Page 75 of Dean's Delinquent

A few more thrusts is all I have left in me. Pulling out, I ease her feet to the floor before I turn her around and grab her ass. There, I paint the pink skin with my cum, marking her in a truly primal way. My fingers glide up and down my thick shaft as I force every bit I can out and onto her skin.

Harsh breaths rip from my lungs as I lean over and hold her close until I can catch my breath. If only all our interactions can be like this. Unfortunately, my gut tells me things will never be that easy again. For once, I really want my gut to be wrong.

ChapterThirty

Ashleigh

One Week Later

How in the hell am I supposed to go about my life when, at any given moment, Dean Anderson can turn everything upside down? Gathering my books, I look about the room as my lips turn down into a frown. One week. Apparently, that’s all it takes for me to feel the effect of missing him.

Not that he hasn’t stopped by and seen me, fucked me, and told me I’m a good girl. But that’s not what I want. It’s not what I crave.

I didn’t think I was a brat before, at least not in the poor little rich girl sense, but something has to give. Frustration zips down my spine as I pull up my phone and scroll through my texts. Nothing. Not that I’m really expecting much.

He’s made it very clear he has to keep our relationship far more secretive than I’d like. But then, what else can I expect? Should I have planned to bring him home to Mommy and Daddy and tell them about all the wicked, delicious things he can do with his fingers, tongue, and cock?

Right. That would go over like a lead balloon.

No doubt they’d try to find a way to lock me in the house before they marry me off. Probably to Caldwell. A shudder brings about a wave of nausea as I sling my bag over my shoulder and head out the door. Down the hall, others prepare for their classes as if this is a normal sorority and a normal day.

Even when I was on the outside, this place didn’t seem normal. How are they all okay with this? Granted, none of them have anyone in particular they want to spend forever with or anything. I can see why they don’t really care who they fuck just as long as they can reach their dreams.

A soft smile teases the edges of my lips as giddiness replaces the last dredges of revulsion. Being The Society pet certainly has its perks. That is, if Dean Anderson was honest about the meeting he set up for me in a few weeks.

And that’s all it takes to drag my mind away from the drudgery of Chi Sigma Delta and back onto the positives. Sure, I can’t see the dean as much as I’d like. Sure, we can’t just go have dinner together like a normal couple. He’s still in my bed every night and doing his utmost to make sure I can fulfill my dreams.

All I have to do is sell him my body and soul. Thankfully, I was already willing to give him those for free. Seems as if I’m the one who lucked out the most.

As I pass a few of the newer members, my phone buzzes, making my heart leap into my throat. Speak of the devil and he will appear. Only... As I look at the screen, irritation replaces any sense of hopeful happiness as Caldwell’s name appears.

Caldwell

Hey sweets.

Speaking of the wrong devil.

Ashleigh

I’m on my way to class. What is it?

Just seeing what colors you’re planning to wear to the gala in a few weeks. We need to coordinate our outfits.

I’m not going to the gala.

At least not with you, I add silently. If anything, I’d love nothing more than to be Dean Anderson’s date again. Even if it does mean going as the ‘press’.

That’s not what your mother said.

I’m running late for class. Can’t this wait?

You’re always going on about school or the paper. When are you going to make some more time for us? I’m feeling pretty neglected here.

I pause at the end of the steps and stare at the screen as shock roots me to the spot. He can’t be serious. In what world did I ever give him the impression he meant more to me than my career? What us? Fuck. What did my mother tell him?

“Ashleigh?”

A familiar voice washes over me, drawing up the hairs on the back of my neck. Pulling my gaze away from my phone, I look up at the man I met at the benefit not that long ago. Double fuck. Someone I recognize and who can easily recognize me. Fuck, fuck, fuck. No one is supposed to know I’m here.

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