Chapter 2

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I wake up on the first day of class as a Senior in college in my absolute favorite way.

Slowly, I feel myself being pulled from dreamland by a big hand, lazily tracing up my thigh.

The rough, calloused fingers feel heavenly against my skin, or maybe sinful, knowing who lays next to me.

I groan, stretching sleep from my muscles.

"You up?" The deep voice says next to me, his fingers now tracing along the seam of my hip, getting dangerously close to the area that I know is already craving him. I notice that his voice isn't gravely the way it normally is when he's waking up—how long has he been awake?

"Yeah," I say sleepily, even as my eyes began to drift close again. "What time is it?"

"It's a quarter til seven," Sukuna says behind me and I feel the heat of his body against my back as he shifts closer.

"Jesus Christ," I groan, "why the fuck would you wake me up this early?"

I can't help arching my back against him though, probably out of habit, and I smirk when I hear his sharp intake of breath as my ass touches him.

"C'mon, you know I have to go home soon. The boys miss me. I bet Jogo's been throwing temper tantrums and shit without me," he chuckles, the deep sound vibrating deliciously through my body. His hand trails slowly down my spine. "They're going to think I'm such a pussy for staying over here for so long."

I frown, fighting an exasperated groan. It's okay. I know he's a dick. I know he's a piece of shit. I mean, that's why I broke up with him in the first place. I used to yell at him for saying out-of-pocket things, and for some idiodic reason, I had made it my life goal to fix him.

Yeah...there's no fixing Sukuna.

I broke up with him when that become painfully obvious. 

We're not together...but...we do hook up.

Often.

No one else can touch me like he does, and quite frankly, it's nice to not worry about commitment, a boyfriend, relationship goals. It's just his body and mine. Plus the occasional grating comments. Those are just the price I have to pay for this arrangement. 

My thoughts are interrupted as I feel him squeeze my behind and then pull my hips closer to his. I feel how hard he is against my ass. I know what time it is. Just a little more arching and—

"Fuck," he mutters when his dick touches me. My breath shortens and I feel my heart start to pound. It's always like this, there's still that rush, that anticipation at the beginning, right before we have sex. Will I be able to take all of him? Is it going to hurt? Is he going to give it to me hard or be gentle?

He's never been gentle.

I gasp when he rolls his hips, pushes into me. This angle drives him deep right off the bat and I grasp at the sheets in front of me and bite my lip to stop myself from crying out.

One of his hands is still on my hip, sealing me to him, and the way he grips me is just on the edge of pleasure and pain. His other arm is under my neck, hand splayed against my throat. It covers the whole thing. He pushes my head back onto his shoulder and kisses my jaw, neck, shoulder roughly. I have a feeling he's going to leave marks.

"Sukuna, please...fuck" I pant, struggling to get the words out as he pushes hard into me, speeding up the tempo. "I told you...no...hickies!"

It's embarrassing to admit the word "hickies" came out in the loudest moan.

"Get on your knees then," is all he says.

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