Aftermath

The velvet booth reeked of sweat and sex, the air thick enough to **** on. Emily slumped bonelessly against John's chest, her breath coming in shallow, uneven gasps as aftershocks trembled through her thighs. His release trickled down her inner thighs, still joined with him in the most intimate way possible—she'd never felt so thoroughly claimed in her life.

John's hands shook where they hovered over Emily's bare hips. "Christ," he rasped, voice raw. His softening cock twitched inside her at the accidental contact, betraying him even as horror tightened his throat.

Emily lifted her head slowly, her blue eyes glassy with spent pleasure. She watched his Adam's apple bob with fascinated delight, tracing the sweat-damp hollow of his throat with her tongue before whispering, "I can still feel you inside me." Her hips rolled instinctively, wringing a weak pulse from his oversensitive length that made them both shudder.

John gripped her waist hard—equal parts restraint and desperation—as he pulled free with a wet sound that sent heat flooding Emily's cheeks. "This can't happen again," he said through clenched teeth, even as his traitorous cock twitched against her thigh, still glistening with her arousal.

Emily's lips curved in a slow, knowing smile as she smoothed her ruined dress down over trembling legs. "You say that," she murmured, rocking forward just enough to make his breath catch, "but can you hold yourself to it?” Her fingers brushed the damp head of him almost absently, smearing their mixed release before bringing her fingertips to her mouth with deliberate slowness.

John's hands clenched into fists at his sides, the knuckles whitening. "Emily, I mean it—this stops now." His voice came out rougher than intended, the words scraping his throat raw. "We can't—you can't—" He swallowed hard, watching the way her lower lip trembled almost imperceptibly before she caught it between her teeth.

Emily slid off his lap with exaggerated care, smoothing the wrinkled blue dress over her thighs where his release still glistened on her skin. "Right," she said, too brightly, turning her back to him as she adjusted the straps of her dress with trembling fingers. "Of course. Wouldn't want to tarnish the school's sterling reputation." The bitterness in her tone surprised even herself—she hadn't meant to let it slip.

John reached for her shoulder but aborted the movement halfway. "It's not—"

"—about me being a student?" Emily interrupted, pivoting on one heel to face him. Her blue eyes shone suspiciously bright under the photo booth's dim lights. "Save it. I get it." She **** a laugh that sounded more like a choked sob. "Oh and maybe check on Victoria, Principal Lee. She was pregaming pretty hard earlier—wouldn't her in trouble, would we?"

The velvet curtain muffled the sudden swell of music as Emily shoved through it—just loud enough to drown out whatever weak protest John attempted. She didn't look back as she strode back across the gymnasium, her strappy heels clicking against the hardwood.