Chapter 35
Guinevere
M y heart hammers in my chest as I feel the cold damp air in the bathroom against my bare skin. Ryker's hot breath ghosts over my sex, making me squirm with anticipation.
He nips at my inner thighs as he works his way up. I can’t hold back my whimpers, my hands grasping together as I feel his hot tongue trace the slick folds of my pussy. He teases me, licking and sucking gently, avoiding my swollen clit, and driving me wild with need.
God, I need his mouth on me right now. He’s been teasing me this whole time, and I’m about to explode.
“Please,” I beg, my voice hoarse with longing. I feel like I’m always begging him.
With a low chuckle, Ryker finally grants me mercy
swirling his tongue around my sensitive bud before sucking it firmly into his mouth. I cry out, my hips bucking against his face as the long-awaited pleasure rips through me.
I can feel his tongue fucking me in time with the relentless circling of my clit, and within moments, I’m climaxing, my body shaking uncontrollably as wave after wave of pleasure washes over me.
As the intense sensations begin to subside, Ryker stands, pressing his hard length against my core. I can feel his cock twitching against me, waiting to plunge deep inside. My body shivers involuntarily. My eyes meet his, darkened with desire and heat.
“What do you want, Rebel?” he asks in a husky tone, making me crave him even more.
“I want you” I tell him as I unabashedly grind my wet, slick pussy against his hardon. “Fuck me.”
Ryker groans, angling my pelvis slightly for easier access.
I lean in, leaving a soft kiss on his lips. He deepens it, and I can feel his tongue slide over mine as we begin a rhythm.
“Fuck, Rebel,” Ryker closes his eyes briefly, and when he opens them, they’re darker than before.
My heart pounds and my breath catches in my throat as Ryker kisses me again, this time much rougher as he begins to press into me.
I can’t help the cry that comes out as my body adjusts to him inside me. This feeling has easily become the best feeling in the world, and I don’t know how I ever lived without it.
Ryker pulls out slowly, and then pushes in again, hitting a deeper spot inside of me. I cry out, my nails digging into his shoulders as he begins to thrust harder. His hands grip my thighs as he drives into me with fierce abandon.
The sound of skin against skin echoes off the bathroom walls, mingling with our heated groans and gasps.
I don’t know how he manages to bring me to the edge so fast each time. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. I need him to fuck me harder. I need more.
“Harder, please,” I pant, wanting to feel him deeper, wilder.
Ryker lets out a predatory growl as he grasps my ass cheeks, lifting me higher as he pounds into me. The rough treatment sends sparks of pleasure shooting through my core and I tighten my legs around his waist, urging him on .
Our bodies glisten with sweat under the harsh lights in the small bathroom, and I feel like I could scream.
I meet each of Ryker's thrusts with one of my own, our pelvises slamming together in a frantic rhythm. I moan loudly, and Ryker does the same.
“Come again for me, baby,” Ryker grunts, his eyes screwed shut in concentration. “I need to feel you coming on my cock.”
My breath hitches as another orgasm builds within me. He feels fucking incredible, rubbing all the right spots inside me and even though I need to come, I don’t want this to end.
My heels dig into Ryker’s ass, urging him deeper as I chase my release.
Then, with a loud cry, I shatter, my body convulsing around his thick length.
“Atta girl,” he says gruffly. “That’s it, Rebel.”
Ryker thrusts a few more times before he stiffens, groaning loudly as he chases his own release. I feel him pulsing inside me, and it’s the most erotic thing I’ve ever felt.
Our pants mix together as we come down from our high. We stay together for a few silent moments, Ryker slumping forward so his forehead meets mine.
Then, gently, he lowers my legs and slowly pulls out of me, gazing at me with dark, satisfied eyes.
I smile up at him, my hair tumbling around my flushed face, pieces sticking to my cheeks and forehead.
“I think we can call it even,” I tease, reaching up to tug playfully at his hair. He chuckles softly, shaking his head.
“How do we always find ourselves in this situation?” he asks with a grin.
“In what situation?” I ask, my head cocking to the side.
He looks around the bathroom and chuckles to himself.
“Fucking in public places,” he smirks. “Is it like, our thing?” he asks teasingly.
I shake my head, unable to keep a giant grin from taking over my face.
“We don’t have a thing,” I state. Ryker’s grin widens .
“I think it’s our thing,” he says, leaving a few small kisses along my neck and nipping my ear before setting a soft peck on my lips. “Get dressed. I’m taking you home.”
I hop off the sink and get dressed quickly.
Ryker isn’t wrong. It does seem to be a recurring thing for us now, having sex in public spaces. Something I have never done and never even thought about doing until I met Ryker.
This is not the way I saw tonight going, mostly because I had no idea Ryker would even be here.
Honestly, I was kind of looking for a reprieve so I could think. I can’t believe I let him rattle me so much, completely distracting me during our presentation.
I’ve never been distracted during class. I worked so hard on that project, and I barely remember even saying anything. I rushed out of the room so quickly; I didn’t even get to hear what Professor Whitely had to say about it.
Did we pass? There’s no way we didn’t. We both spent so much time on it, and something tells me Ryker didn’t really have a choice but to pass.
When we started working together, I thought there was absolutely no way I wouldn’t kill him. I didn’t think I’d get through one day, let alone three whole weeks with him. He was mean, he was callous, he was arrogant. Okay, well, that hasn’t really changed. But the rest?
He's different. He’s kinder, gentler, and I’d like to hope it’s because of me.
A small part of me wondered if it was all bullshit. I’m letting this man who just three-ish weeks ago hated me and treated me like shit use me for sex. I guess I’m using him for sex too, but this time, it felt like more than that.
I know we were in a bathroom, but the way he looked at me, the way his eyes met mine with desire and lust, it almost felt like he wanted more. Which is ridiculous right?
Ryker Steele has never had a girlfriend, so why would I think I’d be the first?
I’m nothing special, but Ryker makes me feel like the most beautiful woman on earth, and I haven’t felt that way in a long time. He feels good, warm, safe, and I find myself hoping to God that nothing ruins this. That nothing ruins us before we even get a chance to explore what we can be.
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My leg moves rapidly, up and down and up and down. My pointer finger taps my outer thigh repeatedly. I feel clammy and uneasy as I look around the small office space.
There’s one window facing main campus, a desk and chair that look like they’ve been there since the school opened its doors, two chairs sitting across the desk, and a large bookshelf against the wall.
There are a few pictures on the wall of the beach and the school, but other than that, there is nothing in here other than the nameplate on the desk that reads Aurora Whitely.
I’ve never been called into an office by a teacher. I’ve always done as I was told, followed the rules, and kept to myself. School is a means to an end.
All I need to do is get my degree and then I’ll be a teacher and my life here at Ellington will be nothing but a distant memory.
But sitting in this stuffy office with Professor Whitely sitting in front of me feels like I’m in some sort of trouble.
We’ve been sitting here for fifteen minutes now making small talk and for a moment, I thought that might be all she wanted to do. We do get along great in class, and she can’t be much older than me. But it would still be odd for her to ask me to come to her office just to chat.
My hair stands on my arms and a tingle of anticipation shoots down my spine, just like it always does when Ryker’s around now. It’s like my body can sense him.
Professor Whitely’s face lights up as she looks passed me to the door. I don’t even turn around.
Ryker strolls into the office looking as drop dead gorgeous as he always does in black joggers and an Ellington Dodgers sweatshirt. A strand of his black hair hangs down on his forehead and when his green eyes land on me, they soften just a bit. He takes the seat next to me, dropping his bag on the floor beside him.
My heart pounds and I have to remind myself that we’re not alone and I can’t crawl on top of him.
“Well, let’s get to it then,” Professor Whitely says, a small smile on her face. “You guys ran out before I could give you a grade.”
My cheeks heat, remembering why I ran out so quickly. Ashton had just threatened me for Ryker beating his ass, and I was so consumed with anger toward Ryker that I didn’t even want to look at him.
Then, Ryker fucked me until I came in the chemistry classroom. The memory causes a shiver to run down my spine and my thighs to clench. Jesus, get it together, Gwen.
“Honestly, I had my doubts that this would work. Of course, I wanted it to work out. But with the way you two argued, I wasn’t sure either of you would last,” she shrugs, an amused look on her face.
“But you surprised me. Your presentation was flawless, you should be proud of yourselves. I’ve given you both an A. Great job.”
This isn’t exactly what I was expecting when Professor Whitely emailed me this morning for a meeting. I thought she was going to lecture me about running out.
I’m honestly just as surprised as she is. I thought for sure Ryker and I would give up and we’d fail the project because we couldn’t get past our own shit. But we did it. We survived, and we freaking passed.
Not that I really need to worry about my grades. I have straight A’s and a 4.0 GPA. I was a bit afraid that if Ryker couldn’t get his shit together, he’d make us fail and my GPA would drop.
My mother would have been understanding. She’s never really been the type of mom to tell me I need to pass every one of my classes with an A. My father on the other hand, he’s a perfectionist.
He always wanted the best for me and thought that since he got good grades and a perfect GPA at Ellington that I had to do the same. He’d turned from the playful, fun dad, to the meticulous, strict parent by the time I hit seventh grade.
My mom is a smart woman, she went to college and got her bachelor’s in writing. When I was little, she’d always be writing, and I thought that it was the coolest thing in the world. But her parents weren’t as strict as dad’s. They didn’t push her to get perfect grades and participate in extracurriculars, and she turned out just fine.
Because of my father’s high expectations, I was always under so much pressure to be perfect, to never let my grades slip. I missed out on a lot of my teenage years due to studying which is probably why I’m not like a normal college kid who loves to party.
I wipe my clammy palms on my thighs and let out a breath I didn’t even realize I was holding.
A small chuckle leaves my lips as I look to Ryker who is already staring at me with a wide grin. I want to jump out of my seat and hug him. I want to kiss him and feel his strong body against mine.
Something flashes in Ryker’s eyes. A mix of lust and yearning, and I feel it too. The need to feel him courses through my veins like a wildfire.
My phone begins to ring in my bag causing me to jump and pulling me out of my thoughts.
“I’m sorry,” I start, pulling the cellphone out of my bag, seeing my mother’s name on the screen. I let it go to voicemail, but then I see she’s tried to call five times already.
My stomach drops and my heartbeat accelerates. She never calls me this many times in a row just to say hi. Something’s wrong.
Looking up from my phone, I see Ryker’s and Professor Whitely’s gazes set on me. I’m sure my face has turned a ghostly white and they’re probably wondering what happened in between our conversation and me looking at my phone.
I don’t have time to explain. I need to call mom back to make sure she’s okay. She’d only blow up my phone during the day for an emergency. Is she okay? Did something happen to her? My head starts going through all of the worst-case scenarios.
Ryker watches me intensely as I stand up from my seat slowly, grabbing my bag off the floor and slinging it over my shoulder. I feel like I’m moving at the pace of a snail.
“I’m sorry, I have to take this. Thank you, Professor Whitely.”
She smiles politely and nods. I give one last look to Ryker, his brows are pulled together in curiosity, and somehow that look makes him even hotter, if that’s possible.
I have to force myself to look away and walk out of the room on shaky legs.