Teen Rebellion // S.R. ✓

CHAPTER SIXTEEN !

(smut chapter)*

November 28th — Monday

"Dammit," you curse into Spencer's mouth as you stumble over a stack of school chairs.

"Shh," Spencer replies, pushing your body back onto a teacher's desk.

You turn your head to look at the desk, trying to find some form of plaque or assignment with their name on it, but the desk was empty. Spencer kisses your neck, feathering his lips down to your chest where the collar of your shirt is now stretched out. "Spence, what room are we in?" you ask through breaths.

He gently sucks on your skin, causing you to groan very softly under your breath. "This isn't anyone's room," he murmurs, quickly returning to the kisses on your chest. His hands flow down your body and under your shirt, meeting every groove and crevice that makes up your sides.

You lean your head back, your hand moving into his hair while your other is placed on the top of the desk. "How did you- you don't have a key." Your statement mixes with a hint of curiousness, yourself truly wondering how he got into the room.

You didn't see him bring out a key from his pocket or even a paperclip to open the door, but Spencer is very secretive when it comes to sneaking out or into a place so he may have done either or.

He peppers soft kisses up the side of your neck, kissing along your jaw. "The door was open," he whispers into your ear, sending your stomach into a swarming nest of butterflies. "I locked it though, when I pulled you in," he clarifies, almost knowing you would ask that question.

You nod your head slowly, trying to catch your breath while he sucks and lapses his tongue over the slight redness formed on your skin. When he runs his lips alongside your body, he sucks and returns the slight aggression with another kiss, as if he's apologizing.

While Spencer has assured you that he locked the door, you still can't bear looking away from the sliver of light that creeps in on the carpet. You stare at the feet walking by, the sounds of shoes clicking and stomping against the floor has you on edge, but you feel so in the moment it isn't entirely what you're worried about.

You're more worried about where Spencer's lustful kisses will lead to. Your heart will not stop thumping in your ears and your legs are locked shut together to stop the throbbing that only grows after every wet kiss.

Your fingers twist into the roots of his hair, your grip so tight from the pure bliss he ejects into your body. He grunts into your neck from the pulling and pushing of his head, his breaths trickling down the side of your body. Your skin turns into a valley of mountains, goosebumps on every inch of blank space until no patch is smooth. You climb onto the desk and wrap your legs around Spencer's, drawing him closer to your body.

He centers himself between your legs, his hands pressured around your face and in your hair. He returns to your lips, kissing both top and bottom lip before piecing his and yours together, his violent tongue finding its way into your mouth. His tongue guides around your mouth, finding and meeting yours for fractions of seconds.

Your hands trail down his slim body, finding your placement underneath his black T-shirt on his low torso. You dig your nails into his soft pale skin, leaving four marks of your our out of five fingernails. His hums on your lips vibrate down your body, shaking everything in your body- everything. You grunt into the kiss, sexual frustration feasting upon you due to no action taking place to resolve the ache between your thighs.

He's so close to you, you can almost feel his bulge pressing the center of your thigh. You're in tights today, meaning that whatever is forming in the confines of his pants, you can feel it if he simply moves deeper into your spread legs.