Page 103 of Dean's Delinquent

“Breathe, Ashleigh,” he commands. “In. Out. Breathe.”

The next one whistles through the air, catching me right under the one before it. This time, the pain morphs, spreading through my body like fire. This is how I remember it. This is how I want it, how I crave it.

My sobs change, taking on a plaintive moan as arousal sizzles through my synapses. Everything fuzzes as my body and mind separate. Here, I can finally breathe. Here, I can finally be.

His doll.

His broken submissive.

His slave.

I refuse to count the strokes in my mind as he continues to lay one down right after the other. By the time he’s finished, all I can process is his fingers and lips skimming the raw strokes, rekindling the fire. His hands are strong and sure as they help me off of the cross and over onto the bed.

“Focus on me, love,” he murmurs as strange hands tie my wrists down. “That’s all you have to do.”

As the men surround me, a frisson of fear winds through my veins, threatening to send me over the edge. Through it all, the dean stands near and talks me through it, whispering his praises as the men defile me with their cum. Over and over they empty themselves onto me, painting me with their lusts until there’s no one left.

Then, and only then, does my dean come to the edge of the bed and climb on. His cock is already rock solid as he drives into me with one long stroke. The moans I’ve been holding back pour out of my lips as easily as the drips of cum shooting from the men’s tips.

He fucks me, owns me, and loves me in front of these people, claiming me as his for all to see. There’s no fear, no shame, just lust—pure and unadulterated. Reaching down between us, he strokes my clit, ramping up my arousal until I can no longer think straight.

The need to come, to shatter beneath him, overwhelms me to the point of pain. My cries take on a different pitch, mingling with those of others fucking around me. It’s a cacophony of lust that drives me even higher until everything stops.

My body clenches hard around his, gripping his cock as everything in me shatters and breaks. Sobbing out my relief, I rock my hips back and forth, riding out my orgasm as he finally joins me in a loud shout. Even with the cum all over me, he collapses on top of me and slides his lips over mine in that rough, possessive way that makes me tingle from head to toe.

We lie there for several minutes as the others cheer around us. Looking up at my dean, I can’t help but laugh as every movement he makes causes him to squick against me as the cum congeals into a disgusting mess. He laughs right along as he undoes my wrist restraints and rolls off of the bed.

I keep my legs wrapped around him as he walks me to the bathroom and sets me at the edge of a large tub. Steam billows up as he fills it and helps me inside. Everything feels so right as he gathers me in his arms and washes me off. Never did I think I’d end up here, but now that I am, I can’t see myself being anywhere else.

As we both soak, a soft hum vibrates through my body as I lie against him and run my fingers over his chest. “I still can’t believe you chose me.”

“Well, I can’t believe you bratted your way into getting an initiation, so I guess we’re both even.”

“Not by a longshot,” I laugh, turning to show him my ass. “Pretty sure I’m getting the raw end of the deal here.”

“Oh really,” he teases, raising that ridiculous eyebrow of his. “And what do you call the earth-shattering orgasms that have you soaking the sheets and screaming my name?”

“Payment for services rendered?”

“Nice try. Come on. It’s time I get you home, but first, I have something for you.”

He eases himself out of the tub and pads over to his jacket hanging over on a hook. His tight ass gleams as water drips down, drawing a lustful sigh from my lips.

“Your ass is a thing of beauty. I hope you know that.”

“Good,” he grumbles, pulling out a box. “The same could be said of yours.” As he walks back over to the tub, he pulls out a simple silver necklace with a quill pen dangling down. “I figure if my slave is going to wear my collar, I might as well make it custom to her.”

Tears prick my eyes as I run my fingers over the delicate filigree of the feather. “It’s beautiful.”

“Not as beautiful as the girl who will be wearing it.” As he slips it on my neck, his lips curve into a soft smile. “Perfect. And, before you ask, yes. There is a tracker in there. I’ll always know where you are at any given moment.”

As I pull myself out of the tub and dry off, I send him a little wink. “Well, of course you will because I’ll tell you anytime I go anywhere.”

“Damn right.”

As I reach for a clean pair of clothes, his brows draw into a fierce frown. His hand fishes around in his coat until he pulls out his phone and stares at the screen. For a moment, a flare of concern flashes through my system until I remember—the email.

“Why am I getting the Lantern article tonight? It’s not due for a few more days.”

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