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His words wreck me. I climb his big frame and rise, my feet on the steps until I’m centered right at his tip.

I hear a door slam in the distance and hope that whoever it is, they’re not coming here.

Crying out, I lower myself down on his engorged rod, throwing my head back to savor the pain instead of crying. He leans forward and bites my tender, swollen nipples as I slowly stretch to accommodate him.

“Jesus, Tayla, you’re so fucking tight,” he grits.

Grabbing my hips, he takes control without giving me a second to breathe. He fucks me so hard that I’m afraid I’m going to pass out. Hands clamp me to his hips, and he rides me even though I’m on top of him. I lose my head and bite my tongue as I’m on the brink of the hugest orgasm of my life.

Then Dashiell pulls out and lifts me by the neck until I’m kneeling, his throbbing cock in my face. “Drink it, Princess.”

He cums on my face. Huge white ribbons of his hot seed land across my breasts, cheeks, and lips. He shoves his cock inside my mouth as the final bursts shoot out.

No orgasm for me.

I swallow his semen, and my eyes prick with tears.

He wipes the remnants from my face with his thumb and sticks it in my mouth. “Suck,” he commands.

He kneads my ass with one hand as I lick his cum from his fingers.

“I hate you, Dash,” I sob as I grope for my sweatshirt and pull it around my shoulders.

Dash dresses in an instant and grabs my leg as I try to get a head start. He turns, giving me his back a few steps below him. “Mount up, pussycat. Unless you want to walk twenty-four floors on already sore legs?”

Reluctantly, I wrap my arms around his neck and my legs around his hips. I cry into the back of his shoulder as he carries me, piggyback, up into the endless darkness.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Dashiell

With Tayla on my back, arms wrapped around me, it feels like the world is set right, finally in balance. I don’t want to put her down and let her go back to a separate apartment. I want to tuck her into bed, crawl in next to her, and sleep with her head on my chest. But a part of me hates Tayla, too, wants to hurt her and humiliate her, see tears fall from her eyes in desperate frustration. I want it all to be mine, her shame, anger, and even her sadness. Of course, I want the other emotions, her happiness, arousal, and devotion.

“Should I tuck you into your bed, Sam?”

“Hmpff,” is all I get from her.

“Are you upset, Princess? Is there something you want to tell me?”

She buries her face in my shoulder. I imagine the passionate blush on her face as shame rises against arousal, and she fights them both to the best of her stubborn ability.

“No,” she says.

I open the stairwell door and finally step into our shared hallway. My legs burn with exertion, but I set her down gently and she bee-lines for her door, extracting her key from her sweatshirt pocket.

“Not so fast.” I pin Sam to her front door, yanking her arms behind her back like she’s under arrest. “Tell me what you want,” I demand in her ear. Lifting my thigh, I put my knee right between her legs so she can create friction where she wants it.

“No, I’m going to bed. I don’t want to see you again,” she claims.

“If you tell me what you want, I promise I’ll do it. You only have to say it out loud.” Her blush hits her ears, making my dick swell anew.

“I want to come, you selfish mother fucker,” she spits.

I shove her more forcefully into the door and she turns her head to the side. “All you had to do was ask.”

I kick her foot so her legs splay and slip a hand between her thighs until I hit her swollen silk that’s slick with desire. I slide my fingers through her folds as she presses back, trying to get me to slide my fingers inside her.

“I’ma make you come how I want. You can’t fuck my fingers, Princess,” I scold.

She exhales hard in frustration. I position the pads of my four fingers over her sopping pussy and rub her frenetically, thrumming over her swollen clit until she’s moaning and gasping.

“Can’t you just fuck me, Dashiell?” she pleads through clenched teeth.

But I don’t need to answer because she’s buckling, her spine rounding and her posture caving as the orgasm takes her. She cries out as she rubs herself into my fingers, probably aching for my dick. The knowledge has blood surging to my cock again.

I let go of her arms and reach around to pinch her nipples as she keens and grinds into my hand. I hope this experience is utterly humiliating. Just like I felt every day trying to live up to the elite students at Haverton.



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