smoking then. If the stress of the game became too much for him and he almost killed himself for it, like he’s doing now.
“What about it?”
I shake my head at him. “It was stupid then and it’s stupid now.”
His fist tightens in my hair and he finally puts his other hand on me. On my ass; he loves my ass. Or at least, he loves spanking it and worrying and plumping the flesh.
Arrow pulls at my cheek. Hard. “Excuse me?”
But I don’t get deterred; I pull at his sweaty hair in response. “You were and you are.”
“We won that game.”
I know. I was there. He doesn’t know it but still.
“So? Winning doesn’t mean you kill yourself for it. If that’s what you’re doing all the time, all this stress and all this pressure, then how do you enjoy it? The game that you love so much.”
“I don’t play to enjoy the game. I play to win it.”
“So what do you do when you want to have fun?”
“I fuck you.”
I clench my thighs. “So are you going to?”
“Is that why you crawled over to me? All naked and pretty. Because you want to get fucked?”
My channel is pulsing at his rough tone. “Yes. But also to stop you.”
“From killing myself.”
“Yes.” I pull at his hair again. “Because if you wanna kill yourself, I’ll die with you too. Remember?”
His fingers on my body tighten and tighten to the point where it hurts so deliciously. “You’re a goddamn pain in my ass.”
“But will you still kiss me?” I ask, all shy and pretty like a good girl.
And he does.
He kisses me and then he fucks me on the floor and I spread my legs as far as they go and arch my back. I let him take out all his frustration on my body as he grinds into me with his big, fat cock.
But that’s not all he needs me for.
He also needs me to slip sexy little notes into his mailbox at St. Mary’s.
Because the other day, he ordered me to stop or I’m risking being caught flirting with the coach. Not to mention, it’s his rule that he won’t do anything on the school grounds.
Please.
Obviously, I break both his rules so he can break them too, and see that the world doesn’t fall apart when he does.
So I send him little notes about how much I need him and I keep sending them until he sends for me. When I get there, wearing my mustard-colored skirt and my hair tied up in a braid, I find him sitting in his throne-like chair.
He tells me to lock the door first.
Then he tells me to untie my hair and when I do that, he commands, “Show me.”
With my back against the door, I inch up my skirt. I slide my thong off my core and show him the peach between my legs.
He stares at it for a few seconds, his fingers gripping the arm of his chair in a harsh, violent grip before he commands me to play with my pussy.
I do that too until I make a mess of my fingers and my thighs, and until he’s springing from his chair and coming at me. Picking me up, he brings me to his desk and spreads me out like a meal he’s about to consume.
Flipping my skirt up, he enters me in one go and I arch my back.
“But I-I thought you had a rule,” I tell him, scratching his abdomen under his t-shirt as he pounds into me.
“I changed my mind,” he growls, fisting my messy hair. “You need my cock. So I can straighten out your bad girl pussy, bang her into shape.”
Biting my lip, I smile and moan and scratch. “And see? The world is still well and alive around us even if you broke a rule to make me a good girl.”
That makes him pause for a second, his lips parted and swollen from my kisses, his eyes lust-burnt.
“You think you’re so smart, don’t you?” he growls, punctuating those words with a harsh stab of his cock, making my entire body jiggle. “But that’s not what you are, remember?”
I pant, my thighs trembling around his hips. “Arrow…”
Grabbing the edge of his desk over my head, he shoves his cock into me again, inching that heavy piece of furniture up with the force. “Tell me who you are.”
I dig my nails into his stomach when he stops, waiting for my answer. “Your fuck doll.”
“Yeah, so you don’t make the