30
ASPEN
Ican’t take this anymore. I feel like I’m suffocating, a rope wrapped around my throat, tightening with each breath I take.
Making my way through the crowd, I ignore the hateful expressions and hope that no one is going to attack me while I’m in the bathroom. It’s a risk I’m willing to take. I know being anywhere by myself up here is not wise, but right now, I’ll do anything for a few moments of alone time.
The bathroom is empty when I walk inside, and I’ve never been more glad about anything in my life. I catch my reflection in the mirror, and I’m not surprised by how pale I look even with the makeup. I’m exhausted, and all I want to do is go back to my dorm and spend the night like I had planned.
Tearing my eyes away from the girl I barely recognize anymore, I step into one of the bathroom stalls. I hear a sound behind me, but before I can turn around, someone grabs me. With a shriek, I spin around and start fighting immediately, but my wrists are captured with ease, and I’m pinned to the bathroom stall.
“Why the fuck are you here with him?” Quinton growls, inches away from my face. His hot minty breath fans over my cheek, and I sigh in relief.
“Do you think I want to be here? With him, of all people? I hate him. I asked you to get him off my back. I wanted to stay in my room and read, and I definitely didn’t want to wear this dress.”
“Then why the fuck did you?”
“Because your father made me! He sent me this dress and told me not to disappoint him and come to this ball. He even arranged a date for me.”
I can tell Quinton believes me, his anger simmering down a tiny bit, but the murderous gleam in his eyes remains. He seems unhinged, his arm shaking like he is trying not to punch the wall. He looks like he is barely holding on but trying to regain control. Then it dawns on me…control. That’s what he is craving, what he needs from me.
“Are you wearing any panties? I know you’re not wearing a fucking bra.” He grabs the strap of my dress and pulls it down, exposing my breasts to him.
“I couldn’t wear a bra in this dress, and yes, I am wearing panties.”
“Take them off,” he orders.
“Are you serious?”
“Very. Now take off your panties before I rip them to shreds.” Getting impatient, he starts pulling up my dress until it’s bundled around my hips. I pull off my panties, letting them slide down my legs so I can step out of them altogether.
While Quinton watches me, he takes off his tux jacket and hangs it over the stall door before he starts undoing his pants.
“Quinton, we can’t. People will know, and what if someone comes in?”
“The door is locked, and I don’t give a shit who knows what we’re doing.”
He frees his already hard cock and starts stroking it while I stand there with my dress bunched up around my stomach, my naked ass pressed against the stall.
Without warning, he lets go of his dick and grabs me by the hips, lifting me and pushing me against the wall. “Wrap your legs around me and hold my shoulders.”
I barely have time to follow his directions before he lines himself up with my entrance and impales me in one hard thrust. The air swishes out of my lungs, and a sting of pain follows as he gives me only a moment to adjust to his length before he starts fucking me. My nails dig into the fabric of his dress shirt, and I yearn for that connection, that chance to hurt him back.
“Your pussy is mine. Mine to fuck. Mine to tease,” Quinton growls, nipping at my earlobe. Each thrust of his hips is punishing and straddles the line of pain, but there is a niggling of something more. Something warm moves through my core, and I’m growing wetter with each stroke.
Holding me in place with his body, he easily finds my hardened nipple, pinching the nub between two fingers, and a delicious zing of pleasure makes its way through my body.
“Pretend you don’t want me. In fact, pretend for both of us because now that I’ve had a taste of you, I don’t know if I can ever go back.”
His touch becomes rougher, and my thoughts become hazy as he moves inside me, using me as an outlet for his rage. I let my head fall back against the wall, and Quinton swoops in, his mouth on the pulse at my throat in an instant. His woodsy scent surrounds me, filling my lungs with every breath I take.
I never thought I would be the type to crave darkness, but something about him when he’s unhinged and owning me, knowing he holds all the power, excites me.
What is wrong with me?
“I should mark you. Put hickeys all over your neck so everyone knows that you’ve been claimed. What do you think?” His voice is smoke swirling around my head, seeping into my pores. I open my mouth to object, to ask him why he would do something like that, but before I can, his mouth is on my skin, and all that comes out is a moan.
My chest heaves, and that low rolling boil of pleasure in my gut moves outward. Quinton’s mouth is vicious, and he alternates between biting me and soothing the bites with his tongue. That, combined with his deep thrusts, sends me careening toward my climax.