I stride toward her and pull her into my arms, her body pressed against mine.
“I told you already, I have a problem with the wordask. I’m not asking. I’m telling you.”
“You’re never going to learn that I hate being told what to do.”
“But you don’t feel that way anymore when I’m the one doing it.”
“Oh, really?!”
“Really. Deep down, you know I’ll never again tell you to do anything you don’t want to. You said it yourself—you hate the confines of your room. Your dorm is not your home. This will be. Not because of the place. Because it’s with me.”
“I must have a magic pussy if you want us to move in together this fast.”
“Mouthtoo.”
Her hands grip my shirt, pulling me closer, lips hovering over mine, letting her warm breath tease me.
“I’m hungry,” Summer whispers.
“For my dick?”
She chuckles.
“I can’t agree to anything when I’m hungry.”
“Still talking about my dick, right?”
“Tell me you have food in this house.”
I huff a sigh of defeat.
“I stuffed the kitchen with everything so we wouldn’t have to leave the house for at least a week.”
“A week, huh?” She smirks and pulls away, refusing me the taste of her lips. “You’re cooking for me.”
I choke on a cough.
“Come again?”
“Oh, I plan to. Many times. I’ll ride your annoyingly handsome face like a pony.”
She smiles and grabs my hand, dragging me to the kitchen.
“But you owe me a date, so you’ll cook for me.”
A couple of steps are all she’s allowed, before I yank her back, the wall and me making a sandwich out of her. It takes me nanosecondsto force her legs around my waist, my cock already grinding against her. I’m unwilling to accept doing anything but burying myself deep inside her right this second.
Her tongue darts, licking my lips.
“Do this for me, and I promise to repay you in full.” Summer opens her crossbody bag to show me its contents, and amongst them is the pink remote vibrator. “You have to make good on your promises.” She winks.
Then she lowers her legs and ducks under my arm. Taking my hand from where it rests on the wall, she leads me toward the kitchen.
“Cooking first, screwing next.” Her tone—impervious to objections.
“You’re a fuckin’ demon, honey. You always find new ways to torture me,” I mumble after her.
“You just asked that demon to move in with you.” She glances at me over her shoulder.
