Depraved, p.1
Depraved, page 1
Depraved
BWWM Dark Bully Romance
The Crispin & Amina Series
Book Three
Jamila Jasper
Edited by
Rosie M
Copyright © 2023 by Jamila Jasper
ISBN: 9798868323706
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This book was previously published as a Kindle Vella story and will now be updated completely and published as an eBook. The story line, characters and structure will be updated and edited for the eBook format.
Please read this warning before purchasing this book or going any further.
Created with Vellum
Content Notice
The content in this story may be disturbing to some readers. Sensitive readers beware, this is a dark BWWM bully romance novel with themes readers may find troubling and frank discussions about race that may disturb some readers.
Violence, strong language, potentially offensive content, sexual violence and death are all mentioned explicitly in this story.
This is a hot, slow-burn interracial romance story in an interconnected series.
Dive into my most popular serial, completely updated for readers who enjoy and prefer completed full-length novels.
Contents
Books In Series
Description
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
About Jamila Jasper
Patreon
Thank You Kindly
Books In Series
The Crispin & Amina Series
Despicable
Damaged
Depraved
Deranged
Disturbed
Desired
Delirious
The Prequel Series
The Ben & Libby Series
Unlovable
Unattainable
Undesirable
Unwanted
Unraveled
Unbroken
In this book universe…
The third series in this book universe is currently exclusive to Patreon subscribers.
Click here to learn more:
www.patreon.com/jamilajasper
Description
A dark twist wrenches Crispin and Amina apart just when their relationship reaches a point of true racial healing and understanding.
Crispin invites Amina to his family home in Barbados.
It doesn't take long around the old colonial plantation for Amina to uncover the Barclay secret.
Where they get their rum...
The dark history that made her boyfriend a billionaire...
Keeping their relationship together isn't easy once they touch down in paradise.
Reaching the mile-high club on her billionaire boyfriend's private jet is a high that crashes with Amina's hopes for a future with Crispin.
The tall, blond Englishman's bigoted family doesn't approve of his dark-skinned girlfriend.
More problems from Crispin's past loom around them.
As their universe turns to chaos, they have to fight for what they truly want.
A world where race doesn't matter.
A world where they can make love on the beach...
And have the happily ever after they should have had from the start of their warm, Caribbean holiday.
This is Book #3 of a 6 book series with a morally grey alpha hero, a black female lead and a lovable cast of characters. This series must be read together, in order. This is a spin-off series to The British Bully Series with Ben & Libby, another interracial bully romance set at Rapetti Academy.
Chapter 1
Crispin pushed hair out of my face and leaned over me, panting. His warm body pressed into mine, making me want him more. He was so perfect and so close. I loved the feeling of his hulking, muscular body hovering over mine. His gaze lingered on me and lying beneath him on the reclined chair, I wanted to strip his clothes off and see every inch of Crispin’s body naked again.
“I want you right now,” he murmured, the background of the private jet fading around us so it was just me, my billionaire school crush and luxurious leather chairs.
His body was toned from soccer and Crispin in general never skipped the opportunity to stay active. I didn’t just love his musculature but Crispin’s sheer size. I craved seeing him naked again as badly as I wanted to deny it to myself. Seeing him naked again turned me on.
I ran my hands down his back appreciating the sheer size of Crispin’s physique. His closeness made me whimper without Crispin really touching me. The roar of the jet engine surrounded us with dull white noise. I couldn’t help but find it peaceful to be beneath him with the soft rush of sound and Crispin’s protective body over mine.
Being alone with him was magical. 30 thousand feet above everywhere…
And we were official. I was his girlfriend and that was almost as magical as being with him.
“I want you so badly,” Crispin whispered again. His soft voice and his English accent melted me in his arms. I had never felt so open with Crispin. I couldn’t tell if it was the ‘girlfriend’ label or the luxury.
His words made me shiver and he leaned over to kiss my shoulder tenderly. He wanted me. Not any other girl. Me. Amina Hewett. And he knew exactly how fucked up my life had been. He knew all my dirty secrets. All the horrible things I’d hidden. My whole life, I’d gone to bed crying, wishing that someone understood. Wishing that I could just tell someone.
And now Crispin Barclay knew. And he hadn’t run away.
I grabbed Crispin’s shirt and pulled him closer, running my ankles along the backs of his legs and drawing him close to me. We were alone except for the pilot and two stewards who were locked away in the front of the plane so we had total privacy. I didn’t know if I would have cared. I wanted him that badly. Crispin didn’t seem worried at all but then again, Crispin wouldn’t.
I pushed my hand under his shirt, desperate to feel his body. His amazing body, cut from sprinting down soccer fields and running unreasonably fast miles. He shivered as I touched him which made me want to touch him more. I ran my hand over his biceps, continuing to enjoy his thick, sinewy muscles.
He chuckled as I touched him and murmured, “That feels nice.”
I bent my fingers and ran my nails over Crispin’s perfect, ridged abs. He groaned as I applied gentle pressure to his chest. Using my other hand, I pulled his face close to mine.
“I quite enjoy when you have your way with me, Lips.”
“Have my way with you?” I whispered, inhaling his scent and attempting to get impossibly close to him. I had never been so needy about a guy before and Crispin responded extremely well to my touch, making me more comfortable with enjoying his physique.
“I like when you get all wild.”
His fingers caressed my thighs and I shuddered as I squeezed him close to me. I never wanted this plane to land. We didn’t have much time left in the journey, and I knew Crispin enjoyed taking his time with me. I was greedy for him and I didn’t want him to stop or for us to somehow miss out on this moment.
I never wanted to move away from Crispin. I slowly ran my fingers over the dark tufts of hair beneath his navel and followed the little trail to the waist of his trousers. I ran my hand along the front, stopping at his belt buckle for a moment and then rounding my grasp over Crispin’s hardness.
He was really hard. I was ready for him too and extremely impatient. The longer we waited, the more I was sure the plane would suddenly spiral out of control and something would shatter this moment. Crispin kissed me again and then murmured, “Go on, Lips. We’re here and we’re entirely alone...”
Crispin leaned forward and then the cabin door that ought to have separated us from the staff burst open.
The blue-eyed older woman yelped, “Mr. Barclay!”
“Damn it, Ms. Perkins!” Crispin snarled.
She made another shocked yelp and averted her eyes as politely as possible given the circumstances. I shoved Crispin off me and adjusted myself in my seat, squeezing my knees together as if proper posture could stop me from looking wanton to Ms. Perkins.
She stammered nervously, “Oh my! I’m sorry. Mr. Barclay...”
Crispin groaned and leaned back in his seat with a sigh. I didn’t make an audible noise but I quietly wanted to smack the hell out of Crispin. He had worked me up to the edge and then pulled away at the last second. My frustration needed an outlet and apparently, Crispin’s did as well.
“Well, you’re already here. What is it?” He snapped while completely red in the face.
&nbs p; She responded stiffly. “We’re ready to serve dinner.”
“Go ahead,” Crispin snapped, “Hurry.”
He added with more intense and demanding frustration, “Bring wine.”
I’d never heard Crispin treat anyone that rudely before. His cheeks darkened as she hastened away and he glanced over at me.
“Why are you giving me that look?”
“She didn’t mean to interrupt,” I whispered, “It’s fine. We have the entire holiday. Don’t be rude.”
“Right,” Crispin muttered.
“You should say sorry to her.”
“Why? I specifically asked not to be interrupted.”
I couldn’t sit back and let Crispin act like that.
“Don’t act like a brat.”
“I am a brat,” Crispin huffed, “A horny brat who—
Ms. Perkins emerged with trays and set them down on the folded tables in front of us.
“Thank you,” Crispin said and then he muttered, “My apologies for snapping.”
Ms. Perkins looked like she’d never heard Crispin say that before and lifted the metal covers away from our food. Crispin was still trying to feed me all the time, clearly. I stared at the plate and tried not to let thousands of horrible insecure thoughts rush through my head. It’s just a steak. A really nice juicy, not horrible and fattening steak. With potatoes. And tasty veggies. Yum.
Crispin put his hand on my thigh, jerking me out of my food-induced reverie. He leaned over and kissed my cheek before he whispered, “I’m not through with you, Twiggy. Have a bite. I can wait for sex... You’re worth it.”
My heart skipped a beat and I looked up at Crispin with a goofy smile on my face. I didn’t want him to see me getting all cheesy, so I turned my head away and started cutting my steak. Instead of cutting the entire thing in tiny bites and dividing the bites in half, I cut a single bite and put it in my mouth.
“Mmmmm.”
That steak was damn good.
“I knew you’d love it,” Crispin said, chuckling.
Ms. Perkins re-emerged from the other compartment of the jet with a bottle of wine on ice. Crispin muttered a crisp thanks and then uncorked the bottle. He glanced over at me with a mischievous grin.
“I’ve been having mixed feelings about the holiday. My entire family’s gone and I’m about to see my bloody grandparents... Would you be terribly upset if I wanted to... get super drunk?”
I didn’t want to navigate a strange country on my own. I knew nothing about Barbados and taking care of a drunk giant didn’t seem like a good idea. Getting drunk after we arrived on the mysterious island seemed like a much better idea.
“Are you sure?” I asked Crispin, trying to be the responsible one. Crispin grinned at me like he thought I was worried over nothing.
“I’ll still look after you,” Crispin promised as if he could read my mind. “And you can drink too. I would love to get you smashed.”
I rolled my eyes. Crispin just wanted to have fun and after our frustrating moment, I craved some release.
“As long as we’re not drinking whiskey.”
“We?”
“We’re on a private jet, Mr. Barclay. If you’re getting drunk, I’m getting drunk.”
Crispin laughed, “I love you.”
My heart always did a little jump when Crispin told me that he loved me.
“The feeling’s mutual, Mr. Barclay.”
“Oh, now you’re making me feel old. And anyway, before the story broke, I used to be a Hargreaves-Barclay,” he groaned, in a very British accent that did make him sound much older than his eighteen years. Crispin had a deep voice. The type of voice that I could listen to all day.
Crispin poured a glass of deep red wine for me and then poured one for himself. He sipped his wine and sighed. I was nervous about drinking something that wasn’t prosecco but watching Crispin tip the glass back into his throat and inhaling the sweet heady scent made me want to drink it. Shamelessly. I tried a sip. Damn.
I wasn’t an expert, but the wine was good and it made looking at Crispin even better. One look at him and I craved nothing more than kissing him and tasting the wine off his lips.
Crispin seemed to be lost in thought about his family now that we we had been interrupted. He told me a few anecdotes about yacht parties and family reunions in Barbados before he grew quiet and sad.
He started talking about his parents, which I probably should have expected based on the shift in his expression and the sadness perfectly captured in his blue eyes.
Crispin cleared his throat and explained to me, “My grandparents hated my father. They always thought my mum could do better than him. She was the Hargreaves… Maybe they were right.” For a moment, a dour look crossed Crispin’s face. Then he seemed to pull himself together and he grinned. “As soon as we land, I’m taking you to the beach.”
“What about your grandparents? Won’t they meet us at the airport?”
Crispin snorted and said, “We’re not that sort of family.”
I didn’t know what sort of family he meant. Crispin was always saying weird stuff like that. Boy, bye.
He took another gulp of his wine, polishing off the glass. We ate and drank for a little bit more and talked about silly stuff. Crispin hated all my opinions on classical music, preferring the baroque period. Hm, bad taste He also hated all my opinions on soccer boys and kept trying to defend Jack Dyson for forgetting my name after asking me out three times. I said that King Kong white boy needed to clean his fingernails and Crispin agreed with that part. Crispin’s hands were always clean.
Before I knew it, my tummy was full, two bottles of wine were already gone, and when Crispin tipped the wine bottle into my glass only three drops came out. His face was beet red. Pink all over. He was more relaxed than I’d ever seen him and instead of looking all sullen and grumpy he was... smiling. Easy-going.
He chuckled as he shook the last few drops from the bottle.
“Twiggy...” he said, chuckling even more, “Did we drink three bottles of wine?”
The thought suddenly struck me as hilarious. Had we? No way. But maybe we had. I giggled and Ms. Perkins emerged from the back and cleared our plates. Crispin leaned over and pressed his forehead to mine. His eyes drew me in, like they usually did.
“Twiggy,” he murmured, “I think we’re properly drunk.”
“I’m not,” I answered, giggling like I was successfully keeping my drunkenness a secret from him.
His voice was low and gravelly, “Can you hold your liquor?”
I shook my head. I 100% couldn’t hold my liquor. And Crispin was right, the fact that I was drunk would be a big problem once the wine hit me properly. Oops.
I giggled a little and Crispin said, “Oh, sweetheart, we’re in trouble.”
“Shhhhh,” I whispered, giggling again.
Crispin grabbed my cheek and pulled my face towards his. We started kissing again. Classical music played on the plane’s speakers, hopefully a sign from Ms. Perkins and the rest of the crew that we wouldn’t get interrupted anymore. Crispin climbed over to my seat, his body pressed over mine as he unfastened my seatbelt. Yes.
He reclined my seat.
Crispin grunted and spread my legs open as he lay fully clothed on top of me, kissing me. He was flushed and anxious to get his clothes off. I couldn’t blame him. I dragged his shirt off his shoulders and pulled him against me, touching his abs again. My hands found his belt but instead of hesitating over his trousers, I undid his belt and slid his pants down over his butt.
