Good Girls Never Rise: A Dark Boarding School Romance - Page 71

Slowly, I placed my boots back onto the ground and peered up at him with a realness that I hadn’t shown a single person in this school. I was being completely and utterly transparent with him, even if it did make me feel inexperienced and frazzled. My blood hummed, my heart beating so hard I felt it in every crevice of my body.

He caught the eye of something or someone behind me, but it was fleeting. “You don’t know how to do what?” There was the tiniest pinch in between his eyebrows, a small show of confusion on his features.

Another bout of warmth washed over my body as the room grew tighter. Was the music off now? I was pretty sure the music was off. “Kiss,” I finally said, glancing to his lips as my chest caved in. “I don’t know how to kiss.”

His mouth opened almost instantly, those picture-perfect lips parting. His hands around my waist tightened, and his jaw locked. Then, his lips tipped, and his eyes grew hungry. “I thought so. I remember the look on your face when I asked the other night. But don’t worry,” he said as his hand came up and wrapped around the back of my head. “I’ll teach you.”

And then… And then he kissed me…and I was floating. I was floating just as high as the butterflies in my stomach, and I didn’t care if my feet never touched the ground again.

Isaiah kissed me gently at first, his lips firm but soft at the same time. His hand gripped my hair, and a strange noise left my mouth, and that was when my feet seemed to touch back to the ground, but only for a quick second, because as soon as I caught up to what my heart was doing in my chest, his tongue jolted out, and he licked the seam of my lips, and mine opened without even realizing it. And then...I began kissing him back.

It was a bittersweet feeling. I knew it was fake and that Isaiah was just kissing me like he’d kissed other girls, but it replaced every other time my lips had been touched.

This wasn't my first kiss, but it was the first kiss I’d ever wanted. And that meant something to me.

Isaiah’s growl vibrated my cheeks as his tongue swept against mine. His grip was death-like around my hip, and something new and hot pulled at my core. Before I could stop myself, my teeth nipped at his bottom lip, and if it weren’t for the lights suddenly going dark, I would have pulled back and apologized.

A voice that I’d heard before—Brantley?—flew through the room over the speakers. “I guess we can let that moment right there declare the time for claiming. I think we’re all ready now. Lights go back on in one hour. Remember the rules. Don’t touch people who don’t want claimed. And pick wisely.”

“Fuck, Gemma,” Isaiah murmured against my lips. “Fuck.” Then, his hand clasped with mine, our fingers intertwining instantly, and I was being pulled so fast I could hardly keep up. My eyes hadn’t adjusted to the room. Everything was dark, especially with it being underground, but panic didn’t creep in like usual.

In fact, the only thing I was thinking about was how my lips were tingling and how every inch of my body was on fire.

I wanted more. Something as forbidden as letting someone like Isaiah touch me and kiss me should have left me feeling tainted and fearful. After all, that was what had been pounded into my skull from a very, very young age. You are to remain untouched and pristine. Otherwise, you’ll end up just like your mother, with a corrupted mind and a twisted heart.

But after one brush of Isaiah’s lips over mine, he could have been the devil asking me to give up my soul, and I would have.

Isaiah just started something that I would make damn sure to finish. His lips made me feel unstoppable.

Richard said good girls didn’t break rules, but he could watch me break each and every one.

Chapter Thirty-Five

Isaiah

The lock on the door clicked, and everything intensified. The room was just as dark as the basement had been, but I knew my way around. My hands pushed Gemma’s tiny frame up against the back of the cool, concrete wall, and my knee pushed in between her bare legs.

The skirt. The fucking leather skirt. My fingers twitched to unzip it from behind, but I knew I was getting ahead of myself. In fact, this was going against the entire fucking plan.

Kiss her, claim her, bring her in a side room, and ride out the rest of the party letting everyone think you fucked her. That was the plan. Make everyone talk and draw their attention to her, because the more eyes on Gemma meant that Bain would be forced to take a step back. The students at this school were far more loyal to me than they were to him. If he even dared to step too close to her after everyone thought she was mine, they’d rat him out within seconds. Some would even interfere. He’d have more eyes on him than ever. I wasn’t confident that the plan would work to its fullest potential, but I had to do something. I had to deter him somehow, especially after finding the photos. This was a plan that was orchestrated by me and the rest of the Rebels. It was all we had at the moment because, unfortunately, Bain was untouchable, per my father’s recent orders.

A soft whimper echoed against the stone walls, and I was suddenly brought back to the present. Gemma and I were both still heaving at a complete standstill with our sudden lack of oxygen. My hands touched her soft, warm skin, and my dick was as hard as a rock as it pushed up against her belly. So badly did I want to hitch her legs around my hips and grind myself onto her warmth.

I wondered if she was wet. I wondered what she’d do if I crept my hands up her thighs and pushed a finger into her tight pussy. Would she let me?

Just as I had the thought come through, Gemma jumped up, and her legs were around my waist as if she had read my mind. My head spun, and blood rushed. Jesus. Gemma said she didn’t know how to kiss, but her tongue was back to being tied with mine, and sexy-ass noises were coming out of her mouth, and it was making me lose control.

I never lost control.

But fuck me, Good Girl was wrapping her tiny little hands around my body—and Christ, maybe even my soul—and making them her own.

The strangest pull in my stomach had me faltering for a second.

Fuck. I’d never felt like this. I didn’t know what to do with it.

I pulled my mouth from hers, sucking in a chestful of air.

“What the fuck,” I said through choppy breaths. Gemma’s small frame wiggled in my arms, her warmth radiating to my jeans, and I threw my head back, letting out a ragged breath.

Tags: S.J. Sylvis Romance
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