Chapter 6 She'll fucking beg
Hayes
I slouch in this goddamn boardroom chair like I own the fucking place, because let's face it, with my family's money propping up half this elite shithole of a college, I pretty much do.
The air's thick with the scent of polished wood and stale coffee, and around the table sit the usual suspects: a couple of wide-eyed student council drones, the dean’s assistant fidgeting with her notepad, and there, at the head like she’s the queen of the prissy charity ball, is Tegan.
Fuck, she’s a vision even when she's fucking annoying.Her Dark hair cascading like she spent hours perfecting that effortless shit, those siren blue eyes that could drown a man if they weren’t always shooting daggers my way. Curvy as hell, all soft swells and hips that scream 'grab me,' wrapped in that prim little blouse and skirt like she’s auditioning for sainthood.
Student body president, daddy’s princess, hosting fundraisers for the poor saps who can’t afford tuition here. Hypocrite princess doesn’t know the half of real struggle, probably cries over a chipped nail. The golden girl everyone admires. The one you take home to your parents.
"The security should be tight and they will search and seize drugs" she announces.
I stifle my laugh, it's cute she thinks she can tone down the Founders Cup Rivalry Week party, the annual blowout my hockey team throws after we crush those Ivy League wannabes from across the state.
It’s legendary: off-campus mansions turned into throbbing dens of sin, booze flowing like rivers, bodies grinding under strobe lights until dawn. Everyone in this California cesspool loves it—hell, half the faculty sneaks in for a taste. But Tegan’s here to 'ensure it aligns with school values' or some bullshit. As if her perfect image could handle the chaos we unleash.
I don't even bother to stress over arguing with her because what I fucking want i get. I stare at the cute little girl, she's avoiding eye contact with me for whatever reason but I don't care.
I lean back, kicking my legs out under the table, my boot nudging her ankle first. She shoots me a glare, those blue eyes narrowing, but I just smirk, cold and slow.
"So, you expect us to stick to soda then,' I drawl, my voice low enough that the others have to strain to hear, but she catches every syllable
"Or are we sticking to your lame-ass punch bowls and balloon animals?"
"Of course not,all I'm saying is there shouldn't be anything illegal" she murmurs.
“We wouldn't want what happened last time to repeat itself” one of them sayein a shaky voice and all of them grow tense. No one talked about it.
“It had nothing to do with the hockey team” I defend my team because no matter how things looked we weren't responsible for what happened to Ethan Iverson.
“Yes it did” Tegan snaps.
I just hum at her and let the sound of their voices tune out as I drift into what I really want.
Tegan
Fuck, I’d break her. Strip away that pristine facade, pin her down on this very table and watch her innocence shatter.
Her plump, perfect body soft and yielding under me, those curves jiggling as I spread her thighs wide. I’d tease her pussy until she’s dripping, her defiance cracking like cheap glass. She’d beg—oh, she’d fucking beg—for my cock, those full lips parting on whimpers,
Make her mine, body and soul, drag her into the mud she’s so scared of. That one-night stand on her birthday? A tease. I don't even remember much of if but fuck it was incredible. I remember pounding into her tight heat, her nails raking my back
My foot slides higher, boot tip tracing her calf, rough denim of my jeans brushing her smooth skin. She shifts, crossing her legs, but I hook my toe behind her knee, forcing them apart just a fraction.
"Hayes," she hisses under her breath, pretending to flip through papers, but her cheeks flush that pretty pink.
Arrogant prick that I am, I love it, pushing her buttons in front of everyone.
The dean’s assistant drones on about crowd control, and I take the opening, my foot inching up her inner thigh. Slow, deliberate, the leather of my boot pressing against her soft flesh. She freezes, eyes locked on mine now, a mix of fury and something hotter flickering there.
Higher now, my boot nudges the hem of her skirt, pushing it up. She clamps her thighs, but I’m relentless, wedging my foot between them. The tablecloth hides it all, but I feel the heat radiating from her core. Dark chuckle builds in my chest, the perfect Tegan unraveling from a simple touch. I rub the toe of my boot against her panties, right over her lower lips, feeling the fabric dampen already. She’s soaked, the little liar, her body betraying that hatred she wears like armor.
"We need to discuss the overall number of people that will be there,to know how many we're responsible for" she says, voice strained, trying to steer the meeting.
But I press harder, grinding slow circles, the pressure teasing her clit through the thin barrier. Her pen scratches nonsense on her notepad, knuckles white. I lean forward, elbows on the table, staring her down.
"Hmm....what about them?" I ask with a smirk.
"So....we'll know how.... many students we're–"
She gasps softly,barely audible,but it’s enough. Her foot jerks, trying to kick me away, but I hook it, causing her to spread her tighs wider, my boot rubbing firmer now, the boot’s edge parting her folds through the lace.
“Miss Vale is everything alright?” a a staff asks genuinely concerned.
“Yes,yes…. please carry on” she mutters trying to look normal. While she's anything but that.
I can almost feel her pussy clenching, slick and needy, imagining how she’d look spread out, begging me to replace this tease with my fingers, my tongue, my cock. Break her, make her mine, watch that defiance crumble into desperate pleas.
The room’s oblivious, chattering about decorations, but Tegan’s unraveling. Her breath hitches, eyes glazing with that mix of rage and lust. Finally, she slams her folder shut, standing so fast her chair scrapes.
"Everyone out," she snaps, voice sharp but trembling.
They all blink, confused, but they scatter like roaches, filing out with murmurs.
