The Quarterback’s Broken Girl

Elise’s
Every time Damien speaks, I feel myself shrinking, waiting for the edge in his voice to turn cruel. But it never does. He is blunt, yes, but not in the way I have come to fear. He pushes, but not too hard, as if he knows I might break. That unsettles me more than his sharp grin or the way every girl on campus watches him walk by.
I keep telling myself he is dangerous, that his type will ruin me, but my body betrays me. My pulse stumbles when his hand brushes mine. My stomach twists when his attention lingers too long. And deep down, I am terrified of what will happen if I stop running from him. Because for the first time in years, part of me wonders what it would feel like to trust a man again.


His hot breath makes me sigh. “And I would like your cock.”
“Already?”
“Yes.”
“Careful, Paulina…” Adrian warns. “You are so tight.” He slides one thick finger inside me, and I shut my eyes as he adds another. I clench around them, and he breathes a low laugh. “My cock is much, much bigger than this. Do you think you can handle it?”
My answer is a breathless gasp. “Yes…” The truth is, I might actually die if I do not feel him inside me. I am pulsating with need. “Fuck me, Adrian.”
A dark, low chuckle rumbles from his chest.
His fingers slide deeper, finding a perfect, sensitive spot. He works me there, his touch slow and expert. It is not long before my breaths are coming in short, ragged pants.
“Ungh…” I moan. “That feels so good…”