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23
Carson
Her white blonde hair is rested against my chest, her tits heaving up and down as she pants, her body damp with sweat, soft and pliant against me.
Mine.
The word settles into my core and calms me. I didn’t realize how desperate I was for some claim on her, some sense of ownership, until now. She kissed me, right there in front of her sister and half the fucking school. She kissed me. I think that’s the first time she’s ever made the first move, to be the one to instigate things.
When I left the hotel the other night, I’d about convinced myself that she’d never speak to me again and the last five days have been hell, as I’ve convinced myself not to railroad her life and take control. She needed to get here on her own.
“I like the new look,” I tell her, resting my chin against the top of her head,
“Thanks,” she giggles and I love the way it sounds on her. Happy and young.
“So what you been up to the last few days?” I ask, trying to sound nonchalant and failing miserably.
Pulling away from me, she sits up and turns to face me, not trying to hide her nakedness from me. “Mainly I sulked and moped.”
A laugh falls from my lips and I sit up, resting my back against the arm of the couch. “Yeah?”
“Yep. Then yesterday I got really angry.”
“At what?” I ask.
“Pretty much everything. Me, my mom and dad. You.”
“Me?” I ask, smiling.
“Yeah you.” Closing her eyes, she pulls in a slow breath. “I like you Carson and that scares the hell out of me. You make me feel weird and warm and I have no idea what to do with that, and I’m mad at you because I was content to exist in my bubble of shame and you wouldn’t let me.”
“I’m not gonna apologize,” I say, smiling, as I reach out and tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear.
“I don’t expect you to. But you need to take off the rose tinted glasses and stop pretending that I’m not a bitch. I am and that’s not because my mom told me to be, that’s just because I really am a bitch.”
“I know you’re a bitch Priss,” I say, tweaking her nipple between my finger and thumb. “You can be as bitchy as you like, to whoever you want, except me and your sister, she doesn’t deserve it and I won’t allow it.”
“You won’t allow it?” she says, arching an eyebrow at me.
“Nope,” I say, launching myself forward and pushing her back down against the couch as I crawl over her, caging her in with my arms and pinning her body down with my own, my hard dick grinding against her wet pussy. “I’ll fuck the bitchiness out of you.”
“That doesn’t sound so bad,” she purrs.
“It will when I don’t let you come, pushing you to the edge over and over and never letting you fall off,” I growl, grinding my hips and letting the tip of my dick push into her.
Her legs lift, wrapping around my back, her heels digging into my ass, urging me deeper, but I don’t move, giving her only the shallowest of thrusts, teasing her.
“Carson,” she whines, lifting her hips up.
“I think you forgot how this works. I’m in control.”
“So be in control, I’m yours,” she says, her words so much more impactful than the blasé way she just offered them.
“Say it again,” I growl.
Her beautiful blue eyes blink up at me, her lips parting slightly as they curve into a grin. “I’m yours,” she whispers.
I slam home, filling her in one hard thrust and claiming her completely, my lips taking hers as I seal her words with a kiss. By the time we peel ourselves free of each other its lunchtime and we’ve missed all our morning classes. Her hair is messy, her makeup smudged, but she’s never looked sexier to me.
