Stalked by my Professor Novel

Chapter 6 This shit is messing with my head, big time. Seconds ago, I was in iPhone's Escalade, telling them to follow Rooke's car. I made them drop me off, because I had no fucking idea what I was walking into, and I didn't want them involved either way. Didn't take much convincing. They wanted to get back to the party, so they caved pretty quickly. Then Rooke was low-key accusing me of something, but I know Ezra's okay, because I tried to strangle that fucker once and he just walked it off. So why'd Rooke let me in? Why's he letting me shower, instead of calling the cops?

Unless he wanted me here, because this was always part of some sick game I don't understand. Never mind any of that shit, why the fuck is Haven here? If she needed a safe space, he could have taken her back to GAZ. What the fuck is this guy's agenda? And why does part of me want to stay, even when I know some fucked up shit's about to happen? Morbid curiosity, I guess. Now he's got me dressed in his-super freaking soft and fluffily delicious-clothes, and I don't know what the fuck I'm even doing with my life right now. My hand hurts like hell though.

"Come here, Kai." He's not wearing a shirt. Doesn't seem like he's in a rush to put one on, either. Dude's not buff, but he doesn't have to be. He's got that type of build that looks good with or without muscle. Lean, strong. But he seriously needs some sun on him, because he's way too pale. Maybe chicks dig that these days. Who the fuck knows? A flicker of intense heat radiates through my lower spine when I realize I'm staring, wondering. Fuck. You'd think I'm fucking into him, the way I'm⁠- Jesus, no. That's fucked up on about fifteen different levels.

I walk over to him, because it's easier than coming up with an excuse not to. If he wanted to hurt me, all he had to do was raise that gun and pull the fucking trigger. He moves fast once I'm in arm's reach. Too fucking fast, like he's expecting a fight. Guy doesn't seem to realize how hard I'm rolling right now. I couldn't resist him if I tried...and I'm not sure I even want to anymore. Rooke grabs the back of my neck, his muscles cording as he holds tight. Fuck. I can see his veins. Blue-green slashes running up his arm that pulse with power.

Then his finger is in my mouth, and it's bitter as fuck, and he's rubbing it over my gums before pulling out and staring at me with the weirdest fucking look I've ever seen on his face. Dude looks like he's waiting for my teeth to fall out. A tingling numbness spreads through my mouth, and I quickly cup my hands to catch my teeth because sure as shit, they're gonna fall out now that it's all dead inside. He releases me, gives me a little push on my chest. Tilts his head to the side. "That feel good?" Jesus, everything feels good.

His voice, his touch, the way he's looking at me like I'm something he wants to devour. I run my tongue over my gums to check all my teeth are still there. Well fuck me, not a single one fell out. "The fuck, dude?" He smiles like he's waiting to tell the punch line of a joke, and it's gonna be killer. "Do you love her?" he murmurs. I huff out a laugh. "What?" "The girl you came to rescue." He points to the living room. "The one who bit you so hard it bled. The one you strangled so hard it bruised." Rooke grasps the back of my neck again and drags me close. "Do. You. Love.

Her?" I know it's a trap, but I can't figure out what the right answer is when he's this close to me. When it looks like he's going to⁠- Fuck, is he going to kiss me? My body stiffens, my heart thundering inside my chest. Why the fuck don't I stop him? Because some sick part of me wants to know what it would feel like. What he would taste like. With our faces an inch apart, I'm treated to a sliver of something insane, something psychotic, something dark and depraved, flickering in his eyes. Cruelty. A cruelty that survives, that thrives, on crushing anything beautiful in the world.

But it can't crush what it doesn't know exists. And I refuse to let it crush us. So I lie, even though my heart is screaming the truth loud enough for him to hear. "No." The word puffs past trembling lips. "Good," he murmurs, his lips barely moving but still drawing my eyes. "That would have made things...complicated." As if this isn't already the most complicated shit I've ever walked into. There's alcohol on his breath, and my eyes dart to the bottle of bourbon beside his bed. Coke. Booze.

I should push him away and get the fuck out of this head trip of a house before shit goes down...because it's going down. Pent up frustration, violence, sex-it prickles in the air like static. I can see it in his eyes, how hooded they are. He wants something from me. Something I've never given to anyone. Something I'm not sure I even know how to give. I'm locked in place by my own treacherous muscles. My sadistic mind begging me to quench its curiosity because it wants to see what's gonna happen. It's why I approached Haven that first day I saw her in the woods.

She'd been alone, dancing and skipping through a small patch of wildflowers beneath a maple tree, in what soon became our favorite clearing. I'd never seen someone so happy. So carefree. Read full story at fιɴdnοvel.net It made me angry, how easy it was for her. Just like it makes me angry how easy this is for him. How effortlessly he's taking control of me. But then I came to know Haven better. I found out her life was a miserable suck-fest, and the version of herself that arrived at the woods each day was the one she climbed into to escape reality.

Bastian slides a hand onto my shoulder and pushes me down on the edge of the bed. Again, I don't resist. Again, curiosity wraps around me, binding me in place. To him. Curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back. I just hope I survive long enough to find out what that satisfaction feels like. "Stay here. I'll fetch Haven." My heart gives one hard thump in my chest, my only warning before I snatch hold of his wrist, halting him mid-step. "Don't hurt her." I push through clenching teeth. Fuck, will I start rolling again from that tiny hit of coke he rubbed on my gums?

Or does it just feel that way? Rooke studies my face, spending so much time on my mouth that my lips tingle. "I won't, boy," he drawls. I flinch when he drags a knuckle over my jawline, again as creases appear at the corner of his dark eyes. "But you will." I bite back a groan as the promise sends a dark thrill through my body, straight to my cock. He's going to make me hurt her. To break her the way she broke me. How the fuck he can know how desperately I want it is beyond me. But I can't deny it. Not anymore. Haven's going to learn that running away from me has consequences.

She's going to learn that I've been gentle with her since she's been back, and that ends tonight.