Page 68 of Bound to the Dorm Elf
“Only for you.”
My hands find her waist again, sliding under the waistband of her leggings. I push them down over her hips, revealing soft skin and the dark lace of her panties. My cock strains against my pants as I take her in. I hook my fingers into the lace and she nods, giving me permission without words. I pull them down and drop to my knees before her.
Her pussy is already glistening, the scent of her filling my head. I part her thighs gently, kissing up the inside of one until my mouth finds her heat. Her fingers sink into my white hair as I taste her, slow at first, then deeper, my tongue tracing her folds, circling her clit until her breath hitches.
“Rovax—oh—” she gasps, her back pressing to the wall.
I slide two fingers inside her, curling them just right as my mouth works her clit. Her hips move against me, chasing each stroke, her moans growing louder. I keep her there, building her until her whole body tightens and she cries out, coming hard around my fingers.
I stand, kissing her again so she can taste herself on my lips. Her hands fumble with my belt until my cock is free, thick and hard, the obsidian hue flushed darker with heat. She wraps her fingers around me, stroking slowly. “God, you’re big,” she whispers.
I growl low, pressing her back to the wall again as I guide myself to her entrance. “I’ll go slow.”
She nods, bracing her hands on my shoulders. I push into her, inch by inch, feeling her stretch around me. Her mouth falls open, eyes fluttering shut. “Full… so full,” she breathes.
I hold still for a moment, letting her adjust, then start to move — slow thrusts at first, savoring every slick pull of her pussy around my cock. She clings to me, nails digging into my skin, her moans vibrating against my neck.
“Look at me,” I tell her. Her eyes meet mine, wide and wanting. “You’re mine, Skylar.”
Her answer is to tighten around me, pulling me deeper. I thrust harder now, the sound of our bodies filling the small apartment, her cries mixing with my grunts. Her legs wrap around my waist as I take her against the wall, each stroke driving us both closer.
“I’m—Rovax, I’m—” she gasps.
“I’ve got you,” I growl, and thrust deep as she comes again, her pussy clenching hard around me. The sensation rips my own climax from me, spilling deep inside her.
We stay there, breathing hard, foreheads touching, until the world settles again. I kiss her softly this time, and she smiles against my lips.
“You kept me warm,” she murmurs again.
“Always,” I promise.
CHAPTER 24
SKYLAR
It’s almost unnerving how normal everything looks.
The campus is still buzzing with its usual rhythm — lecture halls full of bored undergrads, the steady thump of sneakers on the indoor track, the smell of burnt coffee drifting out of the library café. Nobody’s whispering about a midnight battle in the quad. No emergency alerts in my inbox about giant armored men from another dimension.
If I hadn’t been there, if I didn’t still see the flash of purple light every time I closed my eyes, I might almost believe it hadn’t happened.
Almost.
Because underneath all of that ordinary hum, something’s shifted. I feel it when Rovax looks at me across a room — that quiet acknowledgment of a choice we’ve both already made. Not just in the heat of the fight, but in everything that’s come after.
I catch myself waiting for the sky to split open again. Walking between classes, I glance up more than I used to. At practice, I find my focus snagging on the horizon instead of the pitcher’s glove. Even during late-night coffee runs with Syndee, when I’m supposed to be laughing about some ridiculous thing she’s said, I’m half-listening for a sound that doesn’t belong in this world.
But the days pass.
The world carries on.
And the only thing that feels different is him.
Our moments together have this… edge now. Not sharp like danger — sharp like clarity. Every touch, every look, is laced with the unspoken truth that we’ve stepped off the safe path and neither of us is turning back.
Like last night.
We were sprawled on my bed, a book I’d been pretending to read sliding forgotten to the floor. He was stretched out beside me, one arm tucked behind his head, the other tracing slow, absent-minded shapes along my arm. It wasn’t a heated thing, not like before — it was quieter, deeper. And when I turned my head and met his eyes, I knew he felt it too.
