Things I Wanted To Say (Lancaster Prep Book 1)

OF COURSE, I agree to leave. I’m so caught up in him, there’s no way the word no could pass my lips. I follow after him as we go in search of a door. We stumble upon Sylvie, who’s cozied up next to Spence on an oversized chair, her legs draped over his, his hand low on her back, almost on her butt.

He shifts his hand upward when he spots us.

Whit stiffens and comes to a stop, watching them carefully. “Bring my sister home, will you?”

“Of course.” Spence nods.

Sylvie smiles and stretches like a cat, blatantly rubbing her body against Spencer’s. “Where are you two off to?”

“I’m going to fuck Summer in the back of the car, Syl, and we were hoping for a little privacy,” Whit answers, his tone completely serious.

Sylvie laughs. “So naughty.”

I say nothing. I just let Whit escort me through the house. Outside. To the car. He pulls me into the back seat, so violently, I crash into him and he pins me beneath his big body, his face in mine.

“I’ve already fucked you in the car,” he murmurs as he runs his mouth down the length of my neck. “And what I have in mind can’t happen back here.”

Anticipation races through my veins, leaving me hot. Curious. “What do you want to do to me?”

“Claim you in the one place I haven’t yet.” He lifts away from my neck so he can kiss me, his tongue doing a thorough search of my mouth and leaving me a gasping mess when he finishes. “Or does the thought of me taking your ass scare you?”

My pussy clenches with need. He can have me any way he wants me. “I want it.”

He grins, looking pleased. “Oh, you’re going to get it.”

As usual, his words are a threat. A promise. I sigh when he kisses me again. His lips are languid. As if we have all the time in the world. I drown in his taste. In the way he has me pinned to the seat, my thighs spread and his hips nestle between them. He shifts down, his knees falling to the floorboard with a soft thump; his hands move down my sides, slowly shoving my dress up, up.

Exposing me completely.

“Sit up,” he commands and I shift my body so I’m half-propped up against the seat, my entire lower body completely exposed. He never takes his gaze from mine as he lowers his face to my pussy, his tongue darting out for a lick.

I feel that flick of his tongue all the way down to my soul.

My thighs tremble, my ass is perched on the edge of the seat as he thoroughly destroys me with his tongue. He licks and searches. Sucks my clit between his lips. Slides his finger inside me, thrusting in and out.

It feels so good. Too good.

He slips his hand beneath my ass, holding me to him. “Grind on me,” he says. “You know you want to.”

Oh fuck.

I do.

Bracing my feet on the floor, I tilt my hips and rub against his face shamelessly, the friction of the stubble on his chin driving me out of my mind with pleasure. He eats my pussy as if he’s ravenous. Like he can’t get enough of me and I spear my fingers into his hair, holding him to me.

Using him.

Getting off on his beautiful, exquisite face.

He removes his finger from my pussy, reaching behind me to tease at my asshole. He strokes me there, featherlight touches that have me moaning. Clenching. Releasing. He doesn’t let up. His mouth and his finger are tormenters, pushing me further. He presses harder, his touch persistent, his eyes on mine as he laps at me and when I feel his finger break past the barrier, my entire body begins to spasm.

I whisper his name, my breathing frantic, the orgasm washing over me in wave after wave. Such a cliché, but god I feel like I’ve been flung out to sea as the unbearable pleasure shimmers over me. Again and again. Until I’m desperately trying to push him away from me. It’s too intense.

Too much.

But he won’t let go. His mouth softens. Slows. His finger is still in my ass as he licks delicately at my sensitive flesh. Teases my clit. Circles it. Again and again as his finger pushes deeper, before it starts to move.

“Fuck,” I bite out as another, less intense but still overwhelming, orgasm pulses through me. I toss my head back, my entire body shaking as I ride it out against Whit’s face. Tears leak from the corners of my eyes when I finally slump onto the seat and he shifts away from me.

He watches me carefully, rubbing the inside of his arm against his mouth. “I could watch you do that all night.”

“I’d probably end up dead if you kept making me come like that,” I admit, my throat scratchy.

“No better way to go, am I right?” His devilish grin lights me up inside and I nod in agreement.

This is what he does to me, I realize as we pull through the ominous gates of the Lancaster estate. He renders me helpless. He leaves me spent. Tingling with the anticipation for what’s to come. I’m not scared at the possibility of him fucking me in the ass for the first time.

I’m more frightened of the day that comes when he’s no longer interested in me anymore.

“Are you being so sweet to me because you want anal?”

He chuckles, his chest rumbling against my back, and I can’t help but smile. “Maybe.”

We’re in his bathroom, sharing his giant soaking tub that’s filled nearly to the brim with hot water, thin tendrils of steam floating from the surface. There’s a fireplace nearby, the crackling sounds of the fire filling the quiet room. The only other sound is the lapping of the water against our skin when we move.

I could sit like this forever. Cradled in Whit’s arms, nestled against his body, the hot water surrounding us. I feel loved. Cherished. Even though I know it’s a crock and he doesn’t really feel that way about me.

It doesn’t matter. I can pretend. At least for one night.

“Would you ever let me touch you there?” I realize it’s a lot easier to ask him this question since we’re not facing each other.

“I don’t want you ramming a dildo in my ass, but I wouldn’t mind a finger. Just to try it out,” he says conversationally.

A giggle escapes me and he presses his hand against my mouth, silencing me. “I’m serious, Savage. No dildos.”

“I don’t even own a dildo,” I say, my voice muffled against his fingers.

He slips a finger inside my mouth and I flick my tongue against it. “Who needs a dildo when you have this?” He thrusts his hips against me, his erect cock nudging my backside.

Whit is playful tonight. Possessive. Almost…sweet? I don’t understand his mood. But I’m not fighting it either. I wish he could always be like this.

But then again, I’d miss the dirty, dark Whit if he never showed that side again. The menacing tone and cruel words. They arouse me too.

Everything he does arouses me.

I suck his finger like it’s his dick. Drawing it deeper into my mouth, circling my tongue around it before I suck on it hard. His other hand comes around me to grasp at my breast, his fingers toying with my nipple, his breaths accelerating.

“Do you really consider me your toy?” I ask once he pulls his finger from my mouth.

He’s quiet for a moment, as if he has to consider his words and how to use them. He could be cruel or he could be kind. Is that half the thrill, never knowing what I’m going to get from him?

Yes. I think it is.

“You’re more than that,” he finally says. Both of his hands are on my breasts now. Kneading them. Squeezing them, rubbing his fingertips over my nipples, featherlight. Making everything inside of me ache for more.

I close my eyes, relaxing against him. “And you don’t like to share?”

His hands stop moving. “I never share.”

The firm tone of his voice tells me there’s no arguing that point. As if I would.

“Not even with another boy?” I only ask to provoke him.

“Definitely not with another boy,” he says, resuming his exploration of my chest again.

“How about another girl?”

His hands pause. “You go that way?”

I shrug. “I’ve watched girl on girl porn. It’s a turn-on, I can admit that. A woman is more…delicate.”

“I can be delicate.”

I laugh. Loudly. “No, you cannot.”

“I wasn’t delicate earlier?” He pushes my wet hair away from my neck with his face to nuzzle me there. “In the car?”

“Delicate torture,” I whisper, tilting my head back as he kisses me there, just under my jaw. “You’re relentless.”

“You like it.”

“Maybe we have sex too much,” I say, my voice small.

“I think we’re perfectly normal.”

Another laugh escapes me and he presses his hand over my lips again.

“Normal is probably the wrong word.” He licks my neck, running his tongue down the length of it. “We fit, Savage. You and me.”

“We’re a mess,” I murmur beneath his hand. He tightens his fingers around my mouth, making it hard to breathe. “Whit.”

He slides his hand from my face downward, until his fingers are clamped around my throat, his thumb pressing. Reminding me of his strength. The hold he has over me, physically and emotionally. “Haven’t done this in a while.”

My heart races in fear. Anticipation. I shift my body, the water sloshing over the sides of the tub. “Don’t hurt me.”

“I would never. I only hurt you when I know you like it.” The tightening is subtle. He doesn’t move fast. His fingers exert the slightest amount of pressure, but I know he could do more. “And I think you like this.”

I keep my eyes closed, concentrating on my thumping heart, the sensation of his body behind mine, surrounding me. His other hand drops from my breast to move between my legs, cupping me there for only a moment before he slides his fingers into my folds, his touch rough. Thrilling.

A claiming.

“Did you see how everyone was looking at you tonight? When you were with Monty?”

I nod, my eyes popping open. I stare at the fire, the flames dancing high, the wood cracking and splitting from the intense heat.

“You looked like a fucking queen,” he murmurs, his voice full of pride. “That’s why I claimed you, Savage. I didn’t want anyone else taking what was mine. My queen. You belong to me.”

His possessive words send a ribbon of heat twisting through my body. “What about Monty?”

His deep chuckle sounds in my ear. “He’s not a threat. I can trust him with you.”

“Because he likes boys?”

“Even if he was straight, he wouldn’t touch you. Not once he found out who you belong to.”

“I’m not an object, Whit. I’m a person. You can’t just claim me,” I say, deciding to stand up for myself a little bit. Even though his possession is a heady thing.

No one’s ever publicly claimed me before—at least, no boy ever has. I’m usually a dirty little secret. Even Whit hid me away, though I wanted to keep what we were doing under wraps as well.

Not anymore. Everybody who was anybody in that room tonight knows I’m with Whit Lancaster. And I can’t seem to muster up the energy to care.

“Mmm, that’s where you’re wrong.” He nuzzles my face with his nose. Presses his thumb firmly against my clit as he tightens his fingers around my throat even more. “You’ve already been claimed. I’ve possessed you in just about every way I can.”

His hand works my pussy, his arm stirring the water, making it slosh in the tub, spilling over the top and all over the floor. I spread my legs wider, as wide as they can go in the narrow tub, wanting more. Wanting his fingers inside me.

Wanting him inside me.

“I’ve owned you since you were fourteen,” he whispers, his voice dark. Stirring up all the dark things buried deep inside of me. “You’ve been in my head ever since that night, you know. Haunting me. No one else could ever measure up.”

My heart goes still at his confession, all the breath in my lungs drying up. “What?” I gasp out.

He doesn’t even hesitate in his confession. “It’s true. I saw it in you that night. Your soul matched mine,” he admits as he lets go of my throat. “Move forward.”

I lean away from him, glancing over my shoulder to send him a questioning look. “I don’t understand.”

“Grasp the edge of the tub.” He gives me a gentle shove and I fall forward, my hands clasping the curved marble edge. In one swift move he rises up and slides his cock inside me, our positioning aiding in him filling me extra deep. A groan leaves me the moment he’s fully-seated inside my body and we remain like that for a moment, the water churning, our bodies connected yet completely still. Him rising above me, commanding me, taking complete control over me.

My breaths leave me in short gasps, excitement fizzing in my veins as I wait for him to say something, to do anything.

“Sometimes I would think you weren’t real. You couldn’t be that perfect,” he says as he slowly starts to move, pulling himself almost completely out of my body before pushing back in. “But you are real. It’s as if you were made for me.”

I feel the same way about him. As if he were made for only me.

There’s a loud popping noise and then the gurgle of the drain. He somehow released the plug, and the water is slowly lowering in the tub. He rests his hands on my hips, positioning me carefully before he removes one hand to drift his fingers down the crack of my ass. Up and down, his pace slow and steady, lingering over the place he wants me the most.

“With you positioned like this, you’re so open to me.” He slowly slips his finger into my ass with ease, and I suck in a breath, my muscles tensing. “Relax.”

I try to, but this is the farthest he’s gotten since he started trying, and I feel so full. His cock inside of me, plus his finger. It’s too much.

It’s not enough.

“Your skin is glistening right now,” he says, almost to himself. “All wet and smooth. God, look at you.”

Turning my head, I study him from over my shoulder, and his molten gaze meets mine. His eyes are so dark. Like a storm. His mouth is red, his cheeks ruddy and he smiles, thrusting his hips upward at the same time.

Hitting a spot deep inside of me that has me seeing stars.

I face forward once again, gripping the edge of the tub with all my might, the water slowly lowering. Exposing me completely. I must look a sight, but I don’t care. All I can focus on is the friction of Whit’s cock as he slides in and out of my pussy. His finger soon following the same rhythm in my ass. I move against him, my knees slipping against the slick marble, my fingers cramping from how tight I cling to the tub’s edge.

Whit fucks me hard, his grunts filling the room, our wet skin slapping together in rhythm. With my knees spread, his finger sinks deeper and I bite out a moan as I arch against him.

A string of curses leaves Whit’s mouth, every single one of them filthy. My entire body is on fire, muscles taut with expectation, waiting for that delicious climax that hovers just on the edge.

And then he’s gone. He pulls out of my body, both his cock and his finger, and I watch in shock as he hurriedly climbs out of the tub and goes to stand in front of me. Somewhere along the way, he found a towel and he holds it out toward me. “Come on. Get out.”

I step out of the tub, nearly tripping since my body is so weak. Thank God he’s there to take my hand and guide me out.

My pussy aches. My asshole burns. And still, I go to him, letting him wrap me up in the giant, thick towel. He cuddles me close, his hands roaming all over my body, rubbing the towel against my skin and drying me. He presses his mouth to my forehead, the gesture so sweet, so unexpected, I almost want to cry.

He’s a contradiction tonight. One I don’t understand.

“Let’s go to the bedroom,” he suggests once he’s removed the towel from my body. I can only nod my reply, sleepiness threatening to take over. His taking care of me felt so good. It was just what I needed.

Whit grabs my hand, interlacing our fingers as he leads me out of the bathroom and toward his massive bed. There’s another fireplace, the fire roaring, the flames licking high and I watch them, trembling when Whit comes behind me and wraps his arms around my waist.

“Get on the bed,” he says, his voice low. Commanding. “On your hands and knees. Let me look at you.”

I do as he says in a trance. Lost to the moment. The magic of the night. He goes to the bedside table and pulls open the drawer, revealing a bottle of lube.

My mouth goes dry as I watch him pop the cap and squeeze clear droplets onto his fingers. He rubs them together, the sticky liquid stringing between his fingers as he spreads them wide.

He moves behind me, his fingers delving between my cheeks without hesitation, stroking me there. His touch is achingly gentle and I close my eyes, willing myself to relax. Telling myself that it’ll feel good.

That I can trust him.

“Spread your legs wider,” he encourages and when I do as he commands, a groan leaves him. “God, I can see everything.”

He strokes. Teases. His fingers press. Deep. Deeper. Until he slips just the tip of his index finger into my ass, leaving it there. “Does that hurt?”

“No,” I whisper.

He plays with my ass for what feels like hours. Gets one finger inside. Then two. At one point, he slides beneath my body and licks at my pussy, sucks my clit, making me come. Gets three fingers inside me by then. He sucks my clit again, his fingers sliding in and out of my body and I climax once more within seconds, my asshole clenching tightly around his fingers as I come on his face.

“That is what I want to feel around my dick,” he says, his voice strangled as he shifts his position so he’s behind me once more. I hear a lid pop open and I can tell he’s squirting out more lube. Slicking it onto his cock maybe?

A jolt moves through me when he covers my asshole with the cool liquid.

“Tell me to stop if it hurts,” he says, notching the head of his cock right at my ass. He sounds eager. Excited. “You’re already open to me.”

He rubs his cock against me, and I moan softly at the delicious sensation. Oh God, he feels so big. Bigger than three fingers. I don’t know if he’ll fit. I don’t know if I want him to fit.

But he’s persistent. And oh so patient. This is what he wants, so he’s going to take his time. He rubs and teases, pushing just the head of his cock inside me before withdrawing completely. My mouth goes dry as I wait for the inevitable invasion, but he takes it so slowly, he’s halfway in before I realize what he’s doing.

“Fuuuuuuuuuck.” He draws the word out into at least five syllables as he slowly pushes inside. I hang my head, breathing hard, my body, my mind in shock.

He’s in my ass. And oh God, when he starts to move?

It hurts. But it’s a pleasurable sting. He has trouble finding his rhythm at first, and I can only assume it’s because it’s such a snug fit. I try to remain in position, but my arms are tired and they start to shake. Whit pauses and bends over me, his voice rough as he says, “Lift up.”

“Wa-wait—what?” I glance back at him as he reaches forward, his hands finding mine as he effortlessly pulls my body into an upright position.

I thought for sure that might bend his dick at a weird angle, but if anything, it sends him deeper inside my body, easing some of the stinging pain. My back is plastered to his front and he reaches around me, his fingers finding my pussy and rubbing it in circles.

“Holy shit, Summer,” he says, his voice in agony. In pleasure. “You’re so fucking wet. And you feel so damn good.”

I can barely move. Can only take his punishment as he thrusts into me again and again as he holds me to him. His soft grunts fill the quiet room, the slap of our skin, my panting breaths. It’s too much. Not enough.

“Such a good girl,” he croons as he plays with me with his fingers, strumming my clit so hard I cry out in agony, the orgasm slamming into me, stealing my breath, my thoughts, my everything. I go completely still before my body is consumed with shudders, my asshole clenching tightly around his cock over and over.

He comes with a strangled shout. I think my orgasm surprised him, and made him come too. I feel the hot flood of liquid, so foreign in my asshole, and he pulls out quickly, his semen dripping out of me and all over the bed.

“Jesus. You are a sight.” He touches me. Scoops up his cum with his fingers and spreads it all around my ass. “Messy. Sexy. Fuck, I’m still hard.”

I collapse onto the mattress, rolling away from the wet spot, my entire body weak with exhaustion. “I can’t do anymore,” I whisper as I close my eyes and snuggle my face into the mattress. My bones are weary. My mind, blank.

He climbs off the bed and I can sense him watching me quietly. I don’t move. Don’t say a word and neither does he.

Minutes later I can hear him moving about the bathroom. The toilet flushing. The faucet running. And then he’s back, his body causing the mattress to dip as he reaches for me, his hands at my waist, tugging me close to him.

“I’m going to clean you up,” he murmurs, just before placing a warm, damp washcloth against my ass. He washes my body, cleaning every last bit of semen from me before rubbing me gently with a thick, dry towel. I lay there and take it without a word, like a baby who needs to be coddled and cared for.

He moves away from the bed again, no doubt getting rid of the washcloth and towel, and then he’s back. Wordless as he shifts me around and pulls the covers over my limp body before he climbs into the bed, joining me.

Holding my breath, I wait for him to touch me. Or to just say goodnight. His body is so still, I wonder if he’s even breathing.

“Did I hurt you?” he finally asks, his voice rough. A rasp in the air.

“No.”

Whit rolls over so he’s facing me. I can make out his beautiful face from the firelight. “Don’t lie to me, Summer.”

I much prefer it when he calls me by my first name. The moment becomes more charged. More intimate. “I’m not lying. I liked it. You made me come, didn’t you?”

“Still. I think I hurt you. No, I know I hurt you.” He reaches for me, pulling me into his arms so I’m pressed against his long, hard body. I nestle my head against his chest, savoring the sound of his steady heartbeat. “I’ve never done that before.”

“Done what?” I ask sleepily.

“Anal. You’re my first. The only girl I’ve ever wanted to be with like that.” He tightens his arms around me. “I didn’t want to fuck it up.”

His admission does something to me—makes me feel lighter than air. Floating. Weightless. I tip my head back, my lips pursed. Eager for his kiss. “You didn’t fuck it up.”

He kisses me, as if he knows I need it. Maybe he needs it too. “We should go to sleep.”

“Can I—”

“Stay,” he says, cutting me off. “Sleep with me.”

This is the second time we’ve done this. And it throws me. He throws me. I don’t know what’s happening between us. Why he’s being so agreeable. Thoughtful. It’s exhilarating.

It’s scary.

But I do realize one thing.

I’m completely defenseless. Weak to him and his wants. His needs. He knows it. He has complete command of me. Body and soul.

And it is a terrifying position to find myself in.