The click of the deadbolt resonated behind Rachel, quickly drowned out by the pulsing bass seeping through the hallway walls. She knew Mel was hosting another one of her infamous parties—wild, excessive, and loud enough to shake the dormitory foundations.
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As always, Rachel hadn’t been invited.
Lingering near the door, her fingers brushed the cold metal of the lock. It was strange, the persistent feeling of being on the outside, of existing just beyond the circle she desired so much to be part of. No matter her efforts, the other girls maintained their distance, like an invisible barrier she couldn’t cross. Maybe her father was right; maybe returning to her quiet hometown and stepping into the family’s law legacy would have been simpler, safer.
But Rachel felt wildly different—unruly even—which didn’t mesh with her parents’ expectations. She hadn’t found her place yet, but it certainly wasn’t back in Herferd.
She exhaled deeply, releasing the tension that weighed on her chest, and slipped into the living room.
Kicking off her shoes, Rachel fell onto her couch, closing her eyes as the vibrations from the distant bass coursed through her body. Her phone buzzed, jolting her from the near-sleep.
Ethan: What are you doing?
A thrill sparked in Rachel’s chest, irrational but unmistakable. Checking the clock, she saw it was 1:03 a.m.
Her heart fluttered—the same flutter that had surprised her when a teacher unexpectedly called her name, or when she’d caught a stranger’s intense gaze across a crowded room. Tentatively, she thumbed a reply.
Rachel: Just got home.
Settling herself, she hugged her knees to her chest, head resting against the cushion. The bass jolted louder, as if Mel’s party sensed her slipping away. Rachel’s eyes fluttered open with a sigh.
Her phone vibrated again.
Ethan: Come out.
She stared at the message, surprised to consider the idea at all.
Rachel: Can’t. Just got home for the night.
The speed of his response caught her off guard. She’d imagined him as someone who played it cool, but this message held a desperation she found oddly appealing—though she was reluctant to admit it.
The little typing dots appeared and disappeared, then reappeared.
Ethan: What were you doing?
Rachel hesitated, biting her thumb nervously.
Rachel: Went to see a movie.
She wasn’t sure why she replied at all, especially after Ethan’s antics at the party—the dares, his lingering gaze as she removed her top, his shout after her to the crowd. It was clear he wasn’t truly concerned for her well-being. Rachel knew she couldn’t fully trust him.
And yet…
There was something compelling about him. The classic jock archetype: tall, athletic, undeniably handsome… and well endowed.
A man every girl wanted and one who used that to his advantage, letting arrogance slide. Yet, he had moments of kindness. He was one of Jack’s circle. That counted for something, she told herself.
Ethan: Who were you with?
Rachel’s thumb hovered over the screen. Why did it matter?
Mike’s warnings echoed in her head. Deep down, she knew he was right—Ethan wasn’t looking for anything but her body, like every other man it seemed. The sting of that truth was sharp.
This time, her replies were slow, fingers halting between letters.
Rachel: Mike and Noah.
Suddenly, Ethan’s rapid responses stopped.
No more dots. No more messages.
The music from Mel’s party grew thunderous, overpowering the silence. Rachel yawned, her jaw cracking as she curled further into the couch.
A sudden knocking at the door snapped her attention back.
She sat upright, tense, eyes darting to the entrance. The knocking was steady, measured—not frantic.
Cautiously, Rachel approached and peered through the peephole.
There was Mel—barefoot, clutching a wine bottle, her eyeliner smudged, her top dangerously slipping off one shoulder. Glitter sparkled on her cheekbones in the hallway light like frozen dew.
Rachel pressed her forehead to the door, bracing herself before unlocking the deadbolt and cracking it open.
“Yeah?”
Mel’s gaze flicked inside as she leaned in, her voice slurred. “What are you up to?”
“Getting ready for bed,” Rachel replied, more sharply than intended.
Mel raised a brow.
“Heard you say that a lot lately.”
Rachel blinked. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Mel smirked flatly. “Nothing. By the way—got any liquor? We ran out.”
Rachel leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed.
“Sorry. All out.”
Mel rolled her eyes, rocking back on her heels.
“How long will this party last?” Rachel asked.
“Why does it matter?” Mel shot back.
“Because I have school tomorrow.”
Mel scoffed. “We all do. Doesn’t make you special.”
“Well, some of us actually want to pass their classes.”
Mel snorted, rolling her eyes again.
“You can always sleep with a professor if you fail.”
“That’s not for me,” Rachel said coldly. “Just keep it down, okay?”
“Yeah, yeah. We’ll try. I’d invite you over, but there aren’t any guys to fuck, so you’d be bored.”
Rachel stared before closing the door with a slam.
The music swelled in volume, filling the quiet that followed Mel’s departure. Rachel leaned against the door, closing her eyes and pressing her lips into a tight line. Her phone vibrated from the couch.
She didn’t move. Not yet. Let him wait.
The phone buzzed again.
Dragging herself back to the couch, heavy-limbed and weary, Rachel desired nothing more than quiet, a chill pillow, and sleep.
But the buzzing persisted. With a sigh of defeat, she grabbed her phone.
Ethan: What were you guys really doing?
Ethan: Were you fucking?
Ethan: Did Mike get to fuck you again?
Too tired to be polite, she replied bluntly.
Rachel: It’s none of your business.
Ethan: Knew it. You’re a slut lol.
Rachel scoffed, exasperated. Was she? No, she was just tangled in her thoughts. She needed rest. She lifted her phone to power it down.
Another message arrived.
Ethan: You’ll fucking love this.
It was a video.
Her heart thudded. She dreaded what it showed but pressed play anyway.
The screen lit up with harsh fluorescent light bouncing over Ethan’s slick, erect cock. His hand moved slowly, dripping with lube, methodical and teasing. The veins stood out starkly as his fingers wrapped tightly around his throbbing length. His heavy balls swung beneath, and the slight sheen of sweat gleamed across his chiseled abs.
Rachel’s breath caught, her mouth parting involuntarily as she found herself unable to look away.
His grip tightened, sliding just under the swollen head where his thumb traced the glistening tip, a bead of precum shining like a jewel. Her thighs clenched in response.
Her clit pulsed with a harsh throb.
Swallowing hard, her hand hovered near her waistband, her body pulled in by an invisible force.
Then she shook her head and set the phone down. She needed to cool off, to regain control. It was just a video, unsolicited. Ethan had overstepped yet again.
She steeled herself and typed.
Rachel: This is disgusting.
And it was. She thought less of him instantly—a man who would violate boundaries so brazenly was arrogant, reckless, a pervert.
Yet, strangely, she found herself replaying the last few seconds—his thumb swirling, forearm flexing, a low moan barely escaping his lips.
Another buzz.
Ethan: I know you fucking like it though. Because you’re a slut. Just don’t know it yet lol. Want another? 😉
Rachel stared, hesitation thick in her chest longer than she cared to admit.
For a fleeting moment, curiosity flickered: to see him climax, hear the sounds he’d make for her. Would he beg? Would he be rough or tender? She imagined him in her room, pinning her against the wall, sliding thick and slick between her thighs, pushing past boundaries until she gasped from the intimate stretch.
She wanted to feel it—to be taken, filled, dominated, pleasured until sore in the best way possible. Ethan’s voice whispered in her ear, promising everything she secretly craved.
But she quickly pulled herself back. No. Boundaries were essential. Respect was non-negotiable.
Rachel: Don’t ever send me videos like that without asking again.
Delivered. Read.
Buzz.
Ethan: Lol okay, your Highness. We both know you want it.
Rachel: I don’t.
Ethan: Sure. Maybe next time I’ll just invite you to see it in person 😉
She scoffed, tossing the phone aside.
Fuck him.
She closed her eyes, sinking back into the couch as heat stirred between her thighs. Her panties dampened with desire, her fingers tracing slow, languid paths down her stomach.
Noah.
She recalled his gentle hands, the way he kissed tenderly, always asking before moving further—sweet, caring, safe. She loved him profoundly.
Images cascaded, intertwining with memories of Mike—rough hands gripping her hips, his transformation into something wild when he looked at her, pounding into her like she was fragile yet intoxicating.
And then, Ethan—his cocky smirk, his arrogant swagger, his overwhelming presence. The fantasy of him pushing her against the wall, overwhelming her, his massive length filling her completely, dominated her senses.
Her fingers drifted lower, circling her clit as she imagined the wet sounds, the sticky heat of their bodies intertwined, the intoxicating scent of sex filling the room. She ached for the fullness, for the sweet ache of being stretched open, claimed.
She longed for him to cum inside her—hot, thick, filling her until she overflowed.
Her fingers moved faster, tighter, a gasp catching in her throat.
The party’s bass pounded louder outside her windows.
Her back arched, legs trembling.
She came, body trembling, soaked, eyes fluttering shut in surrender.
The room spun—a heady rush of pleasure followed by the lingering sting of shame. Moments ago she’d said goodnight to Noah; now, she lay consumed by the thought of another man.
But she knew Noah would understand. That maybe, just maybe, he wanted this too. She made no move to clean herself or check her phone—just lay flushed, still, letting the music wash over her.
Finally, sleep claimed her.