Page 22

A lexander Reign is a fucking asshole. A player, a whore, a goddamn infuriating, maddening fucking asshole. So why can’t I stop thinking about his lips against mine? Why, when my boyfriend is here, finally treating me exactly how I want, do I keep searching for him instead? Ben thinks we’re having fun, that this party is going to lead to us spending the night together, and as I think about what Alexander might be doing with not just one, but three damn girls outside, I’m ready to throw caution to the wind with my fucking ring.

I watch him follow after the three beautiful girls who just invited him outside, pretending my heart isn’t aching in my chest. He isn’t doing anything wrong, like he said, he’s the single one, not me, but then why do I care more about what he’s doing than my boyfriend?

Ben storms toward me with a face like thunder, and I await his verbal assault, not sure how much he just saw, but instead when he reaches me he smiles. “Well, looks like he’s about to have a fun night, huh?” he purrs, crowding me against the wall, as he nods his head in the direction of the back door. “I heard he has quite the reputation as the campus whore,” he adds, and I almost flinch beneath his words.

“Well, then the people who say that don’t know him very well,” I snap back before I can stop myself, and something flashes across Ben’s stare, but it’s gone before I can decipher it.

“Well the only person I want to know better is you, pretty girl,” he whispers, leaning down to trail his mouth along my jaw, as I suppress my shudder. “Come on, let’s go,” he murmurs into my ear, lacing his fingers with mine, dragging me down the hall and back toward the party.

I don’t look back the way Alexander left, scared of what I might see, and instead I let my boyfriend lead me upstairs where the music isn’t as loud. “Where are we going?” I ask Ben, but he doesn’t stop, not until we reach the top and he tries a couple of the doors, before finally letting himself into one of the rooms.

Alexander’s room.

“Ah this is perfect,” he starts, barely giving it a second look before he drags me inside and shuts the door behind us.

I don’t even get a chance to do anything before his lips are on mine, and he is pushing me against the door and shoving his tongue in my mouth. He kisses me harder than he ever has before, his hands rough as they explore my body, and I will myself to relax. To try and sink into the moment like I have a thousand times before, but somehow it doesn’t feel the same as it once did.

We’ve gotten hot and heavy plenty of times, but it was always with an invisible line drawn in the sand. We knew our values, or at least we thought we did, and we knew we wouldn’t cross the line, but things are different now. We are different now. Not only do I no longer feel connected to my faith anymore, but I no longer feel connected to him either. Not when I now know what it’s like to be treated with so much kindness and respect that I realize how much I have been missing out on. It may have been a loss that brought me here, but what I have gained in return has been staggering.

This isn’t what I want anymore. He’s not what I want.

Ben trails his mouth down my neck, licking and sucking as he goes. “I’ve waited so long for this, pretty girl, you were made for me.” His words are spoken against my skin, as if he is willing them to brand me just to make them true, but in all honesty I feel nothing.

No, that’s not true, I feel plenty of things. Want, jealousy, lust, just not for my boyfriend. Is Alexander kissing those girls? Are they all kissing him? Are his hands in their hair like they were in mine? Do they feel this deep yearning inside of their chests for something they have never had before?

“You’re the perfect fucking vessel, Bree,” Ben grunts against my chest, startling me from my thoughts, as his hand slides up my inner thigh. “God knew I was worthy, and he granted me his greatest gift of love.” His words are paired with his fingers brushing against my lace-clad pussy, and this time I can’t stop the flinch.

“Ben, what the hell are you doing?” I ask in a panic, and I don’t miss the roll of his eyes, his fingers still continuing their exploration of my body.

The only thing I want from God right now is for him to make this stop.

“Don’t curse, Bree, not in a moment as sacred as this,” he grits, using his free hand to pull at the straps of my dress, tugging one down off my shoulder so he can palm at my breast. “I’ve waited so long for you to give yourself to me, you’re going to be mine, mind, body, and soul,” he continues on, his mouth and hands too focused on what he thinks is about to happen to pick up on my panic and disgust.

“No, Ben, we can’t,” I start, trying to gently guide his hands away, but both his hands flex a little harder against my chest and pussy.

“Bree, I’ve been patient, I’ve waited and fucking waited, but I’m not waiting anymore,” he snaps, making my hands freeze slightly, as his eyes snap to meet mine in anger. “Don’t act like you don’t want this, your body is screaming to be worshipped.” He smooths out his brow and kisses me again, not caring that I’m not reciprocating. “You’re going to show me that you belong to me, you’re going to worship me as we give ourselves to God and each other.”

I don’t bother pointing out that I’m pretty sure that’s not how it fucking works, he should know, he’s the pastor, but as he reaches for me again, I whip my head to the side so his mouth catches my cheek instead of my lips.

“No, we’re not doing this,” I tell him, pushing his hands off, and he sighs in frustration as he pulls away a little. “We can’t, not like this, not here,” I add, gesturing to our surroundings, and though I try to keep my voice level and firm, it rises on the last two words, and his eyes narrow instantly.

“Not here?” he repeats in question, only now taking a moment to study the room a little harder, and I know the moment he spies Alexander’s jersey on top of the laundry basket, as he scoffs. “This is his room, isn’t it?” he forces out in a furious tone, and when I don’t respond, he shouts, “Isn’t it?” I startle under his yell, nodding quickly, as tears burn the back of my eyes. “This is about him isn’t it, you fucking want him!” he yells, crowding back into my space, and I press myself back into the door.

“No, it’s not like that, I just…” I trail off because I can’t bring myself to lie anymore. Not to him or myself.

“What, you’ve been the virgin fucking Mary all your life, and the second you meet a guy with a fat wallet, suddenly your pussy is wet and ready to be spread?” he snaps in anger, and as his words slam into me, I am stunned into silence. I have never heard him talk like this. “And what? You think the whore of fucking Fairfield gives a fuck about you?” he adds with a humorless laugh. “He’d fuck you and discard you in less than a minute, and if you think he wouldn’t, then you’re more pathetic than he is,” he sneers, and my hand flies up of it’s own accord, slapping him hard across the face, forcing his head to the side.

“Fuck you, Ben,” I snarl, pushing him away and ripping open the door, but he snatches my elbow up in a bruising touch.

“You’re fucking mine, Bree, come hell or high water, so go and throw your little fucking tantrum about your crush and then get your ass back here, we’re leaving.” He uses his grip on my elbow to shove me away from him, and without even thinking I rush down the hall to the bathroom, locking myself inside.

And for the first time in months, I pray.

Please God, give me fucking strength.