Page 169 of Filthy Elites

Blissed out, I don’t move as he steps back, taking his heat with him. I should cover myself. I should be ashamed, but all I feel is warm all over. I’m trying to get my arms and legs to cooperate when I hear the metal tines on his zipper. I look up and see him standing over me, cock hard in his hand. He strokes up and down the length, the muscles in his forearm tense.

It’s the third time I’ve seen Miller come, and I’m starting to recognize the signs of when he’s close. His forehead creases, and his eyelids get heavy. His breath grows ragged, mingled with a deep rumble in his chest. His cock is thick, swelling fat and long in his hand, and the way he moves—it’s obvious he’s done this many times before. He’s an expert, pushing and pulling at the skin, the muscle underneath. I should be disgusted.

I’m enthralled.

I sit up to get a better view, but his hand shoots out and pushes me back.

“Lie back, Kitten,” he bites out, the cords of his neck strain as he gets closer. The muscles in his lower abdomen cave and tense. Miller straddles my legs and gives his cock one last tug, then bucks forward, groaning.

Cum shoots forward, hot and sticky, landing on my belly and chest, in thick ropey spurts. He milks it until there’s nothing left, just the shiny, red tip. There’s no noise in the room other than his breathing. The numbness has left my limbs, and all I feel his semen pooling on my belly.

“Goddamn,” he mutters, “every time is better.” He grins up at me. “Don’t you think?”

“I think you’re crazy,” I blurt. It’s the truth.

He grabs his shirt off the floor and wipes his cock. Then bends over me and cleans off my skin with a disturbing gentleness.

“You like it, Kitten. Your pussy was sloppy wet, and I felt you quiver on my tongue.”

I cover myself and sit up, suddenly self-conscious. “You forced me.”

“Sometimes we have to be encouraged to try new things.” He shrugs. “It’s not my fault Royer didn’t pleasure you.”

“Don’t talk about Royer.” I’m standing now, grabbing my clothes. Looking for an exit. Being around Miller is dangerous. “You’ll obviously do anything to bring him down.”

“The weird thing,” he says, pulling up his jeans. “Is that you’re still protecting him. Why? What did that man give you?” His lips curve upward. “Definitely not an orgasm like that.”

“I don’t owe you an explanation.” But he does have control. Once I’m dressed, I stand by the door. “Can I leave now?”

He stares at me for a long moment, working the tight muscle in the back of his jaw. He walks over and opens the door. A member walks by and he says, “Number forty-seven is finished helping me unpack. Take him to the field so he can do his laps.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Wait… what?” I stare at him. “You want me to—”

“Talk back to me, forty-seven and I’ll double it.” The soft, post-orgasmic glint in his eye is gone, and it’s been replaced with the mean cold gaze of entitlement. He took what he wanted and is done with me.

I step into the hall, following the member toward the stairs, hearing the firm click of the bedroom door as it shuts. If I thought Miller was going to be an ally in here, I was wrong. He’s the same thing he’s always been: a fucking asshole.

TWELVE

Reagan

The next morning we’re given a pager, blindfolded, and herded onto a shuttle. We’re dropped on the outskirts of campus, near the campus bus stop.

“Remember, goats, what happens during the gauntlet stays in the gauntlet,” Rat says from the front of the shuttle. “Squealers get eliminated.”

He doesn’t say more, but the implication is there. No second chances.

A yawn rips through me, and I cover my mouth. After leaving Miller’s room and doing my run, I only got three hours of sleep. I’m barely functioning as we’re told we can remove the blindfolds. I follow the line of pledges out down the middle of the shuttle, tripping on one of the steps. A hand reaches out and grabs my hip.

I turn back and see Miller sitting in the front row. I didn’t even realize he was here. “Be careful, goat.”

I blink and continue off the shuttle and onto the sidewalk. Everything in my life has been turned upside down in the last week. New school, blacklisted, dumped, humiliated, and given an entirely new look and gender. But the worst part is Miller Hansen entering my life.

At least I know he can’t hurt me out here—or force himself on me. Not in public. Not on campus. I look up at the window and see him staring down at me, winking when he catches my eye.

At least I think he can’t do any of those things.

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