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I bite my lip at his words, at the reminder of the words that I said to him in the library that day. “Why?”
Instead of answering me, he does the thing that he just said he would. Detaching himself from me, he picks me up, sets me down on the floor, and spins me around, bending me over the table, over the open notebooks.
I grip one of them, fisting and crumpling the paper and look back, “Atlas, I –”
He cuts off my words by entering me again. Only this time he’s much deeper and he feels much bigger. My spine arches in response and he comes down at me, covering my back with his panting chest.
“Because I don’t think we should waste time,” he rasps, answering my question from earlier, his jabs short and fast again. “I think we should get back to it.”
“G-Get back to what?”
He grabs my hair in his fist, his dick still moving inside of me, as he whispers, “Studying.”
“What?”
“Because I want you to get an A next time,” he growls, pulling at my hair, stretching my neck. That stretch translates to a tight clench in my pussy and he growls, his other hand squeezing my waist. I gasp out his name, making him growl again, before he continues, “And you know why I want you to get an A, Penelope?”
“Why?”
He waits for the course of three strokes. The three strokes that bring me so, so close to the edge. That bring me right there where I want to fall, where I want to fly and I can’t wait.
I can’t wait for him to push me off this cliff so I can spread my wings.
But he doesn’t.
He goes back to slow and lazy strokes as that hand on my waist moves. It gropes and squeezes my thighs, my ass before it makes its way down to the crease.
Between my ass.
And it’s not as if all he does when he gets there, between my ass cheeks, is go up and down the length, no. He hones in and circles my hole with his thumb. Slowly and methodically.
Hypnotically even.
Because as much as his thumb down there scares me, I can’t help how wet I get.
I can’t help panting and turning my head to the side to watch him with wide eyes.
His lips stretch up on one side as he says, “Because I want this.” To emphasize what he means, he puts pressure on it, my hole, with his thumb as if wanting entry. I tense up and his lips stretch up even more. “I want in here, Penelope.”
My channel spasms. “You want my a-ass?”
“Fuck yes,” he rasps, watching me back. “I want your ass. I want to fuck it like I’m fucking your pussy. I want to fuck it and wreck it and make you come while I’m fucking it. While I’m wrecking the fuck out of it.”
His words make me roll my head back and forth on his shoulder. “But I think… I think it’ll hurt.”
He groans at my words and his smooth pacing falters. But he recovers quickly and says, “Yeah, it will. It will hurt so good. It will hurt because I’m too big and your asshole is too small. It’ll hurt my dick and it’ll hurt your ass. But not more than you can handle. Not more than we can handle.”
I moan, my pussy gushing at his graphic words. “I’m scared.”
He kisses my hair. “I know, baby.” His thumb on my ass, pushing harder. “But I’ve got you.”
I don’t even have to think about it after that.
After the words he’s just spoken.
I know he’s got me.
I know he’ll take care of me. He took care of me when we had sex the first time, not very long ago, and he’s taken care of me every time since. And I know he will take care with this as well. So it’s an easy answer for me when he asks, “Will you, Penelope? Will you be a good girl and focus and study hard?”
“Yes.”
“Yeah? Will you get an A so I can fuck your ass?”
“God, yes.”
I’ll do anything. Anything at all right now. Whatever he wants me to. And so when he tells me to focus on the notebook beside me, I do it. When he tells me to read the paragraph out loud, I do that too. I read the equations, the solutions, the diagrams, everything.
And when he tells me to come, I do that too.
It’s that easy with him.
So easy.
I never thought things would be easy for a girl like me. Even before I was diagnosed, I knew I was different. I was an outsider.
I mean I still am. To my other classmates, to my parents who are so not happy about me dating a guy. They think it’s going to take my focus away from my studies when I’m barely holding it together.
