in the air and screaming like...well, like a girl.

“Jesus fucking Christ on a cross!” I shout as the light hits his face, and I recognise him as one of the guys that hangs out with the Save the Whale Crew.

He's even got on a blue stone washed t-shirt with ‘Keep the Beaches Clean’ written on it. I must admit, the surfer vibe does suit his dark blonde hair, which is longer on top reaching to just above his ears. But there’s a coldness in his blue gaze that leaves me feeling the need to run, and run far away.

“Sorry, babe,” he chuckles, reaching out to steady me with his hand. I take a step back, but feel his sweaty palm through my top as it alights on my arm. Eww, back off, perv .

“No worries…” I trail off. I can’t for the life of me remember his name.

“Robert,” he prompts with a charming smile. Although it seems a little off, like the smile Hook gives Peter Pan before he tries to stab him. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I would stab that brat too. Fucking chauvinistic twat.

“No worries, Robert.” I smile tightly and go to move down the hall. But he doesn’t let go of my arm, if anything, his hand tightens. A shudder runs through me.

“Was there...something you wanted to say?” I enquire, looking up from his hand to see his smile widen a fraction. Alarm bells start to ring in my head matching my beating heart.

“Well, I heard you were...good friends with Loki, so I wanted to see if you’d like to go for a walk? I’d love to be friends with a girl who has your...experience.”

Wow! Someone smacked him a little too hard with the charming stick and ended up at fucking bellend.

“I’m gonna go with a hard no on that one. Thanks, but no thanks,” I deadpan as I turn to walk away. His grip becomes bruising, enough to cause a sharp intake of breath to escape me, which only makes him tighten it more, his eyes sparkling with a hint of lust and excitement.

“I thought we could go this way,” he guides us down the hall, still oozing boy next door charm, if one could be a boy next door type with a malicious glint in his eyes. What a straight up cunt.

He gives me the shivers, but not the good kind. He starts dragging me down the corridor when I begin to resist in earnest, trying to pull my arm out of his bruising grip.

“Get your fucking slimy hands off me!” I shout, my heart pounding as I try twisting in his grip.

All of a sudden, I hear a rumbling growl behind me, my body sagging in relief at the same time that my nipples harden.

Firstly, what the fuck kinda reaction is that? We should be shitting ourselves. Secondly, give me a break, nips! You girls have been like a fucking standing ovation since we came here.

Robert pauses to look behind him, the colour draining from his face and leaving him paler than a corpse.

One second I’m looking into his white pasty complexion, the next a sharp pain stings my arm, and Robert the fuckface is no longer holding onto me.

He’s been ripped off and is literally being pinned by his neck to the wall by a hulking Norse god who's vibrating with rage.

Robert's face is no longer as pale as Casper’s, in fact, it's slowly turning purple. His eyes are bugging out in the most unattractive way, like a frog that's being squeezed.

“You ever touch her, or fucking look at her again,” Jax snarls, teeth bared. His voice is like dark shadows, full of warning as if he's a beast about to rip this guy's throat out with his teeth. “I will tear your fucking balls off with my bare fucking hands.”

Called it.

An acrid smell fills the air as Robert, like the pathetic wanker that he is, pisses himself. Ewww. Jax gives him a small shake then lets him go, leaving him a gasping heap on the floor, covered in his own urine. Fucking disgusting.

“Get the fuck out of here,” Jax sneers in that delicious growl, and Fucktard— he doesn’t deserve his own name —struggles to his feet and stumbles down the corridor.

“Jax?” I whisper, his back towards me. His whole body is shaking, his fists are tightly clenched, and his breathing is laboured.

“Jax?” I say again softly, approaching him like I would a wounded wild animal. I give him some space, walking round his side. I’m cautious, but my compass must be screwed because suddenly, my core is aching with need even as my heart races with more than a little fear.

“Jax, hey, I’m okay,” I assure him, feeling so protected when I’m in his presence, like nothing will ever hurt me again.

I know in my very bones that he'll never harm me.

That I'm safe. Which is batshit crazy as I barely know the guy.

I should be terrified of his barely controlled rage, but I'm just.. .not.

I finally reach him, coming round to that beautiful broad chest of his. His eyes are now closed, his nostrils flared with the effort of his breaths. He looks like he's about to explode, danger and barely suppressed violence rolling off him in intoxicating waves.

Hesitating for a beat, I take a deep breath and step closer until I’m surrounded by his wonderful citrus musk— ah, he’s the lemon body wash —and my hand makes contact with his impossibly hard pec, which is burning with his body heat.

I can feel the beat of his heart through his tank top, pounding so hard and fast that I'm amazed it's still trapped inside his chest.

“Don’t touch me yet,” he says roughly, my hand immediately stilling. “I don’t want to hurt you.” His voice is like velvet covered boulders sliding across my skin.

“I trust you, Jax. You won't force me to do anything I don’t already want with you,” I whisper, surprised at how quickly my fear has given way to lust.

His eyes snap open, the blue piercing like icicles, slicing straight through me, and I gasp.

“Baby Girl…” he starts through clenched teeth, his jaw so tight his short beard bristles with tension. “I don’t have the control…”

His words have the opposite effect on me, and rather than scare me, they make my thighs clench tighter and my heart pound.

My fingers tingle and I’m left feeling breathless, the want I can see in his gaze setting my nerves on fire.

I need the risk he poses. I’m like the rabbit that needs the chase to feel alive.

“So lose control,” I breathe, my fist bunching in his tank, my mouth a hair's breadth away from his.