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She moaned into my mouth when I rolled my hips against hers; the sound sending a vicious thrill through my veins. It wasn’t soft or sweet. It was raw, consuming.

Iris Evans didn’t submit—she fought. And fuck if that didn’t make this even better.

Her fingers dug into my hair, nails scraping against my scalp as she tilted her head, letting me deepen the kiss, letting me take whatever the hell I wanted. And I did.

I devoured her.

We collided like a goddamn disaster—reckless, inevitable, and too far gone to stop now. The tension between us had snapped, giving way to something dark, something uncontrollable. And I wasn’t sure I ever wanted to rein it in again.

My hands slipped under her shirt, rough and greedy, palming her breasts with a force that drew a sharp gasp from her lips. I yanked down her sports bra; the fabric giving way with a satisfying snap, and her breath hitched, filling the small space between us with heat and want.

My mouth found her neck, biting and marking the tender skin. Each bite was a claim, a brand I wanted her to carry long after we left this room. She shuddered beneath me, her body arching into my touch, and it was like fuel to the fire already raging in my chest.

Her hand snaked under my shirt, nails dragging down my abs in a way that sent sparks through my veins. Every scrape of her nails was a reminder of how much she wanted this—wanted me. Her fingers found my waist line, trembling but determined, and she fumbled with it until it came loose.

My pants hit the floor in one rough shove. Her shorts followed suit, panties shoved aside with no pretense or sweetness. There was no time for that now. This wasn’t about gentleness or care; it was about raw, unfiltered need.

I pressed her harder against the lockers, feeling the cold metal bite into my own skin through my shirt. But all I could focus on was her—her heat, her breathless gasps, the way she moved against me like she couldn’t get close enough.

This was what we both wanted.

What we both needed.

I thrust into her hard, a guttural groan ripping from my throat. This wasn’t careful. This was claiming. This was ownership.

“Oh, fuck, Iris,” I hissed. “Your pussy feels so fucking good on my cock.”

Iris clung to me, her fingers digging into my back with a desperate force that only spurred me on.

Her hips rocked to meet every brutal snap of my hips, each movement messy, rushed, perfect. Her gasps filled the space between us, mixing with my own ragged breaths.

My grip on her thigh tightened as I hoisted her higher, pounding into her like I had something to prove. To her. To myself. That she was mine. That this was ours.

“Take me dick,” he said. “Fucking perfect little player, taking your coach’s dick, hmm?”

Every thrust was a declaration, every moan a vow we couldn’t take back. We were past the point of no return, and it felt like the most natural thing in the world.

“Who’s fucking you, little girl?” I growled. “Who’s about to fucking ruin you?”

“Knox,” she gasped, her voice raw and broken. The sound of it made my chest tighten with something fierce and possessive.

I growled in response, my mouth finding her neck again, biting down hard enough to leave marks she’d carry for days. Marks that would remind her—remind us both—who she belonged to.

She responded with a cry that echoed off the locker room walls; her nails raking down my back, pulling me closer even as our bodies collided over and over in a brutal dance.

It was chaotic and intense, a whirlwind of sensation that left no room for thought or doubt. Just us. Just this.

I felt her body tighten around me, felt the shuddering build of something monumental in the way she moved against me. And I knew I wasn’t far behind.

This wasn’t just sex—it was everything we hadn’t said, everything we’d been holding back finally breaking free in the most primal way possible.

Her eyes locked onto mine in those final moments, wide and vulnerable and full of something I couldn’t name but felt deep in my bones.

Her head fell back against the locker, moaning my name—low, breathless, desperate.

And it fucking broke me.

I captured her mouth again, kissing her hard, swallowing every noise, every gasp. I needed her to know this was different. This wasn’t a mistake. This was us. And there was no going back.