Chapter 10: CC's legs nearly give out when she steps into the hallway, Ace's cum leaking down her thighs as Lee takes in her disheveled state with a knowing smirk. 'Took you two long enough,' he laughs, before pulling them both into a hug - only for Ace to growl 'Don't fucking touch her' and yank CC possessively against her side, making CC whimper as the movement presses Ace's still-hard cock against her ass through their clothes.
The heavy dorm room door clicked shut behind CC like the seal on a tomb. She leaned against the cool wood, eyes squeezed tight, the rough grain pressing into her bare shoulder blades through the thin cotton of her sundress. Ace’s scent – leather, sweat, sex – clung to her skin, a living reminder. The ache between her legs was profound, a deep throb echoing the brutal, claiming thrusts from only minutes ago. She could still feel the hot spill of Ace inside her, a slick, uncomfortable wetness smeared high on her inner thighs, threatening to trickle down. She’d barely managed to yank the dress on, not bothering with underwear lost somewhere in Ace’s sheets, the fabric chafing against her sensitized skin. The bite mark on her collarbone pulsed beneath the thin strap, a raw, possessive brand.
Stay? Ace’s rough, vulnerable plea reverberated in her skull, clashing violently with the memory of being pinned, bitten, fucked with such ferocious intensity that her muscles still trembled. Confusion warred with a lingering, humiliating arousal. Straight. She was supposed to be straight. But her body screamed a different truth, her pussy clenching uselessly at the phantom thickness of Ace’s cock, still wet from being filled. She needed air. Space. To scrub the feel of Ace off her, out of her. She pushed off the door, wincing as her thighs rubbed together, sticky with drying cum.
The dorm hallway stretched before her, bathed in late afternoon sunlight slanting through the high windows. Dust motes danced in the golden beams. The smell of cheap laundry detergent and stale pizza hung in the air. Normalcy. She clutched her small purse, her knuckles white, and took an unsteady step. Then another. Her legs felt like jelly, her core still tender, each movement reminding her of the deep, stretching penetration.
Halfway to the stairwell, the elevator at the far end chimed, a cheerful, mundane sound. The doors slid open. Liam "Lee" Miller stepped out, a canvas tote bag slung over one shoulder, humming absently. He spotted her immediately. His easy smile faltered, then froze entirely as his gaze swept over her.
CC stopped dead, a deer in the harsh hallway light. Her face flamed crimson, burning hotter than the bite on her neck. She instinctively brought a hand up to her collarbone, trying to hide the mark, but the motion only drew attention to her disheveled state: damp, tangled blonde hair clinging to her flushed neck, the wrinkled sundress askew, the faint tremor in her limbs.
Lee’s eyes, sharp and observant, didn’t miss a thing. They lingered for a fraction of a second on the angry red bite peeking above her dress strap. Dropped to the damp patch darkening the thin fabric clinging to the juncture of her thighs. Traced the unsteady wobble of her posture. His eyebrows climbed impossibly high, disappearing beneath his messy fringe. He took a slow step closer, the worn linoleum squeaking under his sneakers.
The silence stretched, thick and suffocating, broken only by the distant thump of bass from another room. Lee finally broke it. He didn’t shout. Didn’t gasp. He simply tilted his head, a small, knowing smirk playing on his lips. His voice, when it came, was a dry, perfectly enunciated deadpan that cut through the tension like a scalpel.
"So… not straight then?"
CC’s breath hitched. The world seemed to tilt. Humiliation, panic, and a strange, defiant thrill collided violently within her. She opened her mouth, but no sound emerged. Only a faint, choked gasp. Her knees threatened to buckle. The evidence was undeniable, dripping down her leg. Lee’s gaze, devoid of judgment but brimming with an ‘I-told-you-so’ understanding, pinned her more effectively than Ace ever had. She swayed, the fluorescent lights suddenly too bright, the scent of laundry detergent nauseating. Straight? The word felt like ash in her mouth. She stared at Lee, her green eyes wide with terrified confusion, the carefully constructed label of her identity crumbling into dust at her sticky feet.
Lee’s smirk softened slightly into something more sympathetic, but the knowing glint remained. He took another step closer, his voice dropping to a murmur that nonetheless echoed loudly in the silent hallway. "Rough night, princess? Or… morning?" He gestured vaguely towards Ace’s door with his chin. "She finally stop pretending she wasn't dying to devour you?"
CC flinched, the explicit phrasing a hot knife twisting in her gut. "Lee, I…" she stammered, her voice raspy, raw from screaming Ace’s name. "It wasn't… I didn't plan…"
"Uh-huh," Lee interrupted smoothly, leaning against the opposite wall, crossing his arms. His eyes flickered again to the dampness on her dress. "Looks like planning wasn't exactly required. More like… inevitability finally caught up." He sighed, a theatrical sound. "Honestly, CC, the tension between you two has been thicker than the plot of a bad telenovela. Frankly, I'm just relieved someone finally ripped the Band-Aid off. Preferably with their teeth, judging by the accessory." He nodded pointedly at her collarbone.
Tears welled hotly in CC’s eyes, blurring Lee’s figure. Shame washed over her, cold and heavy. "I don't know what happened," she whispered, the admission scraping her throat. "One minute we were… fighting? In the parking lot… then…" The memory of Ace’s hands pinning her to the cold car hood, her mouth ruthless between her legs, flooded back. "And then just now… she… she wouldn't let me leave…"
Lee’s expression shifted instantly. The amusement vanished, replaced by sharp concern."Whoa. Hold up." He pushed off the wall, closing the distance between them. His voice lost its playful edge, turning serious. "Wouldn't let you leave? What does that mean, Chlo? Did she hurt you?" His gaze scanned her more critically now, searching for signs beyond the obvious sexual ones. "Forget the bite for a sec. Did she force you? Coerce you? Because Ace can be intense as fuck, but if she crossed a line…"
"No!" CC said quickly, shaking her head, the movement making her dizzy. "No, it wasn't… force, force. Not like that. She just… stopped me. When I tried to sneak out after. Pinned me down. Asked me where I thought I was going." The memory of Ace’s weight, her growl, the sharp bite followed by the claiming thrust of her fingers… it sent another unwelcome pulse of heat through her core. "She was… angry. Possessive. But I… I wanted…" The confession died on her lips, too horrifying to voice. She had wanted it. Wanted Ace’s anger, her dominance, the raw, obliterating pleasure that followed.
Understanding dawned in Lee’s eyes, mixed with a flicker of relief and a healthy dose of exasperation. "Oh. So that kind of 'wouldn't let me leave'." He ran a hand through his hair. "Jesus, you two. You're gonna give me grey hairs. Okay. Possessive-but-consensual Ace in full claiming mode. Got it." He looked at her damp thighs again, then back to her face, the blush now a permanent fixture. "And you're currently… leaking Ace’s special protein shake… because…?"
CC whimpered, mortified. "She… she came inside. Deep. A lot. Just before I left. Said… said she was marking me inside." The crude explanation tumbled out, fueled by panic and the sheer absurdity of saying it aloud to Lee, in a sunlit hallway smelling of Tide.
Lee whistled softly, low and appreciative despite himself. "Damn. She went full caveman. ‘Mine. Inside and out.’ Classic Ace." He shook his head, a wry smile returning. "Look, Chlo. Deep breaths. You're not dying. You just got very thoroughly fucked by a very intense lesbian who's clearly been in love with you since, like, sophomore orientation. It's messy. It's confusing. It's probably terrifying. Welcome to the gay panic club, hon. Membership is compulsory once you've been claimed like a prize heifer."
The crude analogy, delivered with Lee’s characteristic bluntness, startled a choked, watery laugh out of CC. "Lee!"
"What? Too soon?" He grinned, then sobered slightly. "Seriously though. Are you okay? Physically? Like, do you need Advil? Water? A hazmat suit?" His eyes flicked meaningfully downwards again.
CC shifted uncomfortably, the sticky sensation between her legs impossible to ignore. "I feel… raw.Used. And…" She swallowed hard, meeting his gaze with terrified honesty. "And like I might pass out. Or throw up. Or… need her to do it all over again. I don't know what I feel. It’s a hurricane in my head."
Lee nodded, his expression softening into genuine empathy. "Yeah. That tracks. First time with Ace is… an experience. Especially when it involves parking lots and biting." He glanced towards Ace’s door, then back at CC. "You wanna crash in my room for a bit? Shower? Regroup? Or…" He paused, tilting his head. "Do you need to go back in there?"
The question hung in the air. Back to Ace? Back to the intensity, the confusion, the terrifyingly addictive heat? Back to the woman who had just reduced her to a trembling, dripping mess and then asked her to stay with heartbreaking vulnerability?
CC looked at Ace’s door, the plain, scuffed wood suddenly charged with immense significance. Her body hummed with residual arousal and deep-seated exhaustion. Her mind was a battlefield of fear and desire. The evidence of Ace’s possession cooled stickily on her skin. Lee’s patient, knowing gaze offered a temporary lifeline, a chance to breathe.
She took a shuddering breath, the scent of Ace still clinging to her, mingling with the sterile hallway air. The hurricane raged on. She turned away from the door, towards Lee, her voice small and lost."Shower. Please."