Chapter 36

Chapter 36

Amelia's POV

Something hard pressed against my palm.

I wasn't fully awake yet, and the thing was poking into my waist, reminding me of a very old fairy tale about a princess and a pea.

I smiled unconsciously, then grabbed the hard thing, trying to pull it away.

As I applied force, I felt a wave of warmth and heard a sharp intake of breath that wasn't mine.

I opened my eyes.

Samuel was staring at me.

"Good morning," he said, his composure quite admirable given his current predicament.

I looked down at my hand, then at the thing that had woken me—his hard, erect penis standing upright.

"How long," I asked, "has this been going on?"

"About," he chose his words carefully, "a few minutes?"

"You know, for a young man sleeping with his lover, this is quite normal, especially in the morning."

I thought for a moment. "You didn't wake me."

"You looked peaceful."

His tone carried a hint of complaint, but his expression and movements were entirely compliant.

Even though my grip might have been a bit too firm, he made no attempt to rescue his penis from my grasp, allowing me to knead it while merely tightening his jawline.

I laughed. "You're still injured."

"I know." He looked up at the ceiling, his expression mournful. "I didn't—"

"So," I sat up and adjusted my position—

Then straddled him.

His eyes widened.

I was satisfied with his expression. "So now you have to listen to me."

I pulled down his shorts.

"I've always listened to you... hiss." His abdominal muscles tensed beneath my body.

I could feel the part touching my buttocks growing even harder.

Not very comfortable.

I firmly pressed him down onto the bed. "Relax."

He was stiff as a board, while I patiently found the right position, rocking twice to let that hidden keyhole and key rub against each other repeatedly until it became wet.

Then I tightened my thighs and sat down hard.

"Ahh—"

We both let out a sigh simultaneously.

I sat on his penis, rocking back and forth twice, somewhat pleased with myself.

"You can only lie there."

Samuel's face was completely flushed, and he seemed to want to prop himself up several times but forced himself to resist.

"Okay, I'll lie still... but I really can't—"

"Can't." I patted his thigh. "Too hard. I prefer a softer cushion."

He took a deep breath, tried to relax, and pleaded softly.

"Move a little... please, Amelia, miss..."

I smiled triumphantly, pressing my hands on his full chest, lifting my hips, and began searching for a rhythm.

At first, neither of us had any regularity.

He kept making unbearable whimpers but remained obediently still throughout.

This wasn't an easy position, but fortunately the exercise during this period had given me decent stamina, and I learned quickly.

After a few minutes, I found the right posture and gained pleasure from it.

I collapsed entirely onto his body, rocking back and forth, like riding a strong wild horse.

Uncontrollable growls emerged from his throat, and even though he wasn't moving, sweat broke out, and soon his eyes reddened too.

He raised his arm to cover his eyes, showing a conquered expression.

I absolutely loved him like this.

Before my strength was completely exhausted, I felt the penis inside me suddenly swell again and throb—

Samuel urgently pushed me, I rolled off him, and he immediately reached his peak.

"Am I..." he said weakly, "in heaven? Or is this a dream?"

I smiled and got up to put on my clothes.

"You have enough time to contemplate. When I came, I heard the doctor hopes you won't leave the bed today."

He groaned, and I pulled open the hospital room door.

"And healthy people always have more things to do. Goodbye, my class is in an hour."

The early morning school hospital was very quiet, no one noticed me walking out.

On the way back to the dorm, the air was cool and still. I arrived just as the dorm was opening and ran into Naomi again—she was carrying her large book bag, holding a coffee cup the size of a small bucket, yawning.

"Good morning," she greeted. "We always seem to meet early in the morning."

"Did you pull an all-nighter at the library again?" I asked.

She nodded. "What about you? Studying, or not studying?"

Apparently in her cognitive framework of other people's lives, there were only these two categories.

"About to go study." I looked at her coffee cup inquiringly. "How many cups is this?"

"Second cup."

"Naomi."

"Second large cup." She held the cup with both hands, showing no remorse. "I'll sleep after I finish the last page."

We walked the last stretch together and returned to our respective bedrooms.

I spent some time researching how to salvage a blood-stained uniform before class.

But this project didn't go very smoothly. I soaked it in warm water with no effect, then found out that cold water works better...

With ten minutes left, I sighed, hung the uniform—blood stains lighter but still visible—on the bathroom drying rack, and prepared to go wrestle with Commercial Law first.

This course wasn't particularly difficult, but from the first step into the lecture hall, this day felt strange.

Caleb, a guy who had at least three identical classes with me, sat two rows in front of me.

For the first two weeks of the semester, he'd treated me like air, and last week he was still chatting with Aria.

But today, he turned around and cleared his throat. "Hey, Amelia."

I looked at him.

"Nothing," he said, both hands in his pockets. "Good morning."

He finished speaking and looked down at his shoe tips, clearly not expecting me to respond.

I didn't understand, but responded politely.

"Good morning."

He looked relieved.

The girl who had been sitting two seats away from me since the semester started moved one seat closer to me today and casually asked if I'd finished last night's reading assignment. Just that one sentence, out of nowhere, yet it made me pause for nearly three seconds internally.

At lunch, a guy from Econ class—Logan, I think, or maybe Landon—appeared in the cafeteria carrying a tray, wearing an obviously rehearsed smile.

"So, I was thinking," he said, "maybe we could grab coffee sometime. Or drinks, whatever you prefer—"

"Ah, no thanks," I said.

Remembering how the cheerleading squad people had been talking these days, I hesitated and added, "I'm kind of busy, have an assignment... Scott."

"Ah," he nodded. "I understand. Maybe another time?"

"If there's an opportunity," I said, nodding at him and walking away with my tray.

I sat down, trying to determine what I felt about this, because somewhere in my chest a faint, confused voice was emerging.

Two weeks ago, this campus had decided I was a fraud, arrogant, buying my grades with money, not worth knowing. Now people were greeting me, moving seats closer to me, and someone had invited me for coffee, yet I couldn't find the self that should feel satisfied.

What had happened?

Before I could figure it out, Evelyn dropped into the chair across from me with the momentum of someone who'd been holding something in all morning and was ready to explode.

"Okay," she said, laying her phone flat on the table like presenting evidence in court, "you need to see this!"