Chapter 3: Total Domination
He kept her pinned, fucking her with long, relentless strokes that ground the hard root of him against her clit each time he hilted inside her. "You want this hard, you filthy little slut?" he grunted, his breath hot against her ear, and all she could manage was a ragged cry that sounded like yes. His grip shifted from her throat, one hand still pinning her wrists as the other groped roughly at her breast, squeezing her small tit through the thin cotton of her shirt, then pulling the fabric down to scrape his thumb over her stiffened nipple. She arched into the rough contact, the dual assault of pain and pleasure twisting together in a tight, feverish knot deep in her belly. The bedframe thumped a steady, frantic rhythm against the wall, a hollow counterpoint to the wet slap of skin and their mingled, panting breaths. He was close; she could feel the heavy pulse of him deep inside, the subtle tremor in his thighs as he drove harder. "Look at me," he commanded, his voice a raw demand, and her eyes snapped open, locking onto his dark, glazed stare. With a final, brutal thrust that made her see stars, he buried himself to the balls and came, a deep groan tearing from his chest as he emptied hot jets of cum into her pulsing cunt, the warm spill a stark contrast to the cool air on her skin. He collapsed beside her, his chest heaving, his powerful frame a sudden, limp weight. The silence rushed back in, a vacuum filled only by the thrumming of her own heartbeat in her ears. She lay there, her body humming with aftershocks, the burning stretch where he’d been inside her a brand. Without a word, Ken rolled off the bed and padded into the bathroom, the flush of the toilet and the sound of running water slicing through the charged quiet. The water stopped; he emerged, already pulling on his discarded sweats, his expression one of casual, detached satisfaction. Crossing to his desk, he grabbed his phone and car keys, not sparing her a glance. “Lock up when you leave,” he said over his shoulder as he opened the door and stepped out into the hallway, the click of the latch falling behind him a definitive punctuation. The dorm room, filled with the scent of sweat and sex and his expensive cologne, felt suddenly cavernous and cold. Slowly, Lina pushed herself up on trembling arms, cum leaking from between her thighs onto his pristine, navy blue sheets. Stumbling into his bathroom, she caught her reflection in the mirror—red hair a wild tangle, cheeks flushed, her bottom lip slightly split and swollen. She turned the tap, letting icy water pool in her cupped hands, and bent to wash the scent of him from her face. Back in the stark, quiet room, she pulled her panties back on, the thin cotton instantly damp against her skin, a tangible, shameful reminder, and she collected her shirt from where it had landed half on a chair. Matthew’s soft, hopeful smile floated into her mind then, a sharp and unwelcome intrusion, but it receded quickly, dissolved by the far more immediate and visceral memory of Ken’s hands and the echo of the slamming door.