Page 59 of Ghost Ribbon

I grinned.

He must have felt me looking. His legs snapped together so fast I heard the faint scrape of his chair. One hand dropped between his thighs like he could hide it.

“D-don’t look,” he whispered, voice cracking. “Alexei…”

I slid my hand under the table and rested it high on his thigh. He was trembling. Hard.

“My shy little star is filthier than he pretends to be.”

Marco made a mortified sound in the back of his throat and squeezed his legs tighter. His hand was still between them, trying to cover himself. It wasn’t working.

I leaned in until my mouth brushed the shell of his ear.

“Stand up.”

He shook his head once, frantic. “I…I can’t. Everyone will see—”

“I said stand up, Marco.”

After a shaky second he pushed his chair back and stood, keeping his backpack clutched in front of his crotch.

I rose with him, grabbed his wrist, and started walking.

He stumbled after me, trying to keep the bag in front of him as I pulled him through the cafeteria.

Two doors down the hallway was an old storage room the janitors barely used anymore. I shoved the door open, dragged Marco inside, and kicked it shut behind us.

The second we were alone I spun him around and backed him against the nearest wall. I caught both his wrists in one hand and pinned them above his head. My other hand went straight to the front of his pants, cupping the hard length through the fabric.

Marco gasped, hips jerking.

I squeezed him once, feeling him throb against my palm. “You’re leaking through your pants, Malyshka.”

He whined and turned his face away, eyes squeezed shut.

“Alexei… please, someone could hear—”

“Then you’ll have to be quiet.” I pressed my palm harder against him. “Or maybe I should make you loud. Let the whole school know who you belong to.”

His hips twitched despite himself. I could feel how badly he was trying not to push into my hand.

Marco’s breathing was already wrecked. Shaky whimpers kept slipping out of him no matter how hard he tried to bite them back.

“Hm,” I murmured. “What should I do with you, little star?”

I pressed my palm harder against him.

“Should I finger you open right here against this wall?” I asked, like I was actually considering it. “Work you open on two fingers until you’re crying and begging me to let you come?”

Marco made a broken little sound. His thighs trembled.

“Or,” I continued, leaning in until my lips brushed the shell of his ear, “should I put you on your knees and use this pretty mouth instead? Stretch those soft lips around my cock until you’re drooling down your chin?”

I felt him shudder violently.

“Or…” My voice dropped even lower. “Should I just fuck you? Bend you over one of these shelves and split you open on my cock right now?”

I paused, letting the words sink in.