Riley's palms pressed flat against the cold metal shelf, fingers digging in until the thin steel bit into her skin. She arched deeper, spine curving like a drawn bow, ass lifted high, thighs trembling just enough to betray the adrenaline still screaming through her veins. The black lace thong remained hooked cruelly to one side—useless now, soaked and stretched, a thin dark line framing the glistening pink of her exposed sex. The red emergency light washed over her in waves: flushed rose across her shoulders and the small of her back, deep crimson shadows collecting in the valley of her spine, a slick, obscene sheen catching the glow between her parted legs.
Ethan stepped forward until the heat of his body blanketed hers. His cock—still glistening from her mouth, thick and flushed dark—brushed first along the crease of her ass, heavy and deliberate, painting a slow wet line that made her shiver. He gripped her hips with both hands, thumbs digging into the soft flesh just above her hip bones, spreading her wider. The broad head nudged her entrance, parting slick folds with agonizing patience.
Riley sucked air through her teeth. "Come in. Do it now.."
He didn't tease.
One long, unrelenting push.
She stretched around him—hot, slick velvet yielding inch by torturous inch. Ethan's jaw locked; his teeth ground together so hard he tasted copper. The sensation hit like a freight train: the tight ring of muscle fluttering open, the greedy clutch of her walls trying to pull him deeper, the wet, filthy sound of her body accepting every thick centimeter until his hips met the plush curve of her ass and he was buried to the hilt.
Riley's moan unraveled from somewhere deep in her chest—low at first, then climbing into something raw and broken. "Fuuuuck… so fucking deep… Ethan—"
He froze there for one heartbeat, letting her feel him. All of him. The heavy throb of his pulse inside her, the way his balls pressed flush against her swollen clit, the stretch that bordered on too much. Her thighs quivered violently; a fresh trickle of arousal slid down the inside of one leg.
Then he withdrew—slow, deliberate—until only the flared crown remained caught inside her.
And slammed back in.
The impact rocked her forward onto her toes. The shelf rattled violently; a glass beaker somewhere above clinked precariously against its neighbor. Riley cried out—sharp, surprised ecstasy—nails scraping metal.
Ethan found his rhythm: hard, punishing strokes that drove her body forward with every thrust. Each plunge ended with the wet slap of skin on skin, his hips crashing into her ass, sending ripples across the firm flesh. Each withdrawal dragged a needy, desperate whimper from her throat.
"You like that?" he growled low against the nape of her neck, voice gravel scraped raw.
"Yes—God yes—don't you fucking stop—"
There is no way he could stop.The was all instinct driven.
His left hand slid up the elegant line of her spine, fingers threading into sweat-damp blonde strands. He tugged—gently at first, testing—then firmer, tilting her head back until he could see her face in profile: lips parted on gasping breaths, eyes glassy and half-lidded, cheeks stained dark crimson, mascara smudged into faint dark wings.
His right hand stayed clamped on her hip, guiding her back onto every brutal thrust, meeting her halfway with bruising force.
Riley pushed back greedily—hips rolling in tight, filthy circles whenever he bottomed out, grinding her clit against the pressure of his pelvis. The added friction made her shudder violently; her inner walls fluttered and clenched like she was trying to trap him inside forever.
"Touch yourself," Ethan ordered, voice low and wrecked.
Riley obeyed instantly. Her right hand abandoned the shelf and dove between her thighs. Two fingers found her clit—swollen, slick, hypersensitive—and circled fast, frantic, matching the punishing rhythm of his cock.
The added stimulation made her clamp down like a vise.
Ethan groaned—deep,like an animal. "Fuck, Riley… you're squeezing me so goddamn tight."
She laughed—breathless, broken—then moaned when he shifted his angle just right and hammered that spot inside her again and again.
"There—right fucking there—Ethan—don't—don't stop—"
He pounded harder, chasing that angle relentlessly. The shelf groaned under the assault; a plastic bottle of lab detergent toppled and rolled across the floor with a dull clatter. Neither of them registered it.
Sweat slicked every inch of exposed skin. Her back glistened like polished marble in the red light; beads rolled down his chest, dripping onto the small of her back. The closet reeked now—thick musk, salt, the sharp tang of her arousal, the faint metallic bite of fear-sweat still lingering underneath.
Riley's fingers flew faster on her clit. Her moans fractured into choppy, desperate little cries.
"I'm—close—fuck—I'm gonna cum—Ethan—"
"Cum on my cock," he rasped, voice fraying at the edges. "Let me feel it. Milk me dry."
The command shattered her.
Riley came apart with a strangled scream.
Her entire body seized—back bowing sharply, thighs quaking, inner walls spasming wildly around his length in rhythmic, greedy pulses. A hot gush of wetness coated his shaft, dripping down her thighs in thick rivulets. She cried his name—sharp, broken—then sank her teeth into her own forearm to muffle the rest, leaving perfect crescent indents on pale skin.
The sight—her head thrown back, body trembling violently, pussy clenching and fluttering like it was trying to pull his soul out through his cock—snapped the last thread of Ethan's control.
He thrust once—deep, punishing—twice more—then buried himself to the root and came.
Hard.
Pulse after searing pulse flooded her, thick and hot, painting her insides. His vision tunneled to white; the fever that had been gnawing at his marrow for hours dissolved into blinding, electric ecstasy. Every spurt felt like it was dragging the infection out of his bloodstream, replacing rot with something clean, vital, alive.
Riley whimpered at the sensation—deep, claiming heat filling her completely. Her walls fluttered again, weaker this time, drawing out his release until he was shaking against her back, hips jerking with aftershocks.
They stayed locked together, chests heaving, sweat mingling where skin touched skin.
The blue light exploded in Ethan's vision—brighter, more insistent than before.
[Vitality Transfer: Phase 2 Complete]
[Infection Meter: 80.0 %]
[Riley Harper – Bond Rank: E → D]
[Shared Stat Boost Applied: +18% Strength | +20% Recovery Rate]
[Riley Harper Unlocked Skill: Flame Dash – Short burst of explosive speed with afterburn effect (Cooldown: 90 seconds)]
[Bond Synergy Bonus: Mutual stamina regeneration during physical contact]
[Warning: Bond synergy increasing. Prolonged separation may cause mild withdrawal symptoms in both parties.]
Riley let out a shaky, incredulous laugh that ended in a soft moan. "I… holy shit. I felt that. Like lightning shooting through every vein. I'm buzzing."
Ethan eased out slowly—both of them hissing at the sudden emptiness and oversensitivity. A thick, pearly trickle of his cum followed immediately, sliding down the inside of her thigh in a slow, obscene line. He turned her gently in his arms, pulling her sweat-slick body against his chest.
She rested her forehead on his shoulder, still trembling faintly. "That was… insane. I've never come that hard in my life."
"Yeah." He pressed a soft, almost reverent kiss to the crown of her head, inhaling the scent of coconut shampoo mixed with sex. "You okay? Really?"
She tilted her face up. Eyes glassy, pupils still blown wide, but the fear from earlier was gone—replaced by something bright and fierce. "Better than okay. I feel… strong. Like I could sprint through a wall and keep going. Like nothing can touch me right now."
He smiled—small, tired, but genuine. "Good. Because we're gonna need every bit of that."
Outside the door, the frantic pounding from earlier had quieted. Replaced by something worse: low, guttural growls rolling down the hallway like distant thunder, the slow, deliberate scrape of heavy furniture being dragged across tile.
Riley straightened slowly, wiping the sticky trail from her inner thigh with the ruined hem of her dress. She tugged the thong back into place with a wince—fabric clinging wetly to oversensitive skin—then stepped into the pooled silk of her gown and shimmied it up her hips.
Ethan reached for his discarded pants, belt buckle clinking softly in the sudden quiet.
Riley paused halfway into zipping her dress, glancing at him over her shoulder. "We should get back out there before Coach V thinks we ghosted the group. Or before Sophia starts asking questions she doesn't want the answer to."
"Yeah." He yanked his shirt over his head, not bothering with buttons. "But Riley…"
She turned fully, one eyebrow arched, hair a wild blonde tangle around her flushed face.
"Thank you,for trusting me." he said quietly. With genuine, raw gratitude.
She smirked—classic Riley, sharp and cocky even with swollen lips and sex-mussed hair. "Don't go getting all sappy on me now, Kane. You still owe me at least two more rounds before the sun comes up. Maybe three if you're lucky."
He chuckled—low, rough, the sound scraping pleasantly in his throat. "Deal. But only if you don't bite me again. That hurt."
"Liar," she shot back,kissed his cheek,grinning. "I know you loved it."
Ethan was blushing hard and trying to stop his very best to not claim her again.
They finished dressing in hurried silence—clothes wrinkled beyond repair, hair wrecked, skin still flushed and sticky—but both of them moved with new purpose. The weakness that had been gnawing at Ethan's limbs was gone; in its place was clean, electric strength. Riley rolled her shoulders experimentally, and a faint red shimmer flickered around her fist for half a second—like heat haze off summer asphalt—before fading.
When they cracked the supply closet door and slipped back into the chem lab, twenty-one heads swiveled in unison.
Coach V stood near the barricaded entrance, fire extinguisher still in hand like a club. Her eyebrow climbed slowly. "You two good?"
Riley shrugged with exaggerated nonchalance, smoothing her dress like she hadn't just been fucked senseless against a shelf. "Yeah, we were just… strategizing. You know. Survival plans."
Sophia's gaze narrowed, flicking between them with the precision of a laser sight. Her lips pressed into a thin line, but she said nothing.
Luna—still clutching her dead phone like a talisman—grinned wide enough to show teeth. "Strategizing, huh? Looked like a very hands-on meeting from where I was sitting."
A few nervous laughs rippled through the group—relief more than humor.
Ethan ignored them. He could feel the new power humming under his skin: stronger grip, clearer head, faster reflexes. The infection meter sat at 80%—still deadly, but no longer an immediate death sentence. And Riley… she moved differently now. Lighter than before.
But the night wasn't done with them.
A fresh crash echoed from the hallway—glass exploding inward, wood splintering like matchsticks. Something big. Something that didn't sound human anymore.
Riley cracked her knuckles. A faint red glow licked around her fist again—brighter this time, lingering a full second before winking out.
Ethan met her eyes across the lab bench.
She nodded once—sharp and certain.
Together.
He grabbed a heavy lab stool by the legs, hefting it like a makeshift club. Riley scooped up a broken broom handle from the corner, twirling it experimentally. The rest of the group scrambled—Coach V barking orders, Sophia directing freshmen to the back, Luna filming again like this was content instead of a nightmare.
The barricade shuddered.
A low, wet snarl rolled under the door.
Ethan stepped forward, Riley falling in at his right shoulder.
The door buckled inward.