Savage Grace

8 - Ryatt

Why the fuck did I taste her? I raked my fingers through my hair as I paced my room, the flavor of Grace, mixed with the salty ocean water on her fingers still on my tongue. I shoved my hand inside of board shorts, pulling my swollen cock free as I leaned with a hand on my desk, jerking off while my eyes focused on my laptop screen.

Grace was in her bed, pouting after my intrusion. "Come on, Kitten," I muttered, fisting myself as I watched her readjust in her bed. After a beat, she slid her hand lower, and the view was no longer obstructed by her comforter. Her fingertips brushed over her panties. "That's a good girl," I rasped, squeezing my cock with a death grip. Grace bit down on her lip before her fingers slid under the thin fabric. She was rubbing her clit, her fingers not drifting lower.

Her eyes were closed, her brows pinched as she searched for her release. "That's it," I rasped.

Her back arched, her small tits tenting the fabric of my shirt that she still wore. She's so fucking close. I can't remember the last time I even cared if my partner came. Sex is nothing more than currency in this town. But I wanted to see her face, hear the tiny moans and whimpers that fall from her lips when she gets off. What makes you come, Kitten?

"Ryatt," she sighed. It's barely a whisper, but it slams against my chest, causing my release to rack through my body, coming all over my hand. I struggled to slow my breathing, looking down at the mess I made. But when my eyes went back to the screen, I saw her staring back at me, through the camera and I couldn't help but feel like she could actually see me.

***

The next morning, I sat at the table, trying desperately to ignore the stranger in my kitchen. "Ryatt, I'm so glad you were able to join us for the school year," Grace's mother Hope called from in front of the espresso maker. I gritted my teeth, hating that this woman was pretending this was her home and I was the outsider. "Do you have any classes with Grace?"

I relaxed my grip on my fork and knife, staring down at my steak and eggs. If I was going to be here, I needed to at least appear like I cared. My eyes met hers, and I realized how much Grace looked like her.

"A few," I bit out before sawing another bite of my steak, blood pooling beneath it on the plate.

"That's nice. I'm so glad she'll have a friend. Your father said you'd look after her."

I snorted as I looked up at her again. Her smile was sincere, and I couldn't figure out how the hell she was with someone like my dad.

"How did you and Enzo meet?"

Hope sank down in a seat across from me. "Your father had done some business with my late husband. He sent the most beautiful flowers after he passed away, made sure everything was taken care of. He's such a thoughtful man."

I dropped my silverware on my plate, leaning back in my chair, shaking my head. My father had killed Grace's dad and planned to marry the guy's fucking wife? "Yeah, that sounds like my dad. Real sweetheart." She flinched. She was quick to school her features, but I'd seen it, a flicker of pain.

Grace walked into the room, calling out a good morning to her mother before her eyes landed on me and her smile faltered. I drank back my orange juice as one of the staff took away my plate. My eyes fell to the back of her thighs. Her pleated skirt must have been rolled up on her waist half a dozen times. And somehow her knee highs made the look even more obscene.

"Would you like some breakfast, Gracie?" Hope asked. I watched Grace's face go hard. "Don't call me that."

"That's what I've always called you," Hope replied as Grace grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge.

"No." She spun around, leaning against the counter on her elbows. Causing her small perky tits to push against her fitted white Oxford. "That's what Dad called me." I didn't miss her eyes flitting to me. I'd called her Gracie and she didn't say anything about it. Not that I blamed her. But I wondered if it bothered her when I did it.

"Did you get the wrong size uniform?" her mother asked, finally taking in her daughter.

Grace scoffed, looking down over herself. "What's wrong with what I have on? It fits."

"Nothing. I just thought..." her voice trailed off. "Do you need a ride to school?" Hope asked.

"I'll take the bus," Kitten hissed before grabbing her bag and stalking out of the room. Moments later the front door slammed. Hope's eyes met mine before she looked down at the table, shaking her head.

"I'll keep an eye on her," I reassured her, causing her to smile, before I pushed to my feet and stalked after Grace, watching her hips sway as she crossed our driveway.

***

I made it to first period before Grace, slipping in and sinking down in the seat behind her new friend. When she entered the room, I saw her body tense before averting her gaze and trudging toward the back, sitting at the desk two rows behind me.

Class began and I pulled out my phone, doing a quick search for Grace's father, when I heard her giggle. My hand stilled and I glanced over my shoulder at Marcus Fuller as he leaned closer to her, showing her something on his kindle.

I ignored it, going back to trying to figure out how Grace ended up in my home in the first place. But her father was a mechanic. He had no record that I could find, and his death appeared to be accidental. It was rare anyone in my father's business made an example out of a killing, so that wasn't surprising. But it didn't explain why he was on my father's radar.

I scrolled thought the videos of her before I arrived, watching her spend hours lying on her bed, engrossed in her novel. Sometimes she'd touch herself to what she was reading. I zoomed in, taking note of the pages she was on before clicking on the next set of videos.

When she wasn't engrossed in a novel, she was on her phone.

I clicked on my Amazon app and ordered two kindles for same day delivery. It would be easier to track what she's into if we had synced devices tied to my account.

"I'm Marc," I heard him say.

"Grace," she whispered back.

"I'd ask you how you like it here, but..." his voice trailed off and she let out a small laugh, "your first day was kind of rough, huh?"

"Oh, you saw that?" she asked. "No big deal. People like that don't get under my skin."

People like that? I couldn't help but smirk.

"Are you sure? It looked pretty intense."

"I've met worse," she muttered, making me wonder who in her life had made her think that I was tame. "Besides, people who act that way only do it because they can't forge real relationships, so they control people with fear."

"I'm not really sure that's true with him," Marc replied, his voice barely audible now. "I just don't think he wants to get close to people."

"Must be nice not to have to worry about anyone but yourself."

"Probably because he spent so many years worrying about his mom."

I stiffened, rubbing palm along my jaw as my muscles tensed.

"What?" Grace asked. "What happened to his mom?"

"No one really knows," his words came out rushed. "My advice is don't try to figure out someone who doesn't want to be. There's emotionally unavailable and then there's Ryatt."

The bell rang and I pushed from my seat, stalking out of the room and down the hall.

***