7. Chapter 7
Chapter 7
Anastasia
" S o she's a law student whose whole personality is the color pink?" My voice drips with disdain as I stare at the cover of the light-hearted comedy.
"And she kicks some ass in court. I figured you, of all people, would be thrilled to see a woman in power," Elijah snaps, throwing a pillow at me with an exaggerated sigh.
I flinch slightly, the motion sharp, and then curl up next to Walker on the bed, though it feels like my mind is elsewhere entirely. Megan pops a Milk Dud into her mouth, chewing thoughtfully as she eyes me with that signature knowing smile.
"I can appreciate a woman more than Ana can. Play it," she teases, her voice light but sharp with something I can't quite place.
Megan's voice rings in my ears, but it's hard to focus. My head is still spinning, the library, Noah, his touch, everything feels like it’s echoing in my body, refusing to settle. I should be present here, in this moment, but all I can think about is what happened earlier. The quiet tension, the pressure between us, and the way my skin still tingles where his hand brushed me.
Megan shifts, her ease in her own skin a stark contrast to the confusion spiraling in mine. Though rooted in her academics, the one thing Megan’s parents have failed to accept is her preference for women. At home, she hides her truth, but here, it’s obvious she leans toward the feminine side of her sexuality. It’s a guarded secret, but for some reason, today, it feels like the most obvious thing in the room.
"I guess I’m just not in the mood for movies," I mutter, my words barely a whisper, my voice distant even to myself.
Still shaken from my interaction with Noah, seeing Walker only an hour later feels like a slap to the face. I spent an extra twenty minutes in the shower, scrubbing at my skin like I could somehow wash away the guilt.
Guilt that feels almost ridiculous, considering how good Noah’s hands felt on me.
Now, sitting next to Walker on my bed, the guilt tightens in my chest, making it hard to breathe. How could I have let Noah touch me like that? How could I have so eagerly responded to him? The idea of crawling into Walker’s lap, of grinding against him the way I had Noah, feels absurd, almost shameful.
"Even though I’m here?" Walker’s voice breaks through the fog of my thoughts, his hand slipping into mine. He gently rolls his thumb over my knuckles, a gesture meant to reassure, but it only makes the storm inside me swirl faster.
I lean into him, trying to calm the chaos in my head, giving him the attention I know he came here for.
He’s safe.
He’s not my teacher.
This is good.
The words feel hollow as they echo in my mind.
"Fine," I hiss, the tension still hanging between us. I try to shake it off, to make it feel real, to convince myself this is okay. Giggling, I force the sound from my throat as Walker pokes my side, and I point to the projector, the distraction a welcome reprieve.
"Play the damn movie," I say, hoping the normalcy of it will somehow quiet the war waging inside me.
Waking to the sound of the movie's end credits rolling, for a moment, I forget where I am. Walker’s eyes are locked on the screen, his expression unreadable. Slowly, I pull my head up from his chest, trying to shake off the haze of sleep. I look around, searching for Elijah and Megan, but they’re nowhere to be found. The confusion twists in my stomach, and I look at Walker, hoping for some clarity.
"Elijah was falling asleep halfway through, so Megan walked him back to his dorm," he explains with a casual shrug. "Based on how long she’s been gone, I think she decided to give us some alone time."
The smile he gives me feels warm, but there's an edge I can’t quite place. I grab my phone, scrolling through Megan's texts. A few eggplant emojis catch my eye, and my cheeks flush with a sudden rush of embarrassment.
"I guess you're right," I mutter, biting my lip as I try to ignore the uncomfortable knot tightening in my chest. "I didn’t realize how tired I was. You didn’t have to stay here and watch the whole movie while I slept."
"I don’t mind," Walker replies with a smile, his voice low and easy. "Plus, you’re awake now." His gaze shifts toward me, sly and knowing. "And we’re alone."
The warmth of his hand slides along my lower stomach, a touch that sends a jolt of nerves through me. It’s familiar, but it’s also something more, something that feels like a dangerous echo of the past. The mix of nerves and the raw, almost desperate, desire to be touched rises in me.
This is good.
This is what I should be going after.
The thought doesn’t feel right, but I can’t shake it.
"We are alone," I whisper, my voice barely a breath. "And I’d hate for Megan’s sacrifice of staying in Elijah’s messy-ass dorm to go to waste-"
But before I can finish, his lips are on mine, cutting off my words with a slow, deliberate kiss. It’s tender, almost too gentle, but the heat behind it sends a wave crashing through me.
I should pull back.
I should stop this before it goes any further.
But the way his lips move against mine, the way my body responds without thinking, it all feels too damn good.
His hand slides from my lower stomach to the waistband of my soft bedtime shorts, his touch deliberate and slow. I catch my breath as his fingers dip lower, gliding over my sensitive folds, each movement making my pulse quicken. His touch teases, hovering just at the edge of my entrance.
My gaze locks on his lips, and, without thinking, I tug him closer, pulling him until he’s leaning over me, his weight pressing down, so close, I can feel his breath. Pulling away from the kiss, a soft groan escapes his throat, his hand slipping from my underwear, leaving a trail of my slickness up my stomach.
"Guess I should have started with some more foreplay-"
"Give me your hand," I whisper, my voice barely audible.
Without hesitation, his hand finds mine, and I guide it, his fingers trembling slightly as they land in my mouth. I slowly lick up the sides of his middle and ring finger, the heat of his skin against my tongue making my breath hitch. His eyes go wide, watching every movement as I savor the taste. Once I’m done, I urge his hand back down, my pulse quickening as he teases my entrance, the eagerness in his touch now undeniable.
"Tell me if it hurts-"
"Who said I don’t like a little pain?" I snap, my words laced with defiance. "Tick tock, Walker-"
His fingers slide inside of me, cutting off my taunt as a sharp gasp escapes my lips. The pleasure surges, and I throw my head back, eyes shutting to drown in the sensation of his slick fingers moving in and out of me. The stir of blood between his legs presses against my thigh, igniting a new heat within me.
"H-how does it feel?"
God, he’s so careful.
"Don't worry about me," I whisper, my voice barely steady. "It feels good."
Good is generous.
He struggles to find a rhythm, moving slowly, in and out of me, each motion deliberate as if he’s afraid I’ll break. But with each careful movement, the buzz of eagerness begins to fade, and my thoughts grow hazy, the need for more intensifying. It’s getting harder to keep my eyes on Walker as he focuses so intently on the action, his every breath mingling with the tension building between us.
I force my eyes shut, my mind slipping back to the memory of the interaction in the library. Reluctantly, that image becomes the only thing fueling the slickness between my legs. My gasps and moans escape freely, each breath shaky as Noah’s hungry eyes and painful touch flood me with heat. I rock my hips into Walker’s fingers, the friction sending warmth pooling in my lower stomach. His fingers falter for a moment, then he picks up the pace, urgency creeping into his movements as I drown in the sensations, unable to focus on anything but the raw intensity between us.
"Fuck, you're getting really wet," Walker whispers, his voice thick with desire.
Sadly, not because of you.
As much as I don’t want to admit it, every time Walker makes a noise, it pulls me further from the memory of Noah, making it harder to stay lost in the feeling of his fingers, which seem like a sad attempt at edging me. I bite my lip, fighting the urge to scream in frustration.
"Go harder if you want," I whisper, my hands trailing up the sides of my body where Noah’s touch still lingers. "As hard as you want."
As hard as I think Noah would have gone.
My mind drifts back to the feeling of his cock rubbing against me, the memory of it making the pressure inside me build. A climax is creeping closer, and I can feel it tightening in my core.
"Mmm," I groan, the pleasure coursing through me. "Just like that."
The way he grabbed my hips. The way he forced me to give in to his demands. The thought of his tongue slowly trailing up and down my clit…
"Fuck," I moan, unable to stop myself. "Just like that, Noah-"
The words slip out before I can stop them, and like a light switch flicking on, my eyes snap open, meeting Walker’s dazed expression.
"Noah?" He pauses, his voice sharp with confusion. Slowly, he slides his fingers out of me, creating a cold space between us, as all the sexual tension seems to evaporate into the air. "Who the hell is Noah?"
I bite my lip, scrambling for an excuse, but nothing feels right.
"An ex?" I mutter, rubbing the back of my neck. "A recent ex-"
"Wait, were you thinking about him while I was fingering you?" Walker’s voice is edged with annoyance.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
"No," I stutter, panic creeping in. "I just haven’t been touched in so long, and the last person to touch me was him-"
It’s not entirely a lie.
"I’m sorry," I add quickly, trying to defuse the situation. "Feelings just… arose, and I must have spoken out of habit-"
"Is that why you were struggling to get aroused?" Walker asks, his voice tight with hurt. "Because I’m not him?"
His words land like a punch. Walker looks more crushed than angry, like I’ve kicked him, the hurt radiating off of him.
"Walker, I wasn’t struggling-"
"So then, why close your eyes to avoid looking at me?" His voice snaps, the pain sharper now. "That’s what you were doing, right? Imagining it was him touching you?"
I swallow hard, the heat rising in my chest.
"Listen, Walker, the breakup is recent, and he knew my body so well-"
Even in his prime, Cole’s touch never haunted me like this. Noah has taken residence in my mind in ways I wish he hadn’t.
"Well, maybe you can text him and have him finish you off," Walker’s voice hides the hurt beneath the words. "I have homework to do."
He slides off the bed, grabbing his bag, but pauses. He pulls a bottle of wine from the bag, tossing it on the bed with a sharp motion. "Maybe I should’ve started with that. Might have made what you said feel a little better."
He heads for the door, and I scramble to find any excuse for my actions.
"Is this the last time I’m going to see you outside of class?"
His hand lingers on the door, and he pauses, resting his forehead against it.
"I really wanted to give you a chance, Ana-"
"Then let me try again," I blurt, my voice cracking. Grabbing the bottle, I approach him, the tension between us thickening with every step. I poke his back with the point of the bottle, and he turns just enough to meet my gaze.
"I can’t excuse my fuck up, but clearly, my ex isn’t here," I say, tugging his hand and pulling him back toward the bed. "Open this bottle with me and let me show you that I’m thinking about you , no one else."
He hesitates, his mind clearly torn, but there’s something in his expression that softens, even if only a little.
"Ana-"
I don’t have time to wait. Words won’t fix this. Maybe actions will.
"Let me prove to you that my focus is on you and only you," I plead, my voice low and desperate.
"Ana, you don’t have to-"
Tossing the wine onto the bed, I close the space between us, taking matters into my own hands.
"Walker," I hiss, my breath shaky. "Close your mouth and just enjoy this."
Lowering myself to my knees before he can protest, my fingers tremble as they fumble with his belt, quickly giving him a clear idea of where this is heading. His anger slips away, replaced by a deeper need, the desire to feel my lips on his cock outweighing everything else, my screw-up forgotten. I can already feel the blood rushing behind his pants, the pressure building, and I tease him with soft, lingering kisses up and down his length, just above the fabric of his pants.
"I'm sorry, Walker," I whisper, my voice almost childlike in its innocence. "I'm so sorry."
In most situations, I wouldn’t stoop this low, wouldn’t resort to giving a man head just to make things right. But this isn’t like most situations. My ex is prowling around campus, ready to drag my name through the mud. The last thing I need is for anyone to put together Mr. Ackerman’s association with Noah’s name. Thankfully, most professors here are so obsessed with formalities that they don’t give students the chance to dig into their full identities.
It’s the only shield I’ve got.
Tilting my chin up, I look at him through the most innocent doe eyes I can muster. As he bites his lip, it’s clear he’s made his decision.
"Well, don’t stop now."
I flash him a sly grin, my fingers already working to unlatch his belt. I slide the zipper down his pants, his cock confined behind his boxers. My eyes flick over him quickly, assessing his size.
It’s nothing extraordinary, just average.
No matter, it’ll be easy to give him the pleasure he’s craving.
With a slow, deliberate movement, I grip the hem of his boxers with my teeth, pulling them down, revealing his need. My breath catches as I take in the sight of him, but it’s his hand that surprises me. He grabs a fistful of my hair, pulling it back to expose my face, his eyes dark with anticipation. He’s waiting, but not for words. He’s waiting for my apology.
Wrapping my lips around the head of his cock, the salty precum spreads across my tongue. Watching as his head falls back, a soft groan escapes his lips, and I take my time, dragging my tongue up and down his shaft, savoring every inch of him. When I reach his sensitive tip again, I pause, teasing him before slowly moving back up.
His hands tighten in my hair, urging me down, pulling me further as his breath hitches. As I reach the base, I feel him slam into the back of my throat, the sudden force taking me by surprise. I choke on him, my body reacting out of instinct, but I don't pull away.
I gag on him from the force of his thrust, the sound of it mixed with a low groan from him as he feels my clear discomfort. The spit drips down the sides of my mouth, the wetness pooling on my chin. His grip on my hair falters for just a moment before he switches, his hands gripping the sides of my face, holding me still.
With no warning, he takes full control, thrusting his hips forward, his length pounding into the back of my throat with unforgiving force. Losing any sense of control, the pressure builds.
This isn’t just for his pleasure anymore.
It’s not about me at all.
He wants me to be uncomfortable.
He wants me to feel every ounce of what I’ve done.
"Are you thinking about Noah now?" His voice is dark, taunting, even though I’ve been trying to reassure him.
But nothing’s enough.
He needs more.
His ego demands it.
Gagging repeatedly, what started as a blowjob has swiftly turned into Walker forcefully taking control, his actions aimed at proving a point. I struggle to pull away, but he shoves my head back down with relentless force. My hands grip his tightly, desperate for him to stop, but he ignores my pleas, the pressure on my throat growing unbearable. Each thrust leaves me sore, my throat raw and battered from his unyielding demand.
"W-Walker," my words barely register, slipping out incoherently, but he ignores them completely.
"Yeah, keep taking my cock, Ana," he urges, his grip tightening on the sides of my face, his hands forcing my head to move along his cock with cruel precision. "Keep choking on me. Hard to think about Noah when you’re gagging on me, huh?"
I can't stop this.
He won't let me stop.
What started as teasing shifts into something darker, fear crawling up my spine.
Trying to pull away with more force, he yanks my hair, the pain making me whimper.
"Did that hurt, Ana?" he murmurs, a twisted edge to his voice. "I wonder how hard I can pound into that throat before you're screaming in pain."
Jesus Christ.
Am I being assaulted?
I scream, struggling to take his length in my mouth, and with all the strength I can muster, I pull away forcefully. A sharp pain rips through my scalp, some strands of my hair still tangled around his fingers. My body crashes to the floor, my ass hitting hard as I scramble back. I cough, wiping the spit from my lips, my whole body trembling.
"J-Jesus, Walker, what the fuck?" I yell, my voice a mix of anger and desperation. "Did you not see me trying to get you to stop?" "I thought-"
"You thought what?" I snap, my anger rising. "Look at your hand. My hair is still wrapped around your finger," I yell, my voice hoarse from the swelling already setting in.
"Fuck," he hisses, tugging up his pants. "I must’ve gotten carried away-"
"Really?" I scoff. "What in the hell made you think forcing me to be skull-fucked on the first date was a good idea?"
"Cole said-"
He shuts his mouth instantly as my eyes lock on him, filled with fury.
"Cole? Cole Marlins?" I hiss, the name like acid in my mouth. "As in my ex?"
He falls silent, the hardness in his pants disappearing within seconds."Did you talk to me because of Cole?" I snap, pushing him. "Did you do all of this because of Cole?"
Slowly, he backs away, fixing his pants.
"No, don’t get quiet now, Walker. Please, do enlighten me-"
"Cole said you liked being handled like that," Walker snaps back. "He said you like being scared. I tried being gentle, and it didn’t work, so I thought maybe-"
"Are you friends with him?" I demand. Standing across from Walker with my arms crossed, he shakes his head.
"We have mutual friends," Walker sighs. "He said so many awful things about you, but I saw you around campus and wanted to form my own opinion." Pinching the bridge of his nose, he exhales deeply. "But I let Cole get in my head about what you wanted. Clearly, he just wanted to screw you over for being his ex, and me for choosing to look past what he said and still pursue you-"
Unsure how to feel, I pull the strands of my hair from his fingers.
"Well, I hope it was worth it."
"Ana, I didn’t-"
"You could’ve asked me," I reply, my voice hoarse. "What you did, Walker… it scared the hell out of me."
"I wasn’t trying-"
"I need time to think about what just happened," I hiss, stepping back. "Just go."
He looks pained, regret clouding his expression.
Grabbing his bag, he rubs the back of his neck, clearly struggling.
"I’ll make this up to you, Ana," he whispers, his voice heavy with regret. "I promise I’ll-"
"Time, Walker," I whisper, my voice shaking. "I need time to think, and I can’t do that with you here."
He says nothing else, just nods before making his swift exit.
Finally, I let out a sob, my emotions pouring out all at once, my eyes drifting to the wine bottle.
I guess I’ve found my therapy for what just happened.