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I bite at my bottom lip as she rolls against me again, trying my best not to moan like one of the horny college boys who fill the room.
I’m able to keep an eye on her and the people surrounding us. I don’t think any of them pose a real threat, but jealousy swims off one guy to my left. I turn my attention fully to him, gripping a handful of her hair a little tighter because the whimper of need she releases makes me harder. I lock eyes with Blaine, that douchey kid who followed her to the house with those other two guys. She spent that day staring at me, livid, but he spent it watching her, trying to make sure she was okay. It was clear then that he wanted her, but the guy is too soft for my girl. She doesn’t want to be doted on. She wants to be mistreated, fucked hard, told how much of a whore she is before she comes. She wants a man ravenous, as greedy for her cunt as she is for his cock, not a man who stops and checks if she’s okay every time she makes a noise while being fucked.
I lick up her neck, maintaining eye contact with him. At least the boy is smart enough to look away, shifting the girl in his arms around so his back is to us.
“You’re mean,” she says, somehow catching what I just did. “Can we get out of here?”
“Not until you come.”
Her eyes widen, darting back and forth between mine, as if trying to gauge if I’m being honest.
Her hips roll again, and I know even with tights and panties on she’s not going to hesitate to take what she needs. I swear to God my cock is leaking in my jeans as she doubles her efforts.
I cup her ass, my fingers on either side, pulling at her tights until they rip right up the center.
She’s hot and slick. I know her skirt is just barely long enough with her leg hiked up over my hip to hide my fingers when I slip them inside of her.
“Oh God,” she pants against my neck, her pussy clamping down on my fingers.
She rolls again, only managing half of the movement before she falls apart in my arms. I bite at the skin of her neck as she jerks in my arms. She’s a fucking goddess, and a part of me wants to kill every man in this room who might have caught a glimpse of what just happened.
She freezes against me as I pull my fingers from inside her, her eyes locked on mine as I lift them to her mouth.
“Jesus, I want one,” a girl says loud enough to be heard beside us as Alani cleans her own cum from my fingers.
Alani smiles around them, nipping at the tip of one when I pull back.
“Ready to get out of here?”
She nods, her tongue sneaking out to lick her lips.
I grip her hand, not willing to risk her changing her mind and trying to dart away. She looks at me weirdly when I open the passenger side door of my truck.
She seems to be battling some type of internal war, but she caves, crawling inside. I get a glimpse of bare skin through the hole in her tights. There’s a very real chance I may just have to flip her to her stomach right here on the street and fuck her in my truck just to take the edge off.
“Can you take me back to my dorm?” she asks the second I climb in behind the driver’s seat.
“You aren’t staying on campus.”
She scoffs.
I turn toward her, my hand reaching out and clamping her jaw so she doesn’t have the chance to look away from me.
“You are fucking mine. Do you understand?”
She winces, causing herself pain when she tries to pull her face away.
“Since when?” she growls.
“Since the first fucking time I saw you.”
I think a part of me knew it even then, but I’m a stubborn motherfucker. It’s one of those character flaws I couldn’t get rid of when I became a new man.
“You’ll do what the fuck I say when I say it. I work too goddamned much to accommodate someone else’s schedule. I expected you to be at the house when I got back, Alani, and it doesn’t make me very happy that I had to track your ass down here.”
She narrows her eyes at me, and my cock kicks in my jeans at the possibility of her challenging me.
“You didn’t so much as fucking say goodbye.” There’s a hint of an emotion other than anger in her tone.
I hurt her feelings. I can see how my taking off looked. I’m also self-aware enough to know that I didn’t give her the means to contact me and get a better understanding of what was going on.
