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It was alarming, but all of the top ones were unquestionably with her, inside of this specific, gorgeous girl. In spite of my best efforts, I was getting too attached.

It was some time later and I hadn’t moved, hadn’t let her budge so much as an inch. Luckily she wasn’t complaining. I decided to push my luck.

I was still punch-drunk from the last round as I dragged my wet, hard again dick up a few inches, pushing in. “You said you wanted me to mess you up,” I rasped into her ear. “You want to be fucked here, prom princess?”

“Anything,” she panted back quietly. “If you want to do it, I want you to do it to me.”

It was all the permission I needed. I worked my painstaking way into her virgin ass. Anal had never been my thing, but I wasn’t strictly against it, particularly as it was another piece of her flesh I got to own first and exclusively, more territory I got to claim, just how I perversely needed it to be with her.

She whimpered and writhed underneath me, and I worried for a few excruciating moments whether I’d have to stop short here, if I was too much for her like this.

But then she said, “Please,” and I was lost. In our own little intimate language I’d learned that when she begged me in just that exact way it meant only one thing, requesting a particular something from me that I was all too happy to give.

“Fucking take it, you little brat,” I growled at her, sinking deeper. “I told you I was going to fill every hole of my little cum slut, and you’re going to fucking take it.” I pulled her hair hard and bottomed out.

I reached between her legs and pinched her clit with two fingers as I fucked her ass with no breaks. I gave it to her rough. She always said if I wanted to do it she wanted me to do it to her, and so far, she’d always meant it. This was no exception.

I felt like an animal. Uncivilized and thoroughly off my leash.

Her body was my territory, and I was proving that fact anywhere I could reach.

I would mark her everywhere.

“When we get home I’m going to stay inside of you till morning,” I grunted at her as I pounded away. “I’m going to ride you all night like a dog. On your hands and knees until they’re rug-burned and bruised. I’m going to fuck your cunt until you can’t walk straight for days.”

The noises she was making were soft, quiet, as she tended to be, but they still told me plenty, and just then she liked what she was hearing. “And you’re going to fucking take it. You’re going to beg.”

I pounded in and out in a heavy drag and lunge, owning her asshole with brutal domination, one hand pinning her down, keeping her steady for the driving motion of my lower body.

The other was busy with sharp, delicate precision on her clit.

She came sobbing, and I followed a stuttering heartbeat later.

Afterward I became achingly tender because I just couldn’t help myself. That’s what she brought out in me: my most savage beast and my most caring lover. I’d been with more women than I’d ever bothered to count, but only she had ever gotten both and to this degree.

And perhaps more worrisome, the acute need for her—her body, her company—was not going away the more we carried on like this. I wasn’t getting my fill so much as I was sowing the seeds of this obsession, not satiating it, instead making it flourish. And even knowing it was not sustainable, it was in fact a disastrously bad idea—she was too fucking young for something permanent; she didn’t even know what all her options were yet—I still couldn’t make myself withdraw, couldn’t make myself resist her pull at all.

Some time later I was cleaning us both up with tissues as she tried to do something with her hair. She’d given up on putting it back up and was just trying to tame it into loose waves down her back. I wondered how she’d explain that to her friends.

I wondered if anyone had noticed that we’d both disappeared at roughly the same time, and she was about to come back looking thoroughly fucked.

I was tucking myself back into my slacks when I saw it.

We hadn’t even closed the fucking door.

Jesus fucking Christ. Anyone could have seen us. We were in the same wing of the school as the packed gymnasium, just a few hallway turns away, and I hadn’t even closed the door, let alone locked it.

What the hell was wrong with me?

She noticed the open door around the same time I did. She looked shocked and appalled. “I’m so sorry, Carter—”

I cut her off, “Do not apologize. This is not on you. I’m the adult here. You don’t get to blame yourself for any of it.”

Her eyes got a bit hard. It wasn’t something I was used to seeing from her, had forgotten she even had that side to her in our recent delirium. “I’m an adult, too. We’re both responsible for what we do together. Deny it all you want, but it’s the truth.”

“That wasn’t my point.” It was an argument for another day. “We’re very lucky we weren’t caught. We can’t take risks like this, okay? From now on, I’m only fucking you at home.”

“Yes, sir,” she said, saluting me.