Deviant

Chapter 8

Elias

I’m three beers in when I hear a car unexpectedly approach the driveway.

I don’t bother standing up from the patio couch to see who it could be. I’ve heard the hum of Rowen’s car engine enough times over the years to recognize it by heart.

A few seconds later, her wild chestnut hair comes into view, confirming my suspicion. Still, I continue to stare at the horizon, ignoring her completely. My silence doesn’t seem to faze her at all as she leans against the porch rail in front of me, a small patio table being the only barrier between us.

“If you came looking for your boyfriend, you could have spared the ride over. He’s not here,” I finally say, ending the odd, silent match we seemed to have been playing.

“I figured as much,” she replies, unbothered.

“You figured as much?” I parrot in amusement, suddenly curious about why she’s here, if she already knew Aidan wasn’t home.

“Hmm,” she nods. “If I’m not mistaken, he’s probably over at Mackenzie’s right now.”

Well, I’ll be damned.

Maybe she’s not as clueless as I thought.

“You don’t sound upset that my punk-ass brother is hooking up with someone else behind your back.”

Her expression remains completely placid at the remark.

“Should I be?” She shrugs indifferently.

“Most girlfriends in your shoes would.”

“Then I guess I’m not most girlfriends. It’s his life. I have no authority over him. He can do whatever he wants.”

The fuck?

Her being so nonchalant about getting two-timed irks me the wrong way.

“Jesus, you really don’t care, do you? Then why bother being with the dick-for-brains if you don’t give a shit?”

“I’ve been asking myself that same question.” She frowns. “I guess it is what it is.”

“Well, that’s a cop-out if I ever heard one.” I laugh, taking a sip of my beer.

“Like you’re an expert on the subject,” she dares to roll her eyes at me. “What could you possibly know about the complexities of relationships? You’ve never had one in your entire life.”

“And how the fuck do you know that?” I ask point-blank, surprised at her for knowing such an intimate detail about me. “You stalking me, or some shit?”

Even though her cheeks turn bright pink, she maintains that annoying, composed superior air about her.

Like father, like daughter.

“I just know.”

“You don’t know jack shit,” I grumble, hating her for having me so well pegged.

Aside from a few hookups, I never had much time for girlfriends or even dating, for that matter. I was too preoccupied with helping my mother raise Aidan and Nora since my deadbeat father was never around to do his share of the parenting. And then later, when Mom got sick, well… let’s just say I had more important shit to worry about than getting a fucking girlfriend.

“I know enough,” Rowen counters, a little smile playing on her lips.

“Yeah, well, I know shit too. I know when you’re a we instead of an I that shit means something.”

“And what exactly does it mean to you?” she challenges.

“It means what’s mine stays mine. I don’t fucking share.”

From where I’m sitting, I can see the golden flecks in her eyes shimmering brightly at the notion of what a genuine relationship should look like. It frustrates me how the moon enhances that sparkle, making it even more ethereal. My patience was already paper-thin before she got here, and this topic of conversation is only aggravating me further.

I drink the rest of my beer and place the empty bottle on the table next to its brethren. When a full minute passes by without her saying a word, my nerves become stretched to their full extent.

“If you suspected that your asshole of a boyfriend wasn’t here, then why did you come over at all?”

“To see you,” she states evenly.

“To see me?” I arch a suspicious brow.

“Yes.” She nods.

“Why?”

Again, she goes silent on me, her whole face contorting as she tries to find the right words to explain herself.

“I don’t have all night, Rowen,” I groan impatiently.

“I… uh… may I?” she says, pointing at the unopened beer bottle on the table.

“Are you twenty-one?”

“No. I’m twenty. You know that.” Her forehead creases, looking offended that I forgot her age.

I know how fucking old she is.

Especially when she stopped being jailbait.

“Twenty, huh? Then you’re shit out of luck.” I smirk, grabbing the bottle and popping it open just to piss her off.

But before the beer bottle reaches my lips, the little devil snakes it right out of my hand and takes a long-ass sip.

She wipes her cupid bow lips with her forearm after drinking half of the beer, handing me the rest.

“Cute,” I reprimand, making a show of pulling up my t-shirt to wipe the nozzle.

Instead of being offended by my revulsion, Rowen’s gaze lingers on my abs long enough for me to catch her.

“Take a picture. It will last longer.”

Another pretty shade of pink flushes her cheeks as she begins to stammer an apology.

“I… uh… sorry.”

“Just exactly what are you sorry for, Rowen? That you interrupted my me time, drank my beer without permission, or got caught eye-fucking me?” I taunt with a mischievous grin.

When her eyes widen in both embarrassment and lust, my cock twitches to life.

Damn it.

It should know better than to get excited over someone that I have deemed to be the bane of my existence. Though I really can’t blame the fucker for stirring awake. With everything that has been going on with the harvest season, my mother’s illness, Nora’s death, and fucking Rowen being responsible for it, my cock has been greatly neglected.

“I wasn’t,” she starts, but then thinks better of it and decides not to finish her sentence.

Instead, she looks around at her surroundings, suddenly feeling like she made the wrong decision in coming over tonight.

And boy, did she.

With my mom knocked out for the night and Aidan off doing god-knows-what with the mayor’s daughter, we’re practically all alone in this house.

With no one for miles to help her.

Suddenly, this visit feels like a gift that has fallen on my lap.

It’s not every day a prey hand-delivers herself to her predator.

I should take advantage of this serendipitous moment.

But how?

How shall I play with you, Roe?

“You know,” I start, tapping my fingers on the bottle, “you still haven’t told me why you’re here.”

“Because,” she replies, her gaze darting everywhere but at my face. “I wanted to talk to you.”

“To me?” I cackle, loving how this is all playing out in my favor. “Whatever the fuck for?”

“I… um… saw that my father gave you a hard time earlier tonight. And, well… I guess I just wanted to apologize for anything that he might have said.” My sudden upbeat disposition disappears at the mention of her father.

“You don’t even know what he said,” I rebuke.

“No, but I have a good idea.”

The corners of my lips dip into a disgruntled scowl.

“Do you, now?”

She nods.

“He probably told you that your presence at town hall meetings isn’t warranted and that you should sit the next ones out.”

“Something along those lines,” I confirm, still pissed that the fucker would demand such a thing of me.

“I’m sorry. He had no right to ask that of you. You have as much right as anyone to attend any meeting you want.”

“Like father like daughter,” I accuse this time out loud, my blood starting to boil.

“I’m sorry?” she asks, confused.

“You fucking should be with that patronizing shit. Do you think I care what you think? I know my rights, Rowen. I don’t need Little Goody Two Shoes to explain them to me.”

“No, that’s not what I meant… that was never my intention.”

“Yeah, I know what your intentions are, so let me tell you, hell is full of people with good fucking intentions.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“You didn’t mean to upset me?” I laugh out sinisterly. “Your very existence upsets me. Having to look at your face, fucking upsets me. You being here, in my home, un-fucking-invited upsets me.”

I breathe through my nose, trying to get a hold of my temper, as Rowen continues to stare at me with those big, doe eyes of hers.

Just as I’m about to tear her a new one, I decide to take a different approach instead—one that will wipe that innocent mask off her face and reveal her true colors once and for all.

“But, if you’re so worried about my feelings, I can think of a few ways you can make it up to me.”

“How?” she whispers.

“Come here,” I order.

“What?”

“You heard me. Come the fuck here,” I repeat more assertively.

She hesitates for a moment before reading the threat in my eyes.

Good.

It’s about time she knows who she’s messing with.

She takes baby steps toward me at a snail’s pace and stops halfway, unwilling to get too close for fear of what I might do.

She should be afraid.

“Closer.”

“I don’t understand—”

“I said closer. Don’t make me get up from this couch and make you.”

She inhales deeply and bridges the remaining gap between us until her knees brush against mine.

“There. I’m here. What do you want?” she says with a hint of defiance in her tone.

“What I want is for you to sit on my lap and make me come.”

“You wha—”

But before she finishes the word, my hand is already at her throat, wrapping around it until I feel her pulse beat under my fingertips.

“You want to make it up to me? To make me less upset? Well, these are my terms. Sit on my lap and make me come. That fucking simple.”

As my grip on her neck tightens, her rapid heartbeat takes flight. I stare deep into her hazel eyes as she considers her options.

As if she even had any.

“Tick-tock, Rowen. And bear in mind that patience is not a quality I’m known for.”

“If I do this, will you let me go?” she croaks.

“Do you really want me to?” I ask, amused, taking notice that her pupils doubled in size the second I grabbed her throat.

“I do,” she lies.

“Fair enough,” I reply, releasing my grip, my blood humming in delight with the imprint of my fingers now marked on her fair skin.

No more pretty summer dresses for her.

Only turtlenecks if she doesn’t want to have to explain to her daddy how she got such bruises.

Rowen can pretend all she wants that she’s sickened by my request, but the glimmer in her eyes betrays her. I watch as her chest begins to heave up and down as she slowly positions herself on my lap. When she’s finally straddling my thighs, I place my hand at the hollow of her back and push her against me. She gasps at the sudden move and places her palms flat on my chest to give her some breathing room.

“That’s better,” I smirk, elated with this little game of mine.

“Now what?” she says with a bite.

“Now you’re going to be a good little girl and rub that tight cunt on my dick.”

Every crude word is perfectly curated just for her because the blush that overtakes her face is just too delicious not to be enjoyed.

“I’m not going to do that,” she retorts as if she had any choice on the matter.

“On second thought,” I taunt, wrapping my hand around her neck again. “I like my hand exactly where it is. I’d like it even more if you were bound and gagged,” I forewarn, just so she knows that this game of mine is tame compared to all the shit I could do to her. “Now, what was that you were saying? The thing that you weren’t going to do?”

Rowen’s eyes become two fine slits as I add pressure to her neck. She’s getting off with the idea that I might just snap it at any minute.

It could well be the case.

I haven’t decided yet.

“Fine. I’ll do it. But don’t think I’ll enjoy a minute of it,” she continues to lie.

“Whatever you say.”

With her gaze fixed on mine, she slowly starts to rub herself on my half-mast cock. Her movements are languid and slow, as if she’s trying to find her rhythm while reacquainting herself with my length.

Not sure what Aidan’s fucking packing, but I know that I’m bigger than most.

So I let her do her thing and unlatch my grip on her neck yet again, leaning back onto the couch to give her more room to play with.

After discreetly positioning my phone, I pick up a beer and take a sip, pretending her little dance doesn’t affect me in any way.

The hardening of my cock, though, tells a different story.

“I’m bored. Take off your sweater,” I order as she shimmies up and down my girth.

“It’s not a sweater. It’s a cardigan,” she explains, her breathing starting to emerge in spurts.

“I don’t care what it is. Just take off this pink monstrosity.”

She gives me the evil eye but does as she’s told.

I find myself momentarily entranced as she unbuttons her cardigan, one button at a time, revealing a summer dress underneath—likely chosen with the sole purpose of projecting an image of the sweet, good girl everyone believes her to be.

My jaw clenches when she peels it off her bare shoulders, revealing smooth skin that goes on for days. The fact that the sweater is no longer covering her chest puts a smile on my lips. Two small studs, like fine-cut diamonds, peek through the flimsy material, attesting that little Rowen is more turned on than she wants to let on.

“Faster,” I order, gaining a little sigh from her.

She speeds up her thrusts, the heat of her hot pussy almost scorching my cock through my jeans. My jaw ticks as I imagine her using that delicate hand of hers to unzip my pants and pull out my cock. If my intention is to debase and humiliate her, then there is no way that’s happening. I’m not going to risk coming like some punk the minute she puts my cock in her hand. That would be giving her too much power. And I’m the only one who should have all the control in this scenario.

“I said faster, Rowen,” I demand through gritted teeth, losing my patience.

“If you want it so bad, you do it,” she spits out breathlessly.

I grip her throat again, forcing a little moan to drip from her pouty lips.

“You really don’t want me to take over. Believe me.”

“What are you going to do? Hurt me?”

“Don’t tempt me, Roe. You have no idea what I am capable of.”

“I’m not scared of you. You want to hurt me? Then hurt me.”

I let out a growl, hating that she actually thinks she can bait me into losing control. Though the thought of hurting her consumes me on the daily, I want to degrade her even more.

So, instead of falling for her trap, I lean in and whisper in her ear, “You’re such a stupid girl, aren’t you? You think you’re the one calling the shots? Look behind me, Rowen,” her eyes flicker behind my head to find my phone on the windowsill pointed in our direction, filming her dance on my lap. “I’m the one in control here. If you don’t make me come in the next five minutes, I’m going to send this video to your daddy and everyone else in this wretched town.”

Her eyes widen at the threat, knowing that I mean every word.

I can’t help but chuckle as she stares at my phone in panic, thinking I’ll have a recording of tonight’s little game for posterity, able to use and abuse as I see fit.

Little does she know that the fucking thing isn’t even recording.

Mind games are so much more fun this way.

“You can’t send that video to my father,” she says frantically.

“I can and I will. Unless you change my mind.”

“I hate you,” she says with little heat behind it.

“That makes two of us, sweetheart.” I grip her chin, my nails digging into her tender flesh. “Now show me that hate and make me fucking believe it.”

With steel determination, she wraps her arms around my neck and starts fucking me with her clothes on. My knee-jerk reaction is to pull her fucking arms off me, uncomfortable with her touching me. Still, my disgust falls to the sideline from how her pussy is grinding all over my cock as if it wants to know its every secret.

“You think that Mackenzie is doing this to your boyfriend right now? Grinding all over his cock until he jizzes in his pants?” I ask, wanting to think about anything else than the way the scent of our combined arousal hits my nostrils.

“I couldn’t care less what they’re doing,” she says, focused on her mission.

“No?” I taunt, tugging on one of her loose curls. “Not even a little bit?”

She shakes her head and licks her lips, her fingers starting to play with the ends of my hair.

“No? Isn’t there a little part of you taking pleasure in dry humping me just to show Aidan that two can play the same game?”

“Like I told you. I don’t care what Aidan does,” she pants, her full breasts bouncing up and down in my face, making my mouth water.

“Tell me, honestly… if you don’t give a fuck, then why stay together?”

“Because…” she pants, lost in her movements.

“Because?” I mimic, swallowing a groan when her pussy hits the tip of my cock just right.

“Because it’s expected. I’m expected to be with a guy like him.”

“And you always do what’s expected, don’t you?”

“Yes,” she moans, her head falling back of its own accord.

“You’re not doing what’s expected now, are you, Roe?” I grunt, latching onto her neck just to pull her face back to mine. “You’re not the good girl that everybody thinks you are. Isn’t that right?” She shakes her head, her gaze half-mast with want and lust. “You’re actually no good. You’re nothing. A waste of space.”

“Yes,” she sighs, rubbing her clit on me as if her life depended on it.

“And because you’re no good, you’re going to come on your boyfriend’s brother’s cock, aren’t you?”

“Yes. Yes. Yes,” she repeats, lost in it now.

“Fucking slut,” I growl, tightening my grip on her throat. She lets out another erotic sigh, making me harder than I’ve ever been before. “You’re a dirty slut, aren’t you? You’d love nothing more than to jump on my dick right now, huh?” She nods, too punch-drunk with euphoric sensations, unable to make heads or tails of what I’m saying. “Tell me you want it, Roe? Tell me you want my cock,” I demand, close to coming undone myself. She pants and moans, desperately rubbing her hot pussy to get the friction she desires. “Say it!” I grunt in her ear, tugging at her hair with my free hand so tightly a few strands end up around my fingers.

“I want it.”

“Not it, my cock. Say it.”

“I want your cock.”

“Where? Where do you want it?” I provoke, my voice unrecognizable to my own ears.

“In my pussy,” she’s quick to say, and my chest feelslike a boulder just smacked into it from how incredible the word pussy sounds coming from her lips.

“Just your pussy?” I taunt while brushing the back of my hand over her sensitive nipples, gaining another loud moan out of her.

She takes a minute to recover, so lost in this dance of ours that coherent thought eludes her.

I have to slap her ass just to wake her the fuck up.

“I asked you a question, Rowen. Where else do you want my cock?” She struggles to find her voice, forcing me to jab two fingers down her throat. “Here. Here is what you should have said. In your mouth, sucking it. Hard.” Her eyes widen at the intrusion, gagging when I push them further down. “If you can’t handle my fingers, how the fuck are you going to handle my dick?” I chide. “Now suck, Rowen, before I decide it’s your ass that needs priming.”

This spurs her into action, sucking on my digits, her tongue swirling around the tips of my fingers as if she could almost taste the crown of my cock. The image of her actually sucking me off has me just as wound up as she is. If I’m not careful, I’ll be the one coming before she does.

“That’s a good little slut. Take it all in,” I whisper, my voice dropping another octave.

Rowen moans in delight, her eyeballs going back into their sockets as she fucks me and sucks me dry.

She’s close.

So fucking close.

But then again, so am I.

Needing her to come first or risk losing this game entirely, I lean down and sink my teeth around one sensitive nipple, biting into her flesh and leaving a mark.

This sets her off, and before I’m able to do anything else, she shouts out her release, the sight of her coming doing my head in.

If I didn’t hate her so much, I might be inclined to think that she has never looked more beautiful than at this very minute.

The fuck are you thinking?

Get it together, asshole.

She’s still in mid-orgasm when I push her off me to lie back on the left side of the couch. She’s so bewildered by the act that she doesn’t even register when I stand up, unzip my pants, and take out my cock, jerking it two times to come all over her pretty little dress—the same one she likes to wear as armor to look all innocent and proper.

“There,” I say pleased. “Not so perfect anymore.”

She stares at the cum stains on her desecrated dress, looking fascinated as it soaks into the material. My brows pinch together when she runs a thumb over my cum, looking completely hypnotized by it.

She stays in this haze for a split second, but all too soon, she comes to her senses and stands up, putting as much distance from me as possible.

“The video. Erase it,” she demands, her face no longer displaying the pretty afterglow I was admiring a few minutes ago. I stare at her in amazement at how quickly she’s able to switch personalities. “Erase it, Elias,” she orders again.

“Be my guest,” I say instead, picking up my phone off the sill and throwing it over at her.

“There’s nothing here,” she says after doing a full search in it. “You lied to me.”

“I did. Or did you think you’re the only one with the monopoly on deceiving people?” I throw her a menacing grin. “Now get the fuck off my property. I’m done with you.”

There’s a hint of hurt in her eyes, but she doesn’t vocalize it, preferring to do as I say and leave.

A little more tarnished.

A little more broken.

A little more mine.

Yes.

Playing with Rowen has just become my favorite pastime.

First, I’ll peel off her mask, revealing how she isn’t as pure and innocent as she likes to portray to the rest of the world.

I’ll take whatever pride she still has stashed away, and then I’ll go after her sanity.

And ultimately, when she’s good and broken, I’ll take away her life.

This is going to be more fun than I anticipated.