Moonveil Academy: Trapped With The Five Kings

Elara:

Nothing could have prepared me for the kiss. Because how could I have ever known that the man who was supposed to humiliate me in front of the entire class would suddenly do something no one expected.

I was too taken aback that I failed to even react on time. And that was probably the biggest mistake I made.

His one hand found its way in my hair before he tilted my head to deepen the kiss. At the same time, his other hand once again found the hem of my uniform skirt. His fingertips slipped under the fabric and drew up the inside of my thigh, slow and deliberate, like he had all the time in the world and every right to use it.

I wanted to push him away.

My hands went to his chest to do exactly that - to shove, to break contact, to make him stop. But the push died somewhere between my elbow and my palm. My fingers curled into the fabric of his blazer instead. Not pushing, but holding.

I wasn’t kissing him back. My lips stayed still under his, and I told myself that stillness meant I was still fighting. But I wasn’t pushing, and my eyes were closed, and when his tongue slipped past my lips I couldn’t even recall parting, something in my chest came loose.

He smelled like cedar, rain, and something exceptionally him. And a part of me pointed out how he had no right to smell like that.

Wrong, I thought. This is wrong.

But it didn’t matter. Everything felt too good. Too right, in a way that should have terrified me - the fit of his mouth, the fingers tracing my inner thigh, the way my body seemed to know his before my brain had caught up, like some part of me had been waiting for him without asking my permission.

I tried to hold onto the hate. I listed the reasons one by one, or at least tried to. But the list crumbled as his tongue swept past mine. My body stopped listening to my brain somewhere in the second minute. And my brain, for all its reasons and grudges, was drowning.

The classroom was empty. I noticed it again, the way you notice a door ajar in a dream - the desks in their rows, the lantern lights soft and warm on the floorboards, no one else in sight. We were supposed to be in the middle of a practice. It was clearly day time... and where had everyone gone-

His hand closed on my thigh, and the thought scattered like ash.

He stepped between my legs, causing my skirt to bunch around my hips. That should have meant something. That should have been the alarm I needed, the crack in whatever this was. But his knee pressed against the inside of my thigh, and the crack sealed itself over.

His fingers found the cotton of my panties and pressed, and all the air went out of me at once.

His thumb started drawing slow circles, while he pulled back just enough to watch my face. And the look on his face dismissed whatever non-existent hold I had on reality. Because he’s looking at me he never had before.

His blue orbs held a softness I had never seen in them before. He was looked at me not like I was his enemy, but more like someone... important to him. And beneath all that was another emotion, one that had my heart skipping a beat.

Desire.

His fingers moved over my folds, and I realized I was already wet. My hands tightened on his blazer, my knuckles turning white. I hated how badly I needed the anchor of him while he did this to me.

His thumb rubbed over my clit through the damp cotton, and the sound I made came out before I could stop it - thin and broken.

He said something low in answer, some word I didn’t catch, and his voice went down my spine like a lit match.

This isn’t real.

The thought surfaced from somewhere deep, from the part of me still treading water.

This isn’t real, Elara. Snap out of it!

But I was so close. The pressure built like a tide behind my ribs, and I allowed it to override any other thought I had. That small voice in the back of my head kept telling me to snap out of it, while his thumb worked me toward the edge.

I could feel the seams of the spell, like a room I’d forgotten the door to. All I had to do was find the door. All I had to do was to accept none of this was real. And I chose the pleasure instead. I chose him. That was the part I would never forgive.

Before I could drove further into those thoughts, the orgasm hit. His fingers pressed harder through the fabric, and I came apart against his hand.

I arched off the desk and heard myself cry out his name in the empty room. I shook from the sheer pleasure while he held me up with a single arm that was now wrapped around my waist.

I opened my eyes to meet his... only for the real world snap back into place like a rubber band.

Sound flooded in. Students talking. Some were actually focusing on the task, while others were whispering about what kind of memory Reign was weaving in my head.

My eyes flew open the moment those words registered in my brain, reminding me exactly what was going on.

I was still in my seat, and Reign was right beside me. He was leaning back with his arms crossed and a small, patient, triumphant smile on his face. Like he had won something.

That was it.

Before I could think it through, I was on my feet. The next second, my hand came across his face - open palm, full force - and the crack of it cut through the silence like a gunshot.