In a frenzy of heat, Tyler pulls off my clothes and guides me onto his kitchen table on my back and begins covering my body with greedy kisses. His lips are on my neck and then my breast. My nipple is in his hungry mouth. His fingers are brushing lightly against my thigh and then across my hipbone. I arch my back with pleasure at the urgency of his touch, his mouth, his lips.

“Your roommates might come in,” I whisper.

“They’re all out getting postgame pussy,” he says. “We’ve got at least a couple hours.”

“Oh, no,” I gasp out. “I hope nobody catches us fucking!” It’s a reference to one of the line items under Phase Two of Tyler’s syllabus, of course. But I’m also being sincere: If any of his roommates were to catch us in the act, I’d die of embarrassment on the spot.

“No one will catch us,” Tyler growls. “But if they did, it’d be hot as fuck.”

He takes off his shirt, revealing not only his usual hotness but also several horrific-looking welts and bruises on his glorious torso—mementos from the bone-crushing hits he administered in today’s game, no doubt.

“Tyler,” I breathe. “You poor thing.”

“A taste of your pussy and the pain will magically disappear.”

He opens my legs forcefully, nothing like the gentle way he’s opened my legs this past week—and my entire body spasms at this new kind of touch. His tongue finds my clit. Again, his urgency is something new. I arch my back, shoving myself into him fervently. He groans loudly, obviously enjoying my enthusiasm, and the sound of his pleasure sends me over the edge. I let out a low moan as my body begins clenching and rippling into his mouth, and he responds with an animalistic sound that sends shivers across my skin.

By the time my climax has subsided, Tyler’s got a condom stretched onto his massive erection. He pulls a chair out from the kitchen table, sits, and guides me to straddle him. For a brief moment, I stand over him, gawking at his hard-on straining toward my entrance. Every fiber of my body wants to lower myself onto it, but my brain is hesitating. That thing looks like it could impale me.

“You’re gonna love it on top,” he says, reading my mind. “Trust me.”

Well, that’s good enough for me. Because I do trust Tyler. Completely. I position myself over his tip, and he grabs my hips and pushes me down onto him.

I gasp at the sensation of him filling me at this new angle. Oh, man, he’s deeper inside me than he’s ever been. He’s taking my breath away.

“Breathe,” Tyler whispers. “Relax into it.”

I do as I’m told, and my body molds to him comfortably.

“Now ride me,” he commands. He grabs the back of my neck. “Hump me, back and forth. Snap your hips and rub your clit against my dick as you ride me.”

I follow his instructions and, instantly, my body explodes with pleasure. “Oh.”

“Good?”

“Really good.”

I hump him until we’re both in a frenzy.

“I’m gonna slide my thumb up your ass now,” Tyler grits out. His voice is husky with desire. “Keep riding me, cowgirl.”

I never thought the idea of Tyler or anyone sticking a thumb or anything else up my ass would turn me on, but I’ll be damned, I’m enthralled by the idea. I nod.

“Yes?”

“Yes,” I gasp.

His thumb enters me and pushes gently past the thick ring of muscles at my entrance. I gasp at the unexpectedly pleasurable sensation and begin riding him even harder, my body flooded with a new kind of pleasure.

After a moment, Tyler does…something…back there. What the hell is he doing in my ass? And all of a sudden, I’m so freaking turned on, I can’t control my body. I feel like he’s just slammed his foot down onto my body’s gas pedal.

“Holy shit,” Tyler chokes out. “Someone likes ass play.”

I’m wailing with pleasure. Screaming Tyler’s name. Suddenly, I feel like my eyes are about to roll back into my head.

And then…

A supernatural stillness overtakes me. Time stops. My skin erupts with goose bumps. My toes curl.

Heaven.

Shockwaves of pleasure shoot through my every nerve ending, all at once, zinging into my toes and fingertips and clit and ass with unyielding force. I jerk around for a moment on top of Tyler like a sinner at a Baptist revival, until finally, blessedly, I throw my arms around his neck and collapse into a sweaty pile of goo.

Tyler wraps his powerful arms around my back and pulls me close—so close, my breasts smash into his chest. “That was amazing,” he whispers, his breathing labored. “The best sex I’ve ever had.”

I take a deep breath, trying to steady my racing heart. “For me, too.”

“That statement means absolutely nothing coming from you, Zooey.”

I giggle. “What the hell just happened? I felt like I was possessed by a demon.”

Tyler kisses my bare shoulder. “That, my dear, was your first all-body orgasm. Ten times more powerful than a clitoral orgasm. The holy grail.”

“It felt amazing.”

“For me, too. I’ve never felt a G-spot orgasm from the inside before. I’ve only made it happen with my fingers until you.” He sighs contentedly. “God, that felt incredible. The minute you started squeezing my cock so hard, I lost it.”

I bite his ear lobe and press myself into him. “I want to do it again.”

“Oh, you will, eager beaver. I’ll order you a G-spot vibrator online so you can practice and get good at it. That way, it’ll become second nature for you.”

I nuzzle his nose. “I don’t want a vibrator. I want you.”

“Sweetheart, you want a vibrator. Whenever we’re apart, I want you to use it. The better you get at getting yourself off from your G-spot, the more you’ll get off from my cock when we fuck. Think of it like training for game day.”

I bite his earlobe again. “Okay, coach. Whatever you say. Get me a vibrator. Get me a thousand vibrators.” I grab his cheeks and press my forehead against his. I feel unleashed. “Just as long as you do that thing to me again one more time tonight.”

He smiles. “Sorry, baby. Not tonight. I played football and traveled today, remember? I’m wiped. There’s a reason I pulled you on top of me. I can barely move.”

I pull back slightly, suddenly feeling like an insensitive idiot. “I’m so sorry. Do you need ice or something?”

“Yeah, actually. There are ice packs in the freezer. Thanks.”

I clamber off him and bound to the freezer, my pulse pounding in my ears. “No wonder you said you need to rest up on Sundays. You poor thing.” I hand him a couple of icepacks and begin scooping my clothes off the floor. “No need to drive me home tonight. I’ll call the late-night campus service so you can crash.”

“Zooey, don’t be lame. You’ve misunderstood me.”

I abruptly stop picking up my clothes and stare at him blankly.

“I was hoping you’d crash here tonight. With me.”

I’m astonished. “You want me to spend the night here?”

“Yeah. I was thinking maybe I could persuade you to kiss my bruises for me before I fall asleep.” He smiles. “And then when I wake up in the morning, I promise I’ll turn you into a demon again.”

My mouth is hanging open.

“I’ve got an extra toothbrush,” Tyler adds quickly, apparently feeling the need to further argue his point. “And you can wear one of my T-shirts to sleep in, if you want. Unless you’d prefer to sleep naked. No argument from me there.”

I’m floored. It’s one thing for Tyler to want to have a little postgame sex with me on a Saturday night, but now he wants me to spend the night?

“So will you stay?” Tyler asks.

I feel the urge to jump for joy, but I manage to keep my cool. “It depends. Which of your T-shirts would you loan me to wear?”

“Well, unfortunately, I don’t own a T-shirt that says Phase Two Is My Bitch! So I guess I’ll have to settle for the one that says Hot as Fuck. If you in that shirt isn’t an elephant wearing an elephant T-shirt, then I don’t know what is.”

If he blew on me, I’d tip over. “Great,” I say. “And don’t worry, I’ll get my morning nookie tomorrow and head right out. I’ve got lots of homework to do.”

“Well, there’s no need to rush off. My roommates and I get breakfast at this diner in the Village every Sunday. You should come. I mean, you’ve got to eat, right?”

What on earth happened to the guy who said doing his own thing on Sundays is “sacred” to him? I nod. “I love breakfast. Most important meal of the day.”

“Absolutely. And you don’t need to rush off after breakfast, either. Sundays are all about resting up, watching a little football, catching up on homework. There’s no reason you can’t hang out and do all that with me. You can do whatever homework you’ve got while I’m doing mine.”

I’m stupefied. Mind-fucked beyond comprehension. Is he punking me? “Great,” I say cautiously. “Why don’t we work on our class projects tomorrow for a bit, too? I’ve noticed we’ve been spending a disproportionate amount of time on our ‘miseducation project’ while neglecting the other two. Not that I’m complaining about that, mind you.” I snicker.

“You know what? You’re totally right. We’ve absolutely been neglecting our class projects. Totally irresponsible of us. Inexcusable.” He gets up gingerly from his chair, his angry bruises and welts making me grimace for him, and tosses his used condom into a trash can. “Come on, Zooey Cartwright. Time for us to crash. It’s the only responsible thing to do, after all. Crash tonight and work on our class projects tomorrow.” He flashes me a cocky grin. “As anyone will tell you, baby, I’m nothing if not responsible.”