I told myself I was going to get her back to the club and savor her… that I’d coax her and tease her until she gave me what I wanted. I wasn’t expecting her to demand I give her more. It’s a welcome surprise. Still, I might be a bastard, but I don’t want to take her virginity in a fucking cemetery.

Well, I do… but she deserves better.

I claim her mouth again. Her taste has seeped down inside of me and changed something. I have to have it now. A drug? I think it may be more powerful. I’m starting to think I may never be free—and I don’t really give a damn.

As my tongue tangles with hers and I take another hit, I slowly let her down on the ground, holding her close to me. We break apart and those beautiful gray eyes of hers are clouded with need. Her body trembles and I feel like a fucking king. She’s completely mine and, though she might deny it, I know she wants anything I give her. My hand slides along the side of her neck and I raise her head up to place a gentle kiss on her lips.

“Button up, querida. I want to get you back to my home,” I tell her. It’s fucking hard to turn down what she’s freely offering me right now.

She swallows, her face heating and her eyes breaking from mine as she starts buttoning her shirt. Something about the move bothers me. I bring her face back up and see the embarrassment there and… something else. Vulnerability? I don’t think I’ve ever met a woman who has had that quality. The women I usually deal with are just as jaded and hardened as I am. I need to remember to take into consideration that she’s different. She’s unlike anyone I’ve ever encountered.

“What?” she asks, her face reddening even more.

“You’re beautiful, mi cielo.” The endearment slips out. I should take that as a warning. Again, it seems I don’t care.

“Skull,” she whispers, and those fucking eyes of hers are glowing. My chest grows tight, but I ignore it and help her button up her shirt. It’s a shame to cover her up; she was made for a man to gaze upon.

“Let’s get out of here,” I tell her, my voice gruff.

“I… I could be—I mean, there’s a chance they’re… looking for me,” she stammers, and her face flushes worse.

Something about the way she says that troubles me. Is she that afraid of being expelled from school? I know she wants to graduate, but can she be so innocent that she thinks she is the first woman to get in trouble for skipping school? Maybe it’s her Catholic upbringing. Did she mention parents? No. Guardians? Fuck, why didn’t I find out more about her? Even as my brain asks that question, I already know the answer: I just wanted to fuck her all along. I still do, but… fuck me sideways, she’s tying me in knots.

“We’ll go out the entrance that leads to the back street. That’s where my bike is,” I tell her, frustrated with myself. I lead her down the path that will go to the small gate at the back of the fence for this section.

“Can I change into my pants? I brought jeans so I could ride…”

I watch her lips, already swollen from my attention, say just that one word: ride. My dick pushes against the zipper of my pants and the poor fucker is begging me to come.

“Go ahead,” I tell her, standing back to wait on her.

“You aren’t going to… you know… turn around?” she asks, and I smile at the rosiness in her cheeks. How many times a day can a woman blush? I have the urge to find out.

“Why?”

“Uh, because I’m going to put on clothes…?”

“Only if you hurry. You can’t kiss a man like you just did me and expect me to be patient long, querida.”

“But—”

“Okay, let’s go,” I tell her, reaching for her hand.

“No, I mean… don’t you think people will notice a girl on the back of a bike in a school uniform? I need to change.”

I shake my head at her. Does she not realize that people will notice her no matter what the fuck she is wearing? I give her a heavy sigh and turn around. I can hear sounds behind me and know she’s digging through her bag for her pants. I’m a bastard and eventually Beth will realize that, but I turn back around and watch as she pulls her skirt up her hips and steps into her blue jeans. I catch a glimpse of small, white cotton fabric and have to adjust my cock. How much bare pussy have I seen? How many thongs or scraps of lace have I seen? Yet Beth in fucking white briefs, which not only cover her pussy but her hips and part of her fucking stomach, makes my dick hard enough to pound rocks into dust. It’s fucking ridiculous. I’m being owned by her damn pussy and I haven’t even been inside of it yet.

Beth looks up as she buttons her pants. She pulls her skirt over the top of the jeans and kicks it off.

“You looked!”

“I’m going to do a hell of a lot more than looking. You ready?”

“I’m starting to not trust you,” she grumbles, but she follows me when I take her hand.

“That’s probably your smartest move yet, querida,” I tell her, even if the fact that she said it annoys me.