Page 27 of Loving the Tormentor

There's a naked girl on her knees, her hands tightly gripping the jeans of the man holding his hard dick in front of her face. If it was just that, I wouldn't be so shocked. I'd apologize and leave the room in a hurry.

It'snotjust that.

She's crying, and on the floor between her knees and his feet, she's eyeing a terrarium.

"Tell me, Evelyn," he purrs. "Were you more scared of the snake or being caught on your knees about to suck my dick?"

Achilles Duval's gaze stays on me as he speaks, but mine drops to the floor again, and that's when I notice the small snake starting to slither out of the open container.

"Shit!" Evelyn shouts as she throws herself back so forcefully, I see her wrist twist in a worrying way. She whimpers as she lands on her ass and cradles her wrist to her chest. "Fuck, my wrist."

Achilles lets go of her hair, and she grapples for her clothes on the floor.

"Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I can't do this." Getting dressed in record time, she runs out of the room, her sobs still loud after she slams the door shut.

I stay frozen in place, my eyes on the snake as Achilles zips up his black jeans. He kneels next to the terrarium, takes the reptile in his hand, places it back inside, and secures the lid back on it.

I can't move, can't stop observing him. I'm not sure if it's because I know what he's capable of doing with a violin, but his hands look so strong to me as he grabs the terrarium and stands up again.

"Tell me something, scholarship," he says in a gravelly voice as he walks toward the desk to my left.

His shoulders stretch the black shirt he's wearing, and when he lifts his arms to put the snake on a shelf above the desk, my stomach liquifies at the muscles bulging in his arms.

I've never seen him this close for so long.

Once the terrarium is down, he turns to me and cocks an eyebrow. "Are you deaf?"

"Huh?" I shake my head, coming back to reality as he leans against the desk and crosses his arms over his chest. I automatically move to face him, tilting my head to have my right ear slightly forward so I can hear him better.

Steel eyes pierce through me, a tilted smile curving his mouth as he repeats. "I just asked, why are you always around when I'm trying to have privacy?"

He takes a step toward me. "When I have an argument with my mother."

Another step, and it seems more threatening. It takes all of me not to pull back.

"When I'm trying to get my dick sucked."

He stops right in front of me, and my eyeline lands just below his neck. I notice the necklace he wears, a gold chain with an ‘S’ hanging low.

"I just needed the bathroom," I snap as I look up at into his eyes. Heeding Peach's warning, I add, "You're not so important that I'd follow you everywhere." Kind of a lie. "So, next time, use another room to get your dick sucked using a fucking snake. Freak."

His mocking smile deepens. "Another room than mine?"

This time, I do take a step back.Shit.

I look around, wondering how I didn’t notice this is his room. There are music sheets everywhere on the desk. Books to study medicine. Mainly? There are four violin cases spread around the room.

"Whatever. Sorry," I mumble. "I'll leave."

He takes a step to the side at the same time I do. "You don't have to leave."

My heart flutters, and I'm certain I should look at anything but him. Yet my attention keeps going back to his handsome face. His high cheekbones give him an aristocratic elegance that breaks with the violence of his strong jaw. Just below the left side of his jawline, he sports a violin hickey—a bruise most violinists end up with when they play for long periods of time—and it excites me to no end.

Shit, I'm in Achilles Duval's bedroom.

But I've been warned enough times. About rich boys, men from SFU… Achilles, specifically.

"Not sure that’s a good idea for me."