Page 39 of Roughing


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Regardless, she’s allowing me to give her an orgasm in the middle of class, biting down on her lip, as she tightens her grip on my fingers. Her eyes shut the further I bring her to the point of release, her body shaking in the process.

Leaning over, I speak against her ear, my voice a whisper. “Your pussy is so fucking wet. The next time you get pissed at me, just remember that I did this to you. Now, come for me.”

Stifling the soft moans that escape her lips, she covers her mouth with her hand, doing her best to keep quiet as she comes on my fingers.

Disregarding the other students in the room, she doesn’t seem to care because it feels too good for her to want me to stop. Not like I would care if someone found me with my hand between her legs. In fact, the idea of being caught excites me. But Tori would die from embarrassment if that were to happen.

In under a minute, I gave Tori the one thing she didn’t realize she had needed before I sat down. My cock is rock hard and ready for more of her tight pussy. I can never get enough of her.

“Come with me,” I say, removing my fingers and pushing her panties back into place. “We need to finish this.”

She stares at me, as I suck her juices her from my fingers, not giving a fuck that we’re in the middle of class. With the scent of sex in the air, I wouldn’t be surprised if someone figures out what we just did. They can look all they want. It wasn’t the first time I have done something like this in public. But with Tori, this is different.

“Where are we going?” She mutters, out of breath.

“Anywhere but here.” I keep my voice low. “I don’t care. Get your bag and follow me.”

Chapter 12

Tori

Bash always finds a way to get everyone to do what he wants—including me. He bent me to his will, making me succumb to my desires, and in class, of all places. I feel so dirty and cheap, like one of his whores. But at this moment, I don’t give a fuck. I have zero fucks to give after Bash gave me another mind-blowing orgasm. And I want another one.

I follow him out of the classroom as if on autopilot from the high he had just given me. His fingers were like magic, commanding power over me, taking me to the brink of ecstasy.

We run down the somewhat vacant hallway with our hands intertwined. Our excitement buzzes between us, the electricity between us palpable. Even though I know that what we did was wrong, it feels so right. With Bash, every feeling I once had for him has come flooding back to me ever since the night of the football game.

From the start of the school year, I wanted to hate Bash. But he makes it impossible. It’s hard not to like Bash when he smiles at me as though there’s no else in the room with us, his bright green eyes burning a hole through me. Or when he tells me how sorry he is for letting me walk away. Most of the time, I believe him. I want him back in my life, and I want us to take our relationship to the next level.

The rooms are locked when not in use, but Bash manages to find one that is vacant. We step inside, and he locks the door, pulling down the shade to cover the window, leaving us in darkness. The room is on the small side for a biology lab, not much larger than the classrooms I’ve had for English Lit. He leads me to a long laboratory desk toward the front, cups my ass with his big hands, his erection digging into me, and lifts me up and onto the cold marble top.

Bash spreads my legs, finding his place among them. Planting hungry kisses on my lips, Bash doesn’t waste any time exploring my body, his hands traveling up my shirt and beneath my bra to cup my breasts in his big hands. He massages my nipples, giving them a little pinch, as his tongue tangles with mine.

The more he touches me, the more I lose all control. Right now, Bash owns my body. And whether I care to admit it or not, Bash has always owned my heart. He claimed it a long time ago.

I let out a soft moan as his hand slides between my thighs. My panties are so wet. I cannot think of anything other than immersing myself into mind-blowing sexual bliss with Bash.

When he stops kissing me long enough to look into my eyes, he smiles one of those crooked smiles that go right to my core. Bash leans in, and I thread my fingers through his shaggy brown hair and slip my tongue in his mouth. He palms the back of my head, deepening the kiss.

Each kiss grows more passionate, more impatient. Heat spreads from my cheeks, down my arms, and to my thighs like wildfire. An intense burning, a desire only Bash can satisfy, makes my body quiver in anticipation, but I’m also a little nervous about having sex with Bash. This isn’t our first time. Even so, it sure feels like he’s stripping me of my virginity all over again.

He slides his hands up the back of my shirt and unhooks my bra. I sit back, staring into his eyes, as I pull my shirt over my head and set it on the counter behind me.

Bash grabs the straps of my bra and slips them down my arms. He stops for a moment, his gaze traveling from my breasts to my face, before holding my gaze. He lets out a loud sigh. “You are so fucking beautiful, Tori.”

I smile, his words melting my heart along with my panties.

Just as his tongue is about to glide over my nipple, the sound of people talking fills the once quiet air. Before I can prepare myself, the door at the back of the classroom flings open, students filing in without even noticing we are there. Still dressed, Bash blocks me with his muscular frame and reaches behind me to hand me my shirt. Acting fast, I put my shirt back on in record timing, sans bra, and use Bash as my shield.

As students begin to take their seats, someone has enough sense to flip the light switch, drawing their attention to the front of the room. The shock of such a compromising position makes me want to crawl into a ball and die. Bash tucks my bra into his pocket, pretending as if this encounter had never happened. He was always the cool, calm, and collected one. I was always—and still am—a giant ball of nerves.

He grabs my hand, leading me out of the room without a word. Not until we make it outside do I get some sense of relief. My chest is tight from holding my breath. Instead of freaking out, as I want to do, Bash laughs. At first, he starts with a light chuckle that turns into loud, guttural laughter that shakes through his body.

I smack him on the arm and shake my head. “I cannot believe you are laughing after what just happened.”

He hooks his arm around me, his muscles flexing against m

y back. “C’mon, Queenie, don’t be so uptight. You have to admit that was pretty damn funny.”

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