She made a friend. The same girl who latched onto my little bird on her way to freshmen orientation. Samantha Hartley is a freshman too, her family is old money, rich, but not as wealthy as they used to be. She lives in Alistern House with six other people who appear to be three sets of open-minded couples. According to Clay’s research, the six of them rarely attend classes and instead use their time to vigorously attempt to impregnate each other in every part of the house.

The three girls are the Attingham triplets, whose family is on the verge of bankruptcy. It appears that the girls are aware that they need to secure wealthy spouses and instead of an education, they’re using Kingsacre as husband-hunting ground. Considering one out of the three sisters is already pregnant and it’s only the third week of the school year, their plan seems to be coming together. Their unwitting victims are Tim Grimes, Nicholas Farris and Chris Morgan-Baraclough. All relatively new money and seemingly unaware of their latest fuck buddies’ financial precariousness.

Sammy isn’t a bad choice of a friend for my little bird, I might have promised to stay out of my girl’s life, but that was never going to happen. There’s no way I’ll allow anyone around her who’s going to hurt her. Clay has made it his mission to befriend Starling, even though she’s rebuffed all of his attempts so far. Evan is desperately trying to use the stepbrother card to force a relationship with her and Hunter is determined to feed her.

None of it is working, she still hates us.

It’s been two weeks since I told her I was sorry, that I promised her I’d leave her alone.

I lied.

She’s mine and I can’t let her go, not even if I wanted to. The game has changed, but the result will still be the same, she’ll be mine. Only this time she’ll think it’s her choice.

The front door opens and I know it’s her before she even steps into the house. My skin buzzes with awareness the moment she’s close, like every atom in me knows when she’s in my orbit. I want to grab her by the throat, pin her to the wall and rip her clothes from her until she’s naked and wet and begging for my cock.

I miss the feeling of being inside of her. I promised her all my cum was for her, that from now on whenever I came it would be in her or on her, but after two weeks, my balls are bluer than fucking Papa Smurf. I’ve had much longer dry spells, the two and a half years she was in Maine were hell, but once you’ve had perfection, everything else pales in comparison. If I can’t be inside her, I’d rather keep my dick in my pants. At least back then I had my hand. Whacking off isn’t exactly my first choice, but it was still a release, now I don’t even have that. The moment she’s back in my arms, I’m going to fuck her so hard and so often my cum will be dripping out of her constantly for at least the first six months.