Page 37 of Notorious Man on Campus

“Let’s go.” I don’t ask him where as he takes my hand and we run across the grass toward the wing where our rooms are. “Which one is yours?”

I point to the sliding doors second from the end and he pulls me in that direction the last twenty yards without slowing down, as if any loss of momentum would break the connection, the driving need to go forward to finally consume each other, to have everything there is to take and give.

I give him the key and he opens the door. I slip inside the darkness and he follows me, sliding the door closed behind us. When I go to switch on the light, he stops me.

“No. Don’t.” I don’t ask why because I know. We’re like illicit lovers stealing a forbidden night of bliss under cover of darkness. It shouldn’t be like that, but I know how he feels about his brother, know how he feels about relationships, and how he refuses to feel about me, so I don’t question or protest. I want him right now, right here, more than anything else in the world.

Live in the moment. Take what you can. Then if it doesn’t work out, move on. And whatever you do, Nyla, don’t ever depend on anyone but yourself, especially not rich people like the Blanicks. Words of wisdom from my mother. Is she right? Yes and no.

He comes up behind me and wraps his arms around me, moving his hands up my torso to my breasts, cupping them, lifting them, kneading them, circling his thumbs over my hyper sensitive nipples.

“That feels so, so good. You’re so—” He flips me around to face him and toys with my ass, pressing his dizzyingly large cock against me while I arch against him, helplessly needy for what he has, for everything he has, as if he was made for me exclusively and no one else matches or measures up. That’s how I feel. He whispers in my ear, nibbling my earlobe, making me shiver.

“I’ve wanted to touch you all night, to rip this dress off you and see you, feel you, taste you, drive my cock inside you and explore every molecule of your body while I make you come. While I watch you go over the edge into orgasm after orgasm, feel your pussy sucking me inside you—”

“Brick, please.” I take his face in my hands because I love touching his face, love the feel of his stubble on my palms, would love to feel that stubble against the sensitive skin of my thighs and around my mound again.

“Please?” I feel his smile more than see it and giddiness overtakes me. I kiss him deep and thorough and fast. He fists my hair, holding my lips against his, devouring my mouth as he scrapes his tongue across my teeth. The jittery feeling in my belly has nothing to do with food and everything to do with need. My panties are so wet.

He pulls my mouth from his, still holding my hair, his face still close to mine.

“I want to see your face when you cream all over my fingers.” His voice is raspy and urgent and my chest heaves with excitement, my heart palpitating and my stomach tumbling like I’m racing to some enormous impact. “I going to finger fuck you. To start the night.”

His hands move down under the hem of my dress to prove his words, slipping under my panties and sliding between my thighs in a delicious nerve-tingling move.

“Oh my God. Brick.” I close my eyes as he moves his fingers, slowly, torturously, and presses me backwards until I hit the edge of the bed. He pushes me back and comes down on top of me.

“It’s going to be a long night, Nyla, and I promise you will lose count of how many times you come.” His warm breath tickles the fine hairs of my ear. My nerves spark and I arch into his fingers and reach for his zipper and the long hard bulge of his cock.

“I want you so much. You have no idea,” I say.

A low laugh rumbles from his throat. “Oh, I think I do. You’re dripping wet for me.” He glides his finger from the bottom to the top of my clit as his intense eyes watch mine. I can’t imagine dragging my gaze from his, can’t imagine wanting to ever look away. And I don’t know if I could because he has me.

“Tell me how it feels,” he says as he circles his thumb around my swollen clit and I writhe under his touch, whimpering because it’s all I can manage. He licks his tongue across the seam of my lips. “Talk, Nyla. Tell me how you feel.”

“I… feel like.. the world could end and I wouldn’t care, like every nerve in my body is centered on whatever spot you touch. Like I’m on the edge …”

He covers my mouth with his and presses hard on my clit, pinching and then stroking. I call out and buck my hips, a scream lost in his mouth against mine, as ecstasy sparks and explodes through my body. My hips go wild, moving up and down against his fingers as aftershocks of orgasmic explosions rock me. But he doesn’t stop. When I think my heart is going to jump from my chest with frantic beating, he moves his fingers to my folds and then my thighs and kisses me.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, Nyla, especially when you come, especially when you say my name,” he whispers.

I open my eyes, not even aware that I’d closed them, and bring my hands to his face, to his beautiful, precious, handsome-beyond-explanation face.

“Brick, you’re amazing and generous and I—”

“We’re not finished.” He cuts me off and I’m not sure what I was going to say, but I feel him tense up. Was I going to tell him I love him? Maybe I was. The idea should make me shiver with horror, but the only shiver I feel is between my legs where the bulge in his pants presses deliciously against my pussy.

“I’m still throbbing. I need to touch you” I say instead.

He smiles, kisses my mouth quickly yet possessively and then lifts himself off me, his arms bulging under his shirt and I wonder if he’ll rip it open Incredible Hulk style.

He gets off the bed and starts undressing and I rise up on my elbows to watch because it’s my fantasy coming true, to have total freedom to look and drool as much as I want at Brick’s naked body. I’ve seen his naked chest before, but only glimpses, never able to gawk like I’m doing now as he discards his shirt and tie.

“You look like a starving girl eyeing her next meal,” he says.

“Funny, that’s what I feel like.”

“How about if you take your clothes off too? Or did you want me to rip them from you?” He arches one brow and I know it’s not an idle threat, can feel the energy beneath his casual voice, the vibration of need humming in the air between us. I lift the dress over my head and unhook my bra. He stops dead still in the act of unbuttoning his pants and watches me.