Ironically, he never called on me initially, but even when he did, he had a fading voice, like he was already done with me from the start.

It started in the infirmary.

The moon hid behind the clouds, the crisp breeze pushing past the tree by my window. I hadn't felt his presence until he tore the curtain between us open. The moonlight glowed behind his back as I cringed, looking up at his tall and bulky figure strained against his uniform blazer and gray slacks.

It wasn't every day that I was stuck in the school's infirmary with Damon Saint-Hayes, the school's superstar, son of a century-long legacy, and boyfriend of my tormentor. 

He looked down at me, his nose flaring.

I expected him to hit me or mock me or tell me to leave—even though I was injured—but I hadn't expected him to cage me in my bed, his lips to scavenge my neck and leave bruises, for him to rip my uniform and touch me in places I was too scared to touch on my own.

I hadn't expected us to fuck that night.

Yet we did.

Initially, I squirmed, scared even with the heat rising through my body. I didn't want to, I told myself. I was just a lackey. I had to stoop low so people like him could rise. But I could never stoop low to the point I allow this to occur. I had self-respect. I had a plan to never speak until I graduated. So why was Damon Saint-Hayes tearing at my blouse and nipping at my neck?

"Please," I whimpered. 

His lips felt so good against my skin, but when I spoke he stilled. He looks up, his grey eyes boring into me. "You want me to stop?"

I stuttered, and he took that as a chance to sit up, his thick thighs seating my raised legs. He anchors my legs forward, not bothering to kick my loafers off as he pulls up my uniform skirt. "I always liked how low you kept your skirt," he whispered in a low reverberating voice that made my stomach sink. His expression almost looked pained as he unzipped his pants. "I've been waiting for this …"

The lust in his voice was confusing, but I was so anxious and aroused to think clearly as he pulled out and stroked his cock. The veins throbbed against it, and my mouth watered from its height and width.

"I-it won't fit," I tremble.

His large hands squeezed my thighs. "I'll make it fit." He inhaled deeply as he pushed my panties to the side, revealing my pussy, his eyes never left it as my face flushed.

"I should've done this sooner," he growled, his tip brushing my entrance.

Without warning, he plunged his cock into me, filling me completely. I gasped, the sensation overwhelming, and the intrusion so painful the air was knocked out of my lungs. He began to thrust, slowly at first, then picking up pace, his large body moving relentlessly.

His speed increased, his thrusts becoming harder, more animalistic.

He felt my body tightening around him, my moans and cries becoming so loud they echoed off the walls. "You like that?" He growled, his voice thick with desire. "You like being fucked?" His hips slammed into me with force, causing me to gasp for air. "I bet you fucking do." He whispered, his breath hot against my skin. "I'll take you whenever I want." His threat was possessive and dark, and I felt my back arching, my lips parted in utter disbelief.

The room around me spun, the darkness and the candles flickering, mirroring the chaos in my mind. I was at his mercy, the pleasure now intertwined with his. The sounds of my moans and his grunts filled the space, the sounds of the creaking bed as well as the sudden bam of one of my loafers falling off my foot.

I knew that once he was done with me, I'd never be the same. My innocence would be taken, by someone who never in a million years would even see as anything but a dirty rag to do his bidding. I was no one. 

But in that moment, as he fucked me mercilessly, I didn't want it any other way.

I could feel him pushing against my cervix, stretching me to my limit. My body trembled, my pussy clenching around him as he fucked me with all hidden tension and pent-up turmoil.

He pulled out, and without warning, slammed back into me, hitting my sweet spot with a force that made me cry out. "Fuck!" he cried, his massive body shaking with effort.

My body was on fire, my mind swimming in a haze of pleasure and pain. I couldn't take it anymore, my pussy clamped down on him like a vice, milking him for all he was worth.

He let out a roar, his thrusts becoming erratic as he chased his release. His cock swelled inside me, and with one final thrust, he erupted, filling my pussy with his hot seed. 

He collapsed, his chest heaving as he struggled to catch his breath.

I remember us laying there, his heavy weight on my burnt-out body, both of us half-dressed in our sweaty uniforms before he suddenly tensed and rolled off of me. 

It wasn't my first time having sex, and in the past, I still had this warm feeling in my heart. But now I felt so weak, and I didn't understand how he could move around while I couldn't feel my legs. I had this weird urge to cry. I had to bite my lip from trembling as I no longer felt his embrace.

It felt so different—so cold.

We didn't even kiss.

Damon zipped his slacks as he brushed his black hair. He gave me one cold glance before closing the curtain, his silhouette glowing through the fabric. 

I remember his dark tone as he said, "Tell anyone and I'll fucking kill you."