Too loyal. Too protective.
Too… selfless.
But all it’s done is expose my own faults.
Bexley adapts to her surroundings, constantly assessing and observing. I’m always in control, and if that is threatened or taken away, it would likely be my downfall.
She’s been forced into this position—both literally and metaphorically—so secretly she wants to lose…because she safely can for once. There’s no lasting price to pay, no consequences. Just a brief moment in the chaos where Bexley can let go, crashing and burning without fear. She doesn’thaveto be in control, even though it's a natural instinct for her now. But she knows she has a choice… the opportunity to let someone else handle everything for her.
But dammit she’ll make me fucking work for it though.
I grab her wrists suddenly, slamming them to the ground by her head. My cock twitches when her chest hitches with a small breath, the air around us intensifying. It’s like the atmosphere is moving with us, influenced by the chemistry and sparks—as if we’re stronger than life itself.
“Fight me then,” I demand, fingers tightening on her skin. “Show me.”
Bexley bites her bottom lip, clearly torn. She wants to give in but every fiber in her body demands to follow through with my challenge.
And that wins out.
I’m thrown off balance as she bucks her hips upwards, successfully bouncing my weight off the floor. I shift my center of gravity, using my upper body strength against her lower power.
We’re at a stalemate for a few seconds, equally matched, and I admit I may start to get a little cocky. There’s no way she’ll be able to overpower me from this position, even if her lower body strength is impressive. But before I can even finish the thought, she twists her frame, sending me crashing toward the ground.
The angle leaves me no choice but to drop one of her wrists to catch myself. In the split second that I do, the air is forced out of my body as I’m barged in the side. Bexley tackles me, somehow finding my own wrists.
Well, shit. We’ve managed to switch positions entirely with Bexley poised on top of my hips, pinning my hands to the ground by my head.
And… I can’t say I hate it.
“You were saying?” She asks sweetly, grinding her hips into my obvious erection. “Come on, Hunter. I’m blindfolded. You can do better than that.”
I follow her tactic, jerking upright. Even with her strength, Bexley is no match as she flies upwards. But I don’t flip us, letting her fall back into my lap. “You’re a smart woman,” I tell her. “We both know I could easily overthrow you right now.”
“But you don’t want to?” She asks rhetorically, letting go of my right wrist and reaching down. Her hand presses into my dick, palming the rock hard length through my jeans.
I almost laugh when she falters slightly, clearly taken aback as recognition hits her. I can’t recall a time she’s ever seen me so casually dressed. I’m using the term loosely, of course… since she’s still blindfolded.
Even outside of the academy, I always made an effort to look the part except for the odd hoodie here and there. I’d rather be dead than caught in attire that could reflect lowly on my status. But who the fuck cares now?
Her fingers stroke the denim, hand snaking slowly across the material until she reaches the metal zipper. Without hesitating, she pulls it down, dipping her hand inside to grab me skin to skin.
I buck my hips again, groaning as her grip tightens around me. Bexley pumps her fist along my length, and I realize that she’s pulled my dick out entirely without me noticing.
Alright—fuck the stupid blindfold. Fuck this game. If I don’t move soon, I might do something embarrassing. Appearances and clothing might be insignificant to my moral and mortal existence now, but I’ll be damned if I come from a three second handjob. I’ll never livethatdown.
“I don’t think so,” Bexley murmurs, letting go and using her flattened palm on my lower abdomen to press me back to the floor. “We’re doing this my way now.”
“Bexley, I’m fucking serious. I—” The words are cut off as she slides backwards. I lift my head to glance down at her, ready to grab her hair and yank her back up. But suddenly, her warm breath is tickling my sensitive skin.
Every single ounce of frustration and control vanishes instantly as I stare wide-eyed in awe. Her hand wraps around the base, pumping firmly a few times before she lowers her head. Warm, wet lips slide down my shaft, pressure tightening as I’m pulled into her mouth and throat.
“Fuckkkkkk,” I groan deeply. On any other given occasion, I might be embarrassed, but right now, I don’t give a shit—just as long as she doesn’t stop.
“Mm-hmm” she moans, the vibrations pelting me into what feels like another damn dimension.
My hips jerk involuntarily as she takes me deeper, and for a brief second, I worry about hurting her. Especially when her nails dig into my hips.
Wait. Goddamn.