Poison Throne: A Dark College Romance(19)

I shot him a sassy wink and hip pop, then spun around and made a speedy exit. When I was free and clear, I released a long sigh.

For Rafe, that fight would probably end up as a physical one. Whoever was left breathing at the end would be the victor.

Dysfunctional didn't even scratch the surface on this three-way relationship I'd somehow found myself in.





Chapter 15





Jordan was already at the springs when I got there, standing in the water with just the top half of his back visible as he stared across the spectacular view of mountains beyond the royal compound. My heart pounded hard in my chest, and I was torn between throwing myself into his arms and just playing it cool like this wasn't shredding me to pieces.

Dropping the towel on a chair, I made sure my hair was secured in a high ponytail before stepping into the warm water. Just like last time I was here, the water soothed me as it wrapped around my cuts and bruises, and as I got closer to Jordan, my eyes locked on all the battered skin I could see, I prayed that it was as healing as everyone here liked to think.

All of us needed a little healing, and not just for our physical injuries.

When I reached his side, he didn't turn toward me, and I didn't push him. We both stared at a picture-perfect image. Eventually, I had to catalog his injuries—it was just something I did. Cuts and bruises across basically every visible surface of skin. Whip marks on his arms and shoulders. A few burns on the underside of his chin leading down his throat.

"It wasn't that bad," he said.

I cleared my throat, trying to regain my equilibrium. "I've been tortured," I managed to get out. "It's pretty bad."

Jordan's laugh was derisive. "There is worse pain than physical injuries."

At this stage I had no fucking clue what he was talking about.

"Talk to me," I begged. "Don't shut me out. I'll do whatever I can to fix this."

That seemed to snap him out of the morose mood he was in. Morose turned to anger as he abandoned the view and finally met my gaze. "Did you fall back into bed with him? He had images of you, so many that I welcomed the torture so I didn't have to focus on you fucking the man putting his cigar out on my skin."

I blinked at him, my brain screaming while my breaths hissed in and out forcefully. "I wasn't with Uriel," I said. "I slept with him once when I was sixteen. Any images would have been from that... or photo manipulation. I swear to you."

Jordan examined me, those dark eyes of his shadowed, and I was so desperate to see them back to normal because he trusted that I wasn’t lying about this. "I think I just need a few days," he finally said, and I almost choked on the lump in my throat when he ran a finger over my cheek, voluntarily touching me. "I promise to work on sorting out the mess that is my head. Can you give me some time?"

I nodded, unable to speak.

Jordan's smile was almost normal as he turned and waded back through the water, leaving me there. I didn't follow him with my eyes, unable to stand the sight of someone else walking away from me. Focusing on the view, I blinked over and over, fighting with everything I had not to cry.

A battle I lost as the first tear slipped free. It burned against my cool skin and started an avalanche of agony that I couldn't stem. How had everything gone from perfect to a fucking mess so quickly? Even for me, that was impressive. Weeks of being trapped in a prison of Uriel's making had taken its toll on me as well, and I'd finally reached the end of my ability to handle it.

The pain in my gut was so bad, equally matching the pain in my chest, as I leaned forward and braced my hands on my knees to stop myself from crumbling into a little ball.

"Five more minutes," I sobbed out loud. "You have five more fucking minutes to fall apart before it's time to get your game face on."

Saying the words out loud should have helped me calm my shit, but if anything, it had the opposite effect. My knees crumpled a little, and just as I was going down under the water, arms wrapped around me, catching me as they dragged me back into a firm chest.

"I'm sorry, baby," Jordan whispered by my ear, holding me with a firm grip that must have hurt him. "I fucked that up. I keep doing that."

Another sob. More fucking sobs. I couldn't shut it down, couldn't make it stop.

"I'm the one fucking up everything," I choked out. "You don't even know the whole story. I've been a disaster since birth with a destiny that no one would want."

His hold didn't ease. "Rafe told me everything, and I don’t give a shit about any of that. Rafe and I both need to pull our heads out of our asses."

He released me just enough that he could turn me to face him. "I haven't even asked how you're handling everything," Jordan whispered, anguish in his voice. "I didn't want you to have to deal with me when I'm like this, but hurting you more... it's not an option."

"I'm sorry," I sobbed, my face feeling hot and swollen. "I'm so, so sorry they hurt you."

When he leaned over and pressed his lips to mine, more tears fell—the pain was agonizing. Everything about this felt like a goodbye moment, and I wasn't sure I could handle that.

When Jordan pulled away, his eyes were red, and even if there were no tears, his pain was just as transparent as mine. "You're leaving me, aren't you?"

His eyes narrowed. "Not a fucking chance, Violet."

I—What?

This time when he kissed me, there was not a single ounce of "goodbye" in it; if anything, Jordan kissed me like he'd been desperately craving this his entire life. It started slower, soft as he explored my mouth and I did the same to him in return. I needed this even more than I'd realized, and neither of us were in a rush.

Savoring it was a good way to describe it.

"I was so fucking worried about you," Jordan breathed, pulling back. "The things Uriel said he would do to you—the things he said he did do to you—made me lose my mind."

I was going to kill him. Uriel had fucked with my life one too many times, and I didn't care how long it took, one day I would end that son of a bitch.

Jordan distracted me from my murderous thoughts by lifting me up in the water, bringing our faces closer together. As I wrapped my legs around him, trying to be as gentle as I could, he started to walk backward, heading toward a familiar alcove.

"Last time I didn't get to finish what I started," he murmured, kissing me between each word. "This time I won't stop."

Normally I would have threatened to kill him if he did. But it felt like we'd all come too close to that recently, so I just pulled myself closer and said, "Please don't. I need you."

Jordan's face fell. "I'm sorry, Vi. I hurt you, and that was never my intention. My own fucked up thoughts sent me down a dark path."

Not wanting to cry again, I lifted my head, needing to get back to the kissing. Jordan obliged, and as my lips parted and his tongue stroked across mine, my body responded in kind, rocking into the hard length pressed against my thin bikini bottoms.

"Is this hurting you?" I gasped when he released me.

"Not even a little."

His hands went to my waist, lifting me higher so that he could reached beneath my swimsuit and stroke across my clit. Wetness gathered at his touch. I was so ready, craving this moment with Jordan. Apparently both of us were impatient because he didn't undress me, choosing instead to pull my swimsuit aside as I freed him from his shorts. His long, hard length was silky under my touch, and as he lifted me a little higher, I slid down onto him, groaning as he filled me completely.

"Jordan."

"Violet," he replied. "You feel so fucking good."

The water helped as he started to move inside of me, stroking in and out with long, sure movements that had whimpers falling from my lips as my body responded fully. No more words were spoken between us, but Jordan never took his eyes from mine and when I came, his lips swallowed my cries.

Carrying the bulk of my weight, he moved farther into the pools to where it was shallow enough that he could lay me back on the smooth, natural stones that had been worn over time until they were like marble. Setting me down gently, he moved harder and faster, and I wrapped my legs around him, needing to be as close as I could to my sweet prince.

His tongue caressed my nipples through the swimsuit top, and they were so sensitive that I knew I wasn't going to be able to hold out for much longer. As my moans got louder, the spiraling in my center exploded, and I cried out his name.

"Baby, holy fuck," he groaned, following me as he jerked inside of me, both of us coming for what felt like ten minutes.

The next part was almost as good as the sex. Jordan didn't drop my ass in the water and storm away; instead, he helped me fix my swimsuit. Then together we floated in the water, chatting about nothing and everything at the same time.

I'd be an idiot not to notice that he was different. There was a sliver of steel at his core that hadn't been there before, a violence that was quicker to appear in his eyes—especially when I spoke about Uriel and any plans of the bad resistance—but he didn't take it out on me again. I had to hope and pray that meant we could move back to a relationship like before.

A few hours later, I was wrinkled as fuck and it was time to get out. I'd been avoiding it because going back to reality meant going back to whatever was left of the world I'd been trying to rebuild before.