Page 90 of Freshman

Alfie closed his eyes, parted his lips and felt himself being owned, felt himself being claimed and wanted by Nate.

Even with his eyes closed, he grew dizzy, fuzzy around the edge of consciousness. The black of his eyelids wasn’t scary, it was welcoming, and he zoned out until he was unaware of himself, could only feel an addictive tingle but couldn’t equate it to a body part. All of him felt good, emotionally and physically, and he welcomed the abyss, smiled fondly and asked it to take him.

“I’m going to come inside you.”

Alfie nodded desperately.

Nate swallowed. “For the first time—”

“Yes, please, yes,” Alfie chanted, but Nate wasn’t done.

“For the first time,” Nate said. “But not for the last. You hear me, Alfie, not for the last.”

“Nate—”

“But you've got to do something for me first.”

Alfie whimpered, forcing his eyes open. He pleaded with Nate. “What?”

Nate didn’t falter in his thrusts; he slammed against Alfie’s prostate as he forced Alfie’s disobedient hand back to the bed frame. Alfie clutched on.

“You’re going to come again,” Nate said, grabbing the back of Alfie’s knees and pushing, bending them. “You’re going to come again because I’m telling you to. Because I know how close you are.”

He folded Alfie, exposing him, looking down at where his cock slipped in and out. His breath hitched, and he wiped his sweaty brow on his shoulder. “Fuck, you’re gorgeous like this.”

Alfie whined lowly.

“But you’d look even better covered in your cum,” Nate said, finding the right angle to set Alfie off.

His cum hit his chest before the orgasm registered, slapping against his skin as he lost himself.

Nate leaned down to swallow Alfie’s cry, smothering it with wet kisses as his hips stuttered and jerked before he exploded as deep as he could inside Alfie’s body.

He let go of Alfie’s knees and pressed himself flush against Alfie. His huge body covered him, and even though Alfie’s chest glistened with cum and Nate’s weight made it difficult to breathe, he shut his eyes and drifted.

21

“Freshman?”

Alfie’s eyelids were too heavy to open, but he heard the panicked voice and felt patches of pins and needles on his face. The rest of him felt warm and light, and he didn’t want to know what the danger was.

“You need to wake up.”

He felt sated and safe, and he wasn’t moving for anyone. The patches of his face fizzled with heat, and he realised hands cupped his cheeks, spreading warmth and getting firmer in their touch. Alfie struggled to open his eyes, and when he did, Nate’s all-consuming blue ones stared back. No longer blown black with lust or crinkled at the edges with smugness.

They were wide and worried.

“You’ve got to get out.”

Alfie stopped his smile from forming and drew his eyebrows together. Nate’s words stung, worse than stung, they split his head and his heart open. The rejection, he should’ve known it was coming, but it hurt worse than ever before. All jagged and slicing, it was difficult to accept. He choked at the sudden tightness to his throat and struggled free of Nate’s hands.

Nate growled and scrunched up his face. “Don’t look at me like that. I don’t want you upset, but they’re asking for you.”

Alfie didn’t know who they were, and he turned in the direction Nate flicked his chin.

On the floor were his clothes. Black trousers, black shoes, black tie and white shirt with his officer number. He was on Nate’s bed, inside his cell. The realness of the situation hit Alfie, and he struggled to breathe.

Nate rubbed his arm, but he didn’t feel it. Beneath his shirt on the floor, a voice hissed. Henry demanded he answer his radio, and by the sound of his pissed voice, he had been asking for a while.

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