The Campus Bully Hounded Me Out of My Seat, Then I Told Him I Was Pregnant novel · Chapter 3 of 24

Chapter 3: Room 14

Aksel knocks at one in the morning, takes her orders, and they have sex for the first time; afterward he says he cannot stop thinking about a stranger on the bluff, and she lies under him and says nothing.

He knocked at ten past one.

Halle was on a clinical shift at the campus clinic until six, so the second bed was empty and the room was dark except for the lamp on my desk.

I had not slept.

I had sat on the bed with my knees up, in my mother's flannel nightshirt.

I had listened to the old barn rafters tick and thought about two pink lines.

Three knocks, evenly spaced.

I got up and opened the door three inches.

Aksel stood in the corridor in a gray sweatshirt and jeans, with rain on his shoulders and his hands at his sides.

The scar showed pale against his knuckles.

"I said I'd find you tonight," he said.

"You said that at six," I said.

"It's one."

"I wasn't sure you'd open," he said.

"I wasn't either."

I let the door swing wide.

He came in and stood just inside, and I shut it behind him and turned the lock.

He looked at the lamp and the narrow bed and the quilt my mother had made, and he looked at me in the flannel with my braid down.

"Terms," I said.

"Say them," he said.

"You don't speak of this at the library, and you don't touch me in the hall.

"Here, you do what I tell you, and I tell you when to stop."

"And if I don't want to?" he said.

"Then you can leave."

He stood very still.

I watched him decide, and I knew what it cost a man who had made a whole campus step out of his way.

"All right," he said.

"Take off your sweatshirt."

He pulled it over his head and dropped it on the floor.

He was lean and long, with ribs showing a little above a hard flat stomach.

A line of dark-blond hair ran down into his jeans, and his shoulders were broad from the oar.

I looked at all of it slowly, the way he had looked at me on the dock.

"Boots," I said.

"Jeans."

He did it without a word, and I saw the muscle jump in his jaw.

He was hard already, straining his boxers, and he made no attempt to hide it.

"Come here."

He came.

I put my hand on his chest, over a heart that was going as fast as mine.

I slid it down his stomach, slowly, and over the front of his boxers, and he sucked in a breath through his teeth.

"I hate you," he said, hoarse.

"I know."

"You're the first person who ever said no to me, and I can't think about anything else."

"Then think about this," I said.

I pulled his boxers down and he stepped out of them.

He was long and thick and flushed dark, with a clear bead already on the head.

I wrapped my fingers around him and felt him shake.

"Sit on the bed," I said.

He sat.

I knelt on the cold floor between his knees, and he stared down at me with his lips parted.

"Thea," he said.

"Don't talk," I said.

I took him into my mouth.

He swore, low and ragged, and his hand fisted in my quilt.

I took him slowly at first, tasting salt and clean skin, my tongue flat along the underside.

He was too big to take all the way, so I used my hand at the base and my mouth on the rest.

I watched his face the whole time.

He had his head back and his eyes shut.

I heard his teeth grind.

"Please," he said.

It was the first time I had heard the word from him, and I felt it between my own legs.

I took him deeper.

His hips jerked once.

He caught himself and held still, shaking with the effort, because I had told him to.

"I'm going to," he said.

"Not yet," I said.

I pulled off him, my mouth wet, and stood up.

I pulled the flannel over my head and dropped it, and stood there in only my underwear.

He looked at me with his mouth open.

"Take them off me."

He rose from the bed and went to his knees in front of me.

He hooked his fingers in my waistband and drew it down my thighs, and I stepped out.

His hands came up the backs of my legs, rough from the oars, and he pressed his face against my stomach and breathed out.

"Where do you want me?" he said.

"Lie back."

He lay down on the narrow bed.

I climbed over him with one knee on either side of his chest, and I sat down on his mouth.

He didn't wait to be told twice.

He gripped my thighs and pulled me down onto his tongue, and I cried out and caught the wall with both hands.

He licked me slow and deep and hungry.

Then he found my clit and stayed there.

I rolled my hips against his mouth.

"Yes," I said.

"Right there.

"Don't you dare move."

He groaned against me.

I felt the sound go through me.

His tongue circled, flicked, pressed and circled again until my thighs began to shake.

One hand left my hip, and two fingers pushed inside me and curled.

I cried out again and slapped my palm over my mouth, because the barn walls were thin.

"More," I whispered.

He gave me more.

He worked his fingers in time with his tongue, patient and exact.

The pleasure climbed my spine so fast I had to bite my own wrist.

I came on his mouth with my forehead against the wall, clenching around his fingers.

He held me through it, licking me gently as I came down.

I slid off him, wet and trembling.

His face was shining, and his eyes were black.

"Look at you," he said.

"I want to be inside you.

"Tell me I can."

"Yes."

I took a foil square out of the desk drawer, where Halle kept a box she called emergency supplies, and I rolled it down him myself.

He watched my hands.

I straddled him and guided him against me, and he put his hands on my hips and did not move them.

"Tell me when," he said.

"Now."

I sank down.

He was so thick that it hurt a little, a deep stretching burn, and then it didn't hurt at all.

He filled me and held there, trembling through his whole body.

I put my hands flat on his chest.

"Don't move," I said.

"Thea," he said.

"Not yet."

I rocked once, slowly.

He groaned, a long, broken sound.

I rode him slow and deep, my braid swinging over his chest, and he looked up at me as if I were the first fire he had ever seen.

I lowered my face to his and kissed him.

"You feel so good," he said against my mouth.

"God, you feel so good."

I took his left hand off my hip and laid it against my cheek.

It was the same gesture and the same weight.

The scar lay under my jaw, a hard little ridge, and for one second the room tilted.

It was him.

I had known it in the cage.

Now I knew it with my whole body.

I turned my head and kissed the scar.

"Don't stop," I said.

"Faster."

His hips came up to meet me.

I braced myself on his shoulders and took it as hard as I wanted.

The bed knocked against the wall, and he gripped my waist and said my name over and over.

The pleasure came up from my knees.

I came again with a cry I couldn't keep in.

I felt him follow, driving up into me and shaking, with his face buried in my neck.

We lay tangled in the narrow bed, sweating, with the quilt half off.

His heart pounded against my ribs, and my hand was in his hair.

After a long time he rolled me onto my side and curled around my back, one arm over my waist.

His palm lay flat on my stomach, just below my navel, where there was nothing yet to feel.

I did not move it.

"There was someone on the bluff," he said, into my hair.

"Three weeks ago, the night before term."

My whole body went still.

"I couldn't sleep, so I walked up there, and she was sitting on the rock.

"We talked until it got light.

"I never told her my name.

"I haven't been able to think about anything else since."

His thumb moved on my stomach.

"I looked for her.

"I looked at every girl in the dining hall.

"I think I've been angry at everyone because none of them were her."

I lay under his hand with my eyes open in the dark.

"That's a stupid thing to say to a girl in her own bed," I said.

"I know."

"Why are you telling me?"

"I don't know," Aksel said.

"I couldn't say it to anyone else."

I looked at the lamp.

I thought about the pink lines in the pocket of my coat on the back of the door, six feet from his hand.

I thought, it would take one sentence.

I did not say the sentence.

I lay there and let him hold me and said nothing, and I was a liar under his arm.

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