His Cheerleader #3
"Please what?" Carson rasped, his lips trailing down to her collarbone, leaving hot, dark mark after mark on her pale skin. He was branding her, making sure everyone would know she belonged to him. "Tell me what you want. Tell me you want me to fuck you."
"I want you," she gasped, her hips twitching involuntarily against his rigid shaft, desperate for the friction. "I want you so bad. It hurts, Carson. Fucking kiss me AGAIN."
Carson let out a dark, ragged laugh, his dark eyes burning with absolute triumph.
He slid his hand down, his fingers slipping past the waistband of her cheer shorts and digging straight into her soaking wet pussy.
The moment his calloused thumb swiped over her engorged, pulsing clit, a loud, squelching sound filled the quiet, dark hallway.
Lara screamed out, her entire body bucking against his hand as a massive, shattering wave of pleasure threatened to take her over before he even got his clothes off. She was completely at his mercy, a puddle of needy, desperate horniness in the hands of the one man she was supposed to loathe.
The high voltage heat of the hallway vanished with the harsh, buzzing hum of the stadium’s secondary generator kicking back to life. Fluorescent lights flickered on, flooding the concrete corridor with a stark, blinding glare that made Lara wince.
Carson didn’t let her down immediately. He kept his hands locked under her thighs, his chest heaving as he stared down at her, his dark eyes still clouded with heavy, possessive lust. His fingers were damp with her slick wetness, and his thick dick was throbbing violently against her hip.
"Lara," he muttered, his voice thick and rough. "We need to go back to my place. Right fucking now."
Lara’s heart was hammering against her ribs, but the sudden glare of the lights was like a bucket of ice water poured directly over her head.
Reality crashed back into her brain with terrifying force.
She looked down at her unbuttoned top, the dark red flush on her chest, and realized how completely she had just surrendered to him.
She had been begging her enemy, the cocky linebacker she swore she loathed, to fuck her against a wall in the stadium basement.
"Put me down," she whispered, her voice suddenly trembling with a volatile mix of embarrassment and lingering arousal.
"Lara, look at me…"
"I said put me down, Carson!" she snapped, her fierce pride rushing back to protect her.
He slowly let her slide down the wall until her bare feet hit the cold floor.
The moment she was loose, Lara immediately began tugging her cheer top down and smoothing out her skirt, her fingers shaking so badly she could barely manage the fabric.
She refused to look at him, blushing furiously as she tried to erase the evidence of how easily he had broken her down.
"Lara, don't do this. Don't freeze out on me now," Carson growled, stepping toward her. He reached out to grab her wrist, his possessive instincts flaring. "You want me. You just screamed it into my fucking neck."
"Get away from me," she hissed, slapping his hand away. She grabbed her duffel bag from the floor, her chest heaving. "That was a mistake. A massive, disgusting mistake. You took advantage of the situation."
"Took advantage?" Carson echoed, a dangerous, hurt edge cutting through his deep voice. His jaw tightened, his boulder-like shoulders locking up. "You were kissing me back just as hard, Lara. You were soaking wet for me."
"Shut up!" Lara cried, tears of pure frustration stinging the corners of her eyes. The emotional whiplash was tearing her apart. She couldn't handle how much power he suddenly held over her. "Just leave me alone, Carson. Stay the fuck away from me."
She turned on her heel and sprinted down the hallway toward the unlocked security exit, the heavy metal door slamming shut behind her.
By Monday morning, the tension on campus had reached a suffocating peak. Lara spent the entire weekend locked in her apartment, her mind trapped in a vicious loop of Carson’s touch, his rough words, and the humiliating realization that he had completely dismantled her defenses.
When she walked into the student athlete dining hall for lunch, she was on high alert. She kept her head down, clutching her textbook to her chest, trying to make it to a quiet corner table. But before she could get halfway across the room, she heard the loud, booming laughter of the football team.
She involuntarily glanced over toward the central booth. Carson was sitting there, surrounded by his teammates. He looked completely dominant, a king among his peers. But as Lara looked closer, her heart shattered into a million jagged pieces.
Sitting right next to Carson, leaning her head on his massive shoulder, was Chloe—a stunning, legacy cheerleader from the junior varsity squad who had been trying to get Carson’s attention for months.
Chloe was giggling, her hand resting on Carson’s thick bicep.
Carson wasn't pushing her away. He looked distracted, his dark eyes scanning the room, but to Lara, the image was a definitive, agonizing blow.
Of course, Lara thought, a suffocating weight crushing her chest.
He got what he wanted. He broke the untouchable cheer captain, proved he could make me beg, and now he’s right back to his usual self.
The emotional damage was immediate, a cold, sickening ache that made her feel completely disposable.
He hadn't been obsessed; he had just been playing a twisted game to break her pride.
Suddenly, Carson’s eyes found her. The moment he spotted Lara standing across the cafeteria, his entire demeanor changed. He went rigid, pushing Chloe’s hand off his arm instantly as he started to stand up from the booth.
But Lara didn't give him the chance.
With a look of pure, unadulterated heartbreak and fierce anger flashing in her eyes, she turned around and bolted out the double doors of the dining hall.
"Lara! Wait!" Carson’s deep voice roared across the crowded cafeteria, echoing off the high ceilings.
He shoved past his teammates, knocking a tray off the table in his desperate haste to reach her, but by the time he burst through the exit doors into the quad, she was already gone, swallowed up by the crowd of students, leaving him standing in the rain completely devastated.
The rain on the quad was relentless, but Carson didn't feel the cold.
He stood frozen outside the dining hall doors, his large chest heaving as his eyes frantically scanned the sea of umbrellas.
She was gone. The look of pure, shattered betrayal on Lara’s face before she ran was burned into his retinas, ripping through his chest like a physical blade.
He felt a sickening, hollow dread drop into his stomach. She thinks I was using her.
For the next three days, Carson was a ghost on campus.
He skipped his interviews, barely spoke in meetings, and at football practice, his performance was utterly terrifying.
He slammed into the varsity offensive linemen with such unhinged, violent force that the head coach finally blew his whistle, screaming at him to tone it down before he ended someone’s season.
But Carson couldn't stop. The aggression, the frustration, and the absolute desperation were eating him alive.
He hadn't just made a mistake; he had broken the only girl he had ever truly fallen for.
His fierce, protective obsession had completely backfired.
He didn't care about his pride anymore. He didn't care if the whole school saw him drop to his knees. He just needed her to listen.
Late Wednesday night, the rain finally slowed to a mist.
Carson knew the cheer squad had just wrapped up their mandatory choreography session in the auxiliary gym.
He didn't wait in the shadows this time.
He stood right outside the heavy glass double doors of the facility, his massive frame leaned against the brick pillar, ignoring the whispers of the other cheerleaders as they exited the building in small groups.
When Lara finally stepped out, she was wrapped in an oversized university hoodie, her eyes looking tired and rimmed with a faint pink. She was looking down at her phone, her shoulders tight.
The moment she saw his massive boots in her periphery, she stopped dead in her tracks. Her jaw clenched, and she immediately tried to pivot to the left to walk around him.
"Lara, please," Carson intercepted her, his deep voice cracking in a way she had never heard before.
He didn't reach out to grab her—he knew he had lost that right—but he planted his massive body in front of her, his hands held up, open and trembling slightly.
"Just sixty seconds. That’s all I’m asking for. Please."
"Move, Carson," Lara said, her voice dropping into a cold, dead whisper that cut him deeper than any insult ever could. She refused to look into his eyes, her gaze fixed firmly on his chest. "Go back to another whore. I’m sure she’s waiting to stroke your ego some more."
"Fuck the others! I don’t give a single shit about them, Lara!"
Carson roared softly, his voice thick with raw, suffocating emotion.
A few passing students stared, but he didn't care.
He stepped closer, dropping his shoulders, making himself look as small as a 6”3 linebacker possibly could in front of her.
"She sat down at my table for two seconds because her brother is on the scout team. The second I saw you, I shoved her away. I haven’t touched another girl since freshman year because my head has been completely filled with you."
Lara’s breath hitched, her eyes finally snapping up to meet his.
Her chest heaved under her hoodie, her fierce pride fighting against the sudden, agonizing sincerity in his dark eyes.
"You expect me to believe that? You've spent three years torturing me, Carson. You cornered me in the stadium, made me look like an absolute fool, and then—"
"Because I didn't know how else to get you to look at me!"
Carson interrupted, his voice dropping into a desperate, broken plea.
Tears of pure frustration and regret welling in his own eyes as he downed every ounce of his remaining dignity.
He reached down, carefully hovering his large hands over her arms, begging for permission.