Tiny Dark Deeds: A Dark High School Bully Romance (Court Legacy Book 3)
Tiny Dark Deeds: Chapter 46

Dorian

My ax blade split wood, pieces of lumber hitting the snow. Each grip of the ax killed my split knuckles, the impact worse, and I welcomed the pain.

She came from between the trees.

Sloane strode past two security agents, and I pretended not to notice. Instead, I tried to work feeling into my numb hands, my gloves bulky and making it hard to grip the ax. I had tossed them off what felt like forever ago, my hands just as numb as the rest of me. A hoodie and sweatpants wasn’t really fucking doing it out here, but I didn’t care.

I preferred being numb anyway.

Sloane’s smell ghosted on the wind when she approached, reminding me I wasn’t numb. Reminding me that I felt. I absolute hated that because I felt severed in half, her hands in her pockets when she stopped next to me. “Dorian?” Sᴇaʀch Thᴇ Findɴovel.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

Chop.

Wood hit the ground again, no words from my lips. Sloane’s gaze hit the heavens, a flush across her cheeks. She actually had her coat on, being smart. Her full lips pressed together. “Dorian, you’re being immature.”

Was I?

Chop.

I kicked the wood off to the side, and she laughed a little, dry. Her throat jumped. “You know what? You can be mad at me, but you can also use your words and tell me about it.”

She didn’t want me to fucking talk right now, my laughter dry.

“Instead, you’re out here pouting like a big baby and wearing no coat.” Her dark eyes peered over me, sounding like a straight-up mom.

Or a concerned girlfriend.

Chop.

I picked up the wood off the snow, stacking it. My parents’ cabin ate a lot of wood, more than one fireplace in there that needed it. I’d noticed the woodpile outside was looking thin after my run, and anything I could do outside of that cabin and away from Sloane I needed right fucking now. I didn’t want to say anything stupid and make shit worse. I was in my feelings. I was mad, and I wasn’t good at talking about shit. My therapist knew about that firsthand.

I noticed the agents’ eyes on us while I stacked, well aware they were watching over us. A couple had ended up going with me on my run and more had stayed with me after when I’d come back outside. They were just doing their job, and I knew they probably wouldn’t tell me to go inside, even though I’d been out here for probably too long.

Sloane studied me, not wearing enough clothes herself out here. She had on a pair of leggings that made me want to drop the ax and bend her over in front of me, shove those things to her ankles while I filled her with my cock. I’d been cold before she came over, but so much blood rushed to my dick now, I could probably split wood without the fucking ax.

Adjusting myself, I ignored it, fighting it. I didn’t want to do this shit with her. Hell, I didn’t even want to be fucking mad at her. Emotions were a son of a bitch, and I was never good at expressing them. I couldn’t tell her how hurt I was, angry. I didn’t have the right, and I fucking knew that, which made all this so much worse.

The shove came out of nowhere, and I dropped the wood I’d been stacking. Honest to fuck, I just hadn’t seen it coming, which was why she’d been able to do it.

Sloane stood there after she did, looking proud of herself even. She was amped up, pumping her lanky little arms. “Well, I’m not just going to let you, so if you’re mad, talk about it. I’m waiting.”

I blinked, more shocked than anything. The little fighter had actually pushed me, shoved me. Being the bigger man, I tempered my anger, but then she came at me again. I growled. “Noa…”

“He has words, everyone,” she announced to the few watching us. They eyed her like she was insane, and she was acting insane. She raised her arms to them. “Maybe he’ll actually talk to me now instead of acting like a big ole baby.”

Okay, that shit wasn’t fucking cool, and she ignited the rage inside me when she got up on the stump I’d been using to cut wood.

She put hands around her mouth. “Let’s see if he’ll actually—”

I got her by the hips, my favorite means of transportation for her. She squealed when I tossed her over my shoulder, the tactic always a bit caveman-ish, but I didn’t give a fuck.

Sloane kicked, of course, always fucking did. She started hitting me too, and all that did was get her ass hit. I gave her a sharp slap to her ass, those cheeks probably nice and rosy under those sexy-as-fuck leggings.

She was screaming by the time I took her to the shed, not far from the wood stump, and security let me. This argument was clearly just a bunch of bullshit between Sloane and me and the trivial crap of two people who couldn’t talk to each other right, but if it was, I wasn’t going to have it in front of an audience.

I put Sloane in the shed, but the hits only continued when we got there, and I closed the door behind us.

“See. This is what I’m talking about,” she cut, her face exploded in red color. She was a madwoman, her dark hair flinging around when she punched at my biceps and chest with her little fists. “You don’t talk. You just act like a complete dick, and you have no right to be mad at me. I did what I did to keep you safe. To keep you out of this.”

She was right that I had no right to be mad at her. Not after what she’d been through, and I didn’t want to be this way.

I just couldn’t stop the pain of it.

The hurt in full blast, I got one of her fists and pinned it to the wall. “You didn’t trust me. You went behind my back and didn’t fucking talk to me!”

The words out there, she froze, her throat working, mouth flushed, pink. I wanted to force her on her knees and fill it with my cock, punish her for not believing I could take care of her.

For not having faith.

“I should have been the first person you came to,” I said, pressing my body against hers. Our hearts slammed into each other, and I covered her throat with my hand, making her gasp. “So yeah, I’m fucking mad. Yeah, I’m fucking hurt. The girl I love doesn’t trust me to take care of her, and that shit hurts.”

The words were amplified around us, and I felt things going too far. Especially when I had both hands around her throat. I guided her mouth up, and soft breaths escaped her lips.

“You can’t believe that,” she gasped. She wet her lips. “You don’t believe that.”

But I did, and what else could I fucking believe? I shook my head. “You promised me you wouldn’t run, but you did. You left. You…”

She’d left me, and I couldn’t even with that shit. If she was going to leave, we should have left together.

Something in that moment had her emotional, a tear falling down her cheek. Numbness had obviously left my hands because my knuckles felt the heat of it when I dragged my good set of knuckles down her face. They came away wet, and I wasn’t thinking when I bit her mouth.

I just wanted to taste her.

I told myself that was the only thing it was, a taste. Our mouths sealed, though, and the euphoria became better than the numbness.

No more pain.

No more hurt.

Just us.

“Dorian,” she breathed out, her hands on my arms, her fists clenching my hoodie. She shoved at me when I went to her neck. “No, Dorian. We need to talk. Talk about what you just said and how you feel.”

I didn’t want to fucking talk. Talking just meant more of this back and forth, and I didn’t want to feel anymore.

Again, I felt this going too far, her heated breath just as persistent as her protests. She wanted to talk as much as she wanted the flicks of my tongue across her skin. Hell, she might have wanted to talk more. She wanted to help me, help us, but I was too busy escaping. I wanted her, and I didn’t want it on healthy terms. I wanted it raw, sick, and with me holding power over her.

“I want you on your knees,” I ground out, making her gasp. I flicked her tongue. “No talking.”

As if to emphasize, I filled her mouth with my own tongue, her pants surprised, heated. I kissed her until I felt no physical resistance, tasting her into submission. Her hands eased their grip on my arms, and I unzipped her coat, filling my hands with her tits through her shirt. We were in a shed that barely fit me, let alone both of us.

A moan touched my mouth, hers. I was hard as fucking steel, and I rocked against her. She held my hips. “Dorian—”

“I said no fucking talking,” I cut in, forcing her down to her knees. “Pull me out.”

I waited above her, mostly waiting for her to stop me. What I was doing was toxic shit right now, avoiding, but I didn’t care. I ignored the disappointment that flashed in her eyes when she undid my pants, like she was disappointed in me, and I lost it anyway when her focus shifted to other places. A chill hit when my dick touched the air, but then Sloane put her mouth on me.

I saw fucking stars.

My hand slammed to the wall, easing in and out of Sloane’s delicate mouth. She took me in deep, gagging a little, and I held her there until her throat opened up.

Fuck.

My eyes pinched tight, my hand working around her hair. I rocked deep, gripping hard, enjoying this too much. This was a temporary high, and I knew that.

I just didn’t fucking care.

And I noticed Sloane after a beat. She was going faster, sucking harder. I gazed down, and she was looking at me, her eyes heated, aggressive. She played with my balls, taking me to the brink too fast, and I wasn’t going to last.

“Sloane. Fuck.” I spilled down her throat in minutes, seconds. I didn’t even have a chance to pull her off and fuck her the way I wanted to, and Sloane held herself to me. She swallowed it all down and licked me clean after.

She even put my pants back up.

After that, she was on her feet, and I didn’t know what to make of her expression.

Mostly because she was avoiding my eyes.

Zipping up her coat, she merely wiped her mouth before looking at me. “Let me know when you actually want to talk.”

Fuck.

I closed my eyes. “Sloane.”

“No.” She raised her hand, her head shaking. I tried to touch her, but she wasn’t having that. Instead, she left the shed, passing the agents. I didn’t know if they knew what we’d gotten up to, but I didn’t care. I was too busy running after Sloane and begging her to talk to me. I was starting to wonder if this was it. If this would be the last time I’d be able to go after her and if she’d even let me. With all my toxicity, this might not be the right thing for her, and I was wondering if I even should go after her. She always made me better.

But what did I ever do for her?

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