Grayson.'Tell him to go to hell.,Her words echo in my mind, a loop I can't silence no matter how hard I try. They're seared into my brain, branded there alongside the memory of her tear-stained face and the way she looked at me like I was everything she'd learned to fear.I don't know how I ended up at her door last night. I hadn't planned it—hell, I didn't even know what I could say. Sorry I destroyed you with surgical precision? Sorry I chose to be the monster you already thought I was?I just... needed to see her. Even if it was just for a second. Even if it tore me apart.But she didn't want to see me. Didn't want to hear whatever pathetic excuse I might've offered. And for once in my life, I couldn't even blame her.Now I'm standing outside the bus, hands shoved deep into my pockets, tension burning through every muscle. Brandon waits beside me, cracking jokes that don't register while the others file in. My eyes are scanning, searching, and when they finally land on her—My br
PLEASE NOTE SOME PARTS IN THIS CHAPTER MAY BE SENSITIVE TO SOME READERS, PROCEED CAUTIOUSLY.Raelynn.I don't cry.Not for boys. Not for bullies. Not for assholes who treat me like a mistake one second and kiss me like I'm their entire world the next.And yet, here I am. Curled under my blanket like a wounded animal, the eye mask slipping down my tear-stained face as I bury my cheek into the pillow, trying to muffle the pathetic sounds of my own breathing.What is wrong with me? I didn't even shed a tear when I found out Peter was cheating. But this—this feels like my chest is caving in. My throat burns like I've been screaming. My eyes sting like hell.Why does it hurt this much? Why does he hurt this much?I clench the sheets until my knuckles go white, squeezing my eyes shut like it'll stop the tears from falling. It doesn't work. Nothing works.Footsteps echo in the hallway, and I instinctively turn toward the wall, adjusting the eye mask over my swollen eyes. Maybe if I pretend t
Grayson.My knuckles are bleeding from how much I've hit the wall, but for some reason, I don't feel the pain in my hand. It's in my chest instead. Suffocating and relentless. Like something vital is being crushed with every breath.Running a hand through my hair, I head down the stairs, not sure where the hell my legs are taking me. The memory of her teary eyes won't leave me alone—they're burned behind my eyelids , haunting every blink. I hate it. I hate that it's my fault she looked like she was two seconds away from shattering completely.But that was the goal, right?I knew what I was saying. I knew exactly how cruel each word would sound, how deep they'd cut. I wanted to hurt her. I wanted her to believe the only thing she should feel for me was pure, unfiltered hate. And judging by the way she left—throwing my watch at me like it burned her skin, storming out like I'd driven a knife straight through her chest—I succeeded.So why the fuck do I feel like I've destroyed the only t
Raelynn.He pulls away like my lips burned him.I blink, stunned, my back still pressed against the bookshelf. My breath comes in shallow gasps, heart hammering against my ribs. He won't even look at me. His jaw locks tight, and that wall—his damn impenetrable wall—slams back into place so hard I swear I can hear it."We shouldn't have done that," he mutters, voice arctic cold. His hand scrubs through his hair as he turns away from me.My stomach plummets."Why?" The word comes out smaller than I want it to.When he finally turns back, his eyes are glacial. Distant. This is the version of Grayson I despise—the one who makes me feel like I'm drowning.He starts pacing like a caged animal, both hands now tugging at his hair so violently I'm afraid he'll rip it out. I hold my breath, watching him wage some internal war I'm not allowed to understand.I get it, okay? One moment we're tangled together, breathless and reckless, not caring that someone could walk in. The next we're kissing in
Chapter Sixty-TwoGrayson.She gasps when I lift her effortlessly turning her around and bend her over the wide window ledge, palms flat on the glass, her bare chest pressed to the cool surface.Outside, although it’s night the streetlights are bright and the game is still going on people moving about.I step back to admire her.Fuck.She looks like a goddamn painting.Hair messy, skin flushed, back arched like a dream. Her legs tremble slightly, and her core glistens with everything we’ve done already. She's still dripping for me.I run my fingers up her thighs, parting them wider.“I want you to see what I do to you,” I mutter, positioning myself behind her, my tip brushing her folds. She whines, hips pressing back into me.I thrust in hard, and she cries out, the sound bouncing off the glass.My fingers dig into her hips. “You’re gonna take it, Sunshine,” I growl low into her ear, “every last inch of me.”She nods, barely able to form words, already trembling. Each stroke drags ano
Grayson.I raise her up, positioning half her ass against the cold edge of the window frame. How fucking perfect she looks like this. Her knees fall apart, spreading wide, baring herself to me like a goddamn offering.And I take it.I kneel between her legs, eyes locked on hers. Her breath hitches. Her thighs tremble. And still—still—she opens wider for me.A dark grin breaks across my lips as I press a kiss to the inside of her thigh, slow and wet. She gasps, fingers twisting into the ropes above her, and I drag my lips higher… then higher… until I’m breathing against the heat of her cunt.A few days ago, she was my little virgin. Shy, nervous and fidgety. And now… Now she’s dripping for me. Now she’s sitting on a fucking window ledge, bound and breathless, begging without words.Her panties are soaked through, clinging to her like sin. I inhale slowly, burying my face between her thighs, letting her scent flood every inch of me. Sweet and addictive. Like fucking home.“Grayson,” she