Living at the Frat House - A College Romance

I never could have imagined that when she crashed my poker game last night that I’d have a willing student to mold exactly what I want from her—and extract as much pleasure from her as humanly fucking possible.

I don’t let go of her arm the entire way back to the house, and it’s on purpose that I hold her arm. Not her hand. Right now this isn’t romance. This is about the two of us. What she’s agreed to and what I want.

As soon as we arrive at the door to Granite House, I let her go. “Go straight to my room. You know where it is.”

“I’m going to text my friend to bring me some clothes, if I’m staying here.”

I stare at her before looking her up and down. “I suppose that’s fine, but she’ll have to drop it off. We’re not going to be interrupted.”

She blushes pink, and I’ve already learned to crave that color. She’s innocent enough to still blush when I say even the mildest of dirty things, and yet she sucked my cock like it was something she wanted more than oxygen. I pull her close and press my lips to her ear, loving the feeling of her small shiver and looking forward to seeing her whole body do the same. “Don’t even think about touching yourself before I get there.”

She swallows and nods, and I let her push into the house. There’s a few guys hanging out, but they barely give her any notice. She heads straight to the stairs without looking at anyone or drawing any attention. And to be honest, having a girl head straight up the stairs isn’t an entirely uncommon occurrence in Granite House. We’re a house of men, and men have needs.

There’s a code. If you hear moaning coming from someone’s room, unless the house is on fire or you’re literally dying, you don’t interrupt. And that’s what I’m counting on right now, because for sure I’m about to make Juno scream.

I wave to the guys and head to the kitchen and grab a bottle of water. And another one for Juno. I want to make her wait. Anticipation is a powerful thing, and I didn’t lie to her. I’m good at reading people and I do know how to bend them to my will. Melody—who I’m now sure was the mastermind behind the dare that landed Juno here—is not the same. She likes to meddle with people’s lives and tear them down for sport. For no reason.

I always have a reason.

Something in my mind rebels at that, because there isn’t a reason that I’m holding Juno to this deal of ours, other than that I want her. A deep, visceral want that I can’t explain. I want her in my bed and I want to explore her. I want her to live here with me and to get to know her. I want to protect her from people like fucking Melody and that asshole who tried to force himself on her.

Am I forcing her? By calling her my pet? By making her live here? I didn’t think she would say yes, but she did say yes. I will ask her again, just to be sure, but there was no mistaking the lust in her eyes.

With both water bottles in hand, I head up the stairs to my room. “Hey, Malcolm,” Jack calls and jumps off the couch. “What happened last night? Why’d you send everyone away who wanted in? We’re full but we’re not that full.”

“I’ll explain,” I say, “but not right now. I have something I have to take care of upstairs.”

He smirks. “Okay. If that’s what you want to call it.”

“I do.”

He laughs. “Have fun.”

I guess some people did notice the she came in. But that’s okay. My position as head of Granite House is not in danger, and no one is going to mess with someone I bring in—even if I am fucking them.

When I push open the door to my room, she’s sitting cross-legged on the bed that I made for her. I dug up an air mattress and extra sheets so that she wouldn’t have to sleep on the floor. I’m not sure how long it will take for us to rearrange things so that she has her own room, and I’m equally unsure that I want her sleeping in my bed with me. If she’s my pet, then I shouldn’t let her do that.

We’ll see how this goes. I think we’re both in entirely uncharted territory. But tonight is for only pleasure.

She looks up, and even though she looks nervous, she smiles. “You got me a bed?”

“I’m not a completely awful person,” I say.

“I know.” Her voice is quiet.

We need to talk, but I want her closer first. “Stand up,” I say as I sit on the edge of my bed.