Stalked by my Professor Novel

Chapter 15 I gently turn Haven over, my ears ringing. But not loud enough to drown out her desperate, whispered, "Kai, please. Don't do this." Every word stabs into me like a fucking knife. But I do what Rooke says, because he's holding a fucking gun on us and I⁠- would have done it anyway -don't have a choice. And because some sick part of me wants to see how far I'll go before I completely lose myself. I don't know how the hell to handle coke. I've never done it in my life. But the baggie's small enough that when I tap it lightly with my finger, only a little sprinkles out.

Haven shivers like she can feel those tiny crumbs touching her skin. Maybe she can. My body is electrified. Raw. Pulsing. Desperate. "Good." Rooke says, and it's my turn to shiver when he moves the muzzle to my temple. "Go ahead." "I don't want-" I cut off when he presses the muzzle harder against me. I've handled enough guns in my life that I know the safety's off. And with his finger curled around the trigger, all it will take is a loud noise to startle him, and I'm fucking dead. Haven covered in my blood and brain matter.

The only thing worse than dying would be leaving her alone with him, and we both know it. I drop my head, close a nostril, and snort up one of the lines. Haven whimpers, but holds still. She's still wearing the blindfold, but my girl's clever enough to know there's some serious shit going down behind her. Above her. Beside her. Jesus. Mother. Fucking. Christ. What. The. Fuck. Is. This. Shit. I struggle desperately past the searing numbness to find conscious thought, conscious movement. Falling back. Holding onto the sheets like the bed is a surfboard and I'm riding a fucking tsunami.

All the pain, all the worry, all the emotions are gone in a flash. Fuck. I've never been this clear on anything in my life. It's like my brain is finally firing on all synapses. How the fuck can I be questioning a single thing about tonight? I'm alive. I'm in it. And everything's fucking fantastic. Discover more novels at Fɪnd-Novel.net "Kai?" Haven whispers. "Are you okay?" "He's just fine, sweetheart," Rooke mutters as he drops his head and snorts up the other line. He picks up the baggie I left beside Haven's hip and taps out the last of it, two more lines, one on each cheek.

"Stop moving, girl." His voice twangs, and the bed bobs like we've just gone over a huge swell of water. Oh, fuck. The molly's back. Lucifer, buddy, you'd better take the fucking wheel, 'cos I'm rolling again. "Another, boy." Rooke grabs my hair, forces my head down. I snort up a second line like a dog learning tricks, and fuck I hate how good it feels to make him proud when he murmurs, "There's my good boy." Rooke follows suit, and then I hear the safety click off, the thump-clatter as he tosses his revolver back into his nightstand and slams the drawer shut.

Haven jerks at the sound, starts crying softly. I fall onto my side, drag myself closer to her. "Shh, shh," I whisper, smoothing hair away from her face. "It's okay. You're okay." A fucking lie, of course. Nothing will ever be okay after tonight. She whimpers when I push the blindfold up, blinking at me with big, beautiful blue eyes as she searches my face. "What's wrong with you?" she murmurs. "Nothing," I whisper, darting forward to kiss her. "Absolutely fucking nothing. I'm good. You're good. Everything's okay." I plant tiny kisses over her lips, and soon she's kissing me back.

Then she moans. Then she lets out a sob that could have been either pleasure or pain. And when I look back, Rooke's got his dick in one hand, a bottle of lube in the other. His attention solely focused on Haven. "Kai!" Tears trickle out of her eyes. "I'm sorry." I stroke her face, the small of her back, her ass. Rooke grabs my wrist and forces me lower, until I'm stroking her lubed up pussy. He manipulates my fingers, forcing them inside her, and Haven's eyelashes flutter as she fights to stay lucid, as she fights for the control she lost a long, long time ago.

"Sorry about what?" I whisper, kissing her again before she can answer. "Nothing to be sorry about. You're doing so good. So fucking good." I finger her, deep but slow, drawing back to see her face, to see if she likes it. She frowns at me, mouth opening, groaning. "Sorry about-" she winces "-the maple tree." The last is barely a whisper. "Sorry I made you do that. Should have never⁠-" I kiss her again. Draw back. "I'm glad you did, Heavenly. It's the only real thing that's ever fucking happened between us." Her brow furrows, tears gleaming in her eyes.

"What?" I roll my head side to side, grinning. "What you should be sorry about is the gang bang." Her confused eyes flicker over my face, like the perfect little actress. "What are you talking about?" I laugh, and I swear to hell, I sound just like Rooke's crazy ass. "Oh, fuck, Miss H. I keep forgetting what a fucking whore you are. Probably forgot about it already." I drag my fingers out of her and slap her ass so hard she yelps in pain. "I'm betting your slutty, stretched out pussy can take both of us." I push up, ignoring the way her horrified face tugs at my heartstrings.

I'm done letting her play with my heart like a fucking marionette doll. Now's the time for some fucking. Something's finally happening with my dick, and Jesus, it's past time. As I get to my knees, Rooke grabs my arm and pulls me toward him. I stumble, a hand on Haven's plump cheek to keep my balance. He's fingering her asshole with his thumb. Gone are his sweatpants. His cock bobs thick and heavy in his lap, hard as a fucking rock. And as if desperate to prove itself, my cock twitches. "Gang bang, huh?" Rooke says, mouth curled into a bemused smile.

"Were you there?" I flick hair out of my eyes with a snap of my neck, force my eyes back to Haven, pushing two fingers into her pussy and fucking her hard enough to make her gasp into the pillow. "No. But my brother was. Entire football team, too." Now she's crying. Big, heaving, wretched sobs that wrack her body. "And you weren't invited?" Bastian murmurs. I shove my sweat pants down, stare at my cock as I grab it in a hand and start stroking. It's barely a semi. I pick up the lube and squirt some over, stalling, acting like I know what the fuck I'm doing.

"She was done with me by then." Rooke puts his hand over mine, the one I'm using to get my dick hard enough so I can fuck Haven. I stop, my breath catching in my throat. He's not touching me, not really, but it doesn't matter anymore. I haven't just crossed a line here tonight-I've snorted two off Haven's ass with her fucking professor. Pretty sure I'm going to hell anyway. Might as well enjoy the ride down. He drags his hand down, forcing me to give my own cock a slow, hard stroke that's pure fucking ecstasy. "He's lying..." His lips brush my ear.

Another slow stroke, and fuck, how am I turned on right now? It's gotta be the coke, right? I'm not gay. Never in my fucking life have I looked at a guy and thought of fucking him. Then again...I've never looked at another girl except Haven and thought that either. Didn't stop me trying to get laid, despite Haven calling me a loser inside my own head. "What are you doing?" The words tremble out of my mouth. "Your brother's lying," Rooke says, his sinister words followed by another slow pump of my cock. He brushes his lips against my temple. Over the top of my cheekbone. The edge of my jaw.

Every touch synced with a hard stroke on my slowly hardening, slowly growing cock. "This girl's as innocent as you are," he says, his breath on my lips. I don't know when I closed my eyes, but when they pop open, I lean back so I can stare him right in the fucking eyes. "Ezra's bisexual, Kai." Rooke drags both our hands off my dick, and then slowly, so fucking nefariously, wraps his fingers around my shaft. I grab him, but for some fucked up reason, I don't try to pull him off me. "That's bullshit." I spit the words out, but they're barely a whisper.

I search his face for confirmation, but I don't find it. "Think all he did as my T.A. was staple some copies for me?" He shakes his head and starts working my dick like he knows it better than I do. And I'm struggling to keep my eyes open, struggling to keep myself in check, struggling to understand what he's telling me and why this feels so fucking good. "We fucked for months." His mouth is by my ear again. And he licks me there, slow and soft, leaving an aching trail in his wake. "You're. Lying!" It's not possible. Ezra's only ever dated girls. Not many, but enough that I know he's not gay.

My breath catches, and it sounds like a sob, because Jesus, it feels like I'm going to come, but I'm not getting there, it's just hovering out of reach, building until I'm ready to explode. "He showed me his scars," Rooke whispers. "Told me who gave them to him. How it fucked him up so bad, he begged for more." Suddenly everything about my childhood makes perfect, horrible sense, like our professor just drew back a curtain. The way Ezra slowly changed. Like he'd accepted his fate as Dad's punching bag. Is that why he started hitting me? Did he want me to fight back?

Does my brother love pain that much? I've never liked Rooke, but now I fucking hate him for showing me what was behind the veil.