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He stills as I adjust to him, watching me closely. If I didn’t know better, I’d think he was waiting to see if I’m okay, but I bite down on my bottom lip and rise my hips to meet his, wrapping my legs around his back. It’s all the signal he needs, and he punches forward, once, twice, three times, each time going deeper. I lock my ankles together and hold on to this disturbingly delicious man as he drills into me.

“So fucking tight,” he groans, dropping his face into the crook of my neck. I sink my teeth into his shoulder and that only seems to spur him on. “So goddamn, fucking, good.”

The rhythm he sets is mesmerizing, different from Royer. He was in constant motion, shifting and turning, preforming chaotic acrobatics. My body could never catch up—was never satisfied. Miller dominates, his focus laser sharp. Every muscle in his body a part of the action. His biceps tense, the line in his forearm creasing as he holds his weight as he pulls almost all the way out before he fucks back inside. Each time is a little more tantalizing, more intense, sending a sharp jolt along my fraying nerves.

He lifts and watches where our bodies meet, the cut muscles of his lower abdomen tensing with each thrust. I close my eyes and hold on to the buildup, the way my body reacts to his. The feeling inches up my spine, flickers across my skin, and burns in the pit of my stomach. His tongue licks into my mouth and he grunts against my tongue, “Come for me, kitten. Let go for once in your goddamn life.”

It's like I needed permission, because once he says it, my nerves pulse and unfurl, clenching around his cock, spreading throughout my body. It feels good; he feels so good, kissing me through my orgasm. It’s surprisingly gentle, although he never stops moving, and when my body stills, the warm rush fading, he picks up his pace and pounds into me like he can’t get deep enough.

I tighten my grip on his body, digging my nails into his back to hold him close. I watch him. His face, the scrunch of his nose, the tension in his jaw, the way his tongue darts out to lick his bottom lip. He’s sexy and possessed. Abandoned and raw. When he pounds in his final thrust, his entire body shudders, starting with a groan erupting from low in his chest.

He pulses inside of me, warm and slick. Filling me in a way I didn’t know existed. After he’s finished, he hovers over me for a long moment, keeping the connection, his eyes holding mine. I reach up and push a lock of hair off his forehead and they shutter, the icy blue returning. He pulls out and rolls off, taking his heat and weight with him.

Absurdly, I cover my breasts and sit up, looking for something to clean off with, but his hand grabs my wrist, and he says, “Don’t.”

I blink and watch as he runs his fingers in the sticky mess between my thighs. He scoops the cum with his fingers and pushes it back inside. It’s the moment I realize he didn’t use a condom and that he’d done it on purpose. The action is foreign, confusing, and a still numbness washes over me. I’m surprised when he drags me close to his body, tucking me under the crook of his arm and engulfing me in his warm, musky scent.

What have I done? What havewedone?

His fingers graze the heated skin of my belly, drawing tiny circles. “Sometimes,” he says suddenly, his voice quiet, “I wish things were different.”

“I always wish things were different.”

He shifts, looking down at me, his normally hard eyes soft. “What if you’d never met Royer? Never fell under his radar and just gone through rush like normal.”

I peer up at him. I’ve replayed this scenario more times than I want to admit, but what is he talking about? “What do you mean?”

“You would’ve been a shoo-in for GE. You would’ve been invited to our parties, come dressed in your tight bikini tops and I would’ve noticed.” He splays his fingers over my breast and sighs. “Things could’ve been different, that’s all.”

His nose nudges mine to give him access to my mouth. My stomach churns, like a million beating butterfly wings. His kiss is gentle, warm, and despite every single reservation, I sink into it—into him.

We stay like this for a while, kissing, touching, dozing off into sleep. I’m not sure how much time passes before he gets out of the bed and redresses. He’s terrifyingly quiet, and the only thing he says after kissing me softly on the forehead is, “Be back at the farm before dawn,” before walking out the door.

Minutes pass and I finally get up. That’s when I see it. The Zeta Sig condom sitting on my bedside table. I stare at the shiny foil for a long moment, trying to process what it means. WhatImean.

I don’t know if there’s an answer.

20

Reagan

I don’t need to see my reflection in the shiny metal elevator doors to know I look like shit. I barely slept, tossing and turning in the unfamiliar bed, thinking about what happened between me and Miller.

What he did to me.

What I let him do.

How good it made me feel.

My entire body aches, inside and out, a reminder of how rough he’d been. How big he felt buried inside of me, the burn from the stretch. All things that should have been a violation but feel like something else entirely every time I think about it—of how Miller felt over me, inside me.

I move to push my hair aside, that habit impossible to stop. Although, for the first time, I’m glad to not have to worry about my hair or clothes. There’s no way I could have put in the effort. It’s just another way guys are lucky.

I didn’t go back to the farm like Miller told me to. I barely made it out of bed. As far as punishments go, I think I’ve taken the worst of it, and I’m willing to risk not going back. For all they know, I slept with Janelle. That should count for something, right?

The elevator doors slide open, and every nerve in my body tenses when I see my former roommate on the other side. She looks worse than I do. Pale. Red, dark-ringed eyes. I’m even surprised she made it out of bed today.

She hesitates before crossing the threshold but ultimately clutches her backpack over her shoulder and her coffee cup in one hand. I want to say something—to check on her—but the words are stuck in my throat.