WHISPERER

“Why stop now?”

Jade’s voice cut through the dark as she peered at Luke, her breath hot and impatient against his skin. Disappointment carved lines across her face. Her thighs locked around him, urging him to continue, but he had gone still above her, chest heaving.

Luke’s breath came in ragged bursts, sweat dripping from his temples and trailing down the ridges of his neck to his chest. His eyes darted across the dim room, searching. “I heard something,” he managed, voice tight, almost strangled. “I’m not sure we’re alone.”

“I heard nothing,” Jade interjected sharply. She wrapped her arms around his waist and pulled him closer, her nails biting into his skin. The rose-scented candle flickered faintly at the edge of the bed, throwing trembling shadows across the walls. The air was heavy with wax, sweat, and the musk of their bodies.

She ground her hips upward, desperate. “Don’t stop, Luke. Not now. Not when you’re hitting me right there.”

He hesitated, caught between her demand and the prickling fear crawling across his scalp. His heart thundered. He could still feel that sound—or was it a voice?—lurking in the room’s stillness.

But Jade tightened her hold, her legs locked around him like chains. “Come on, Luke. Quit acting like a child.”

Her words stung him back into the moment. He dropped his gaze, and his eyes narrowed on her breasts rising with each impatient breath. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “Your beauty is beyond rejection,” he murmured, fingers trailing along her thighs. He caressed her skin slowly, savoring the warmth beneath his palms.

Jade answered with a sly, flirtatious smile. She pressed his hips, urging him back inside her.

They had no time to waste. The school’s rules were merciless: no male students in the female dorms. But they had arrived a day early for the new semester, and for one night the building was nearly empty. By morning, Jade’s roommate would return and privacy would vanish. This was their stolen chance.

Her mind flashed back to high school, to prom night—the night she gave him her virginity, the night she made him hers. Since then, she couldn’t let him go. The way he moved inside her, the way he made her body surrender, was something no other girl would ever taste in her boyfriend.

She spread herself wide, eyes glittering as Luke slid his hardness back into her. A gasp escaped her lips, trembling between a moan and a cry. Her mouth parted, her head tilting back against the pillow as her body welcomed him.

“Harder,” she whispered, then louder, desperate. “Hit me hard.”

The bed creaked under their rhythm, each thrust rattling its old wooden frame. Her fists clenched against the sheets, knuckles white. His hands wandered—rough, eager, squeezing her breasts like ripe fruit, coaxing from her another cascade of moans. She clawed at his back, her pleasure rising like a storm.

“I love you, Luke,” she groaned, her voice breaking with the