Theirs to Possess And Ruin

Little Mouse

Evelyn

“What are you doing, Zane?” I ask, trembling as his other hand finds the hem of my dress and starts pulling it up slowly. “What are you going to do?”

“Confirming my suspicion.” His voice drops low, quiet enough that it’s only for me, and somehow that’s worse than if he’d shouted it.

My breath comes too fast, too shallow. I’m pinned between the locker and him, my wrists trapped above my head, and I can’t see a way out that doesn’t involve going through him.

Voices drift from somewhere near the locker room entrance.

“Anyone can walk in,” I say. “There are students around. They might get the wrong impression.”

“I don’t care.” He doesn’t even bother to look. “They can watch if they want.”

“Zane, please stop.”

His hand moves higher, trailing over my skin, and the sensation leaves me maddened, unraveling something in me I don’t want unraveled. My arousal betrays me, soaking through my panties, sticky against my inner thighs.

“You’re trembling. You like this, don’t you?”

There’s such raw lust in his voice that it jolts something deep inside me, something I haven’t felt before and definitely don’t want to feel now.

But he’s right. It feels good, the drag of his fingers along my inner thigh. How Mason almost kissed me.

“I think she’s a bad girl,” Mason adds. “Hiding behind these big dresses. She might know more than she looks.”

When Mason says *bad girl*, what he really means is slut. And that, I’m not. Have never been.

The truth is, I’m still a virgin. Never been kissed, never been touched. Mason almost took my first kiss just now, and I’m glad it didn’t happen, because looking at what they’re doing to me, he doesn’t deserve it.

“I’m not a bad girl.” I look up at him, and I know my eyes have to be huge, begging, and I hate myself for it.

“I think you are.” He grins. “It’s exactly why your body’s arching into me right now. You want us. Admit it.”

I realize then that my breasts are pressed against his muscled chest, and without thinking, I’ve arched into him, craving more on pure instinct.

“Ask nicely, and maybe I’ll touch you properly.”

“No. I don’t want either of you.”

I lie, because I’m not going to give them a reason to believe otherwise. Not when all they’ve done since I moved into the Kensington estate is make my life hell.

My father was their gardener, had been for over fifteen years, one of the oldest and most trusted members of the household staff, before he passed. When Mr. Eric Kensington offered me a scholarship, it was framed as compensation, a quiet way of making up for what my father’s death had cost me. He gave me a room in the main house too, until I graduated.

I’d known the three of them since I was twelve, back when I used to trail after my father through the gardens, hiding behind hedges to watch them from a distance. I’d loved them quietly, the way you love things you’re not supposed to have.

Moving in hadn’t changed how they saw me. If anything, it had made it worse. To them I was just another one of their father’s charity cases, an inconvenience with a room down the hall, and they’d made it their mission to remind me of that every single day.

“So you’re a virgin, then.” Zane’s fingers stop right at the leg opening of my panties, at the inner curve of my thigh, his eyes searching mine. “I’d like to find out.”

“Let me go!”

I don’t think, don’t plan it. My knee moves on its own, driving up hard between his legs with everything I have.

He doubles over instantly, releasing my wrists as a strangled groan tears out of him, his hands flying to where I hit him. For one dizzying second, I feel something like triumph.

It doesn’t last.

“You’re dead,” he chokes out, still bent over, but his voice is low enough, certain enough, that ice shoots straight through me.

“The f**k is wrong with you, b***h?” Mason charges at me, arms reaching to grab me, but I’m already hauling the door open, slamming it shut behind me, and bolting down the hallway.

I make it barely ten feet before I see Freya, my best friend, talking with Kael, her boyfriend.

“Whoa. Slow down. What happened?”

I don’t stop moving. My chest is heaving, my lungs working like I’ve sprinted a mile instead of ten feet, and every breath tastes like panic.

“Nothing happened,” I say, too fast. “I just dropped off the gear I cleaned for the guys. I need to get to class.”

Freya’s eyes narrow, tracking my face. “You’re flushed.”

“I ran here.” Not a lie. Just not the whole truth. “Hi, Kael.”

“Hey.” He gives me his usual easy nod, the one that never asks questions, and for once I’m grateful for it.

“Come on, Freya. We have ten minutes.” I’m already pulling her by the wrist. “You do not want to end up in Professor Hawthorne’s bad books.”

“Fine, fine.” She glances back at Kael. “Babe, see you after class.”

I’m cooked. I just kicked Zane Kensington in the balls, and he’s probably going to kill me later.