I couldn't believe this was happening.
Darius had my wrists pinned above my head against the cold tiled wall of the third-floor girls' restroom at Lincoln Prep.
The last bell had rung twenty minutes ago.
The hallway outside was dead quiet, but every tiny sound.
The slow drip of a faucet, the faint wail of a distant siren from the New York streets made my stomach twist tighter.
Fear.
Excitement.
Something dangerously close to both.
He leaned in, his lips brushing just beneath my ear. His voice slid low and smooth, like warm honey poured over something hard and unyielding.
"Come a little closer… I want to feel you near me."
I swallowed, my breath catching. Then, slower, softer—almost deliberate—
"I want to kiss you, Ivy. Very… very slowly."
His free hand moved to my throat, fingers light, thumb grazing the sensitive skin beneath my jaw. The touch made something inside me shiver awake. I squeezed my eyes shut, my pulse thundering so loudly I could hear it in my ears.
This isn't me. This isn't supposed to be me.
I was nineteen. Quiet. Invisible. The unwanted daughter in a house that never felt like mine.
And yet… right now, pressed against him like this—
I felt seen.
"You good, baby?" he murmured, easing back just enough to look at me, even though his body still kept me pinned. "Tell me you want this."
My breath came out uneven.
"I… I've never done this before." My voice trembled despite me trying to steady it. "I'm a virgin."
For a split second, something shifted in his eyes. Not hesitation. Something darker. Sharper. Like he had just tasted blood he wanted to claim.
My chest tightened—but not enough to pull away.
Because underneath it, there was something else. A need.
"But… I want this," I whispered, heat flooding my face.
Darius tilted his head, a slow, knowing smirk forming.
"That's my girl," he murmured. "You make it really hard for me to behave."
My stomach flipped.
He kissed me. Softly at first, almost careful like he was testing me, learning me. His lips moved slowly against mine, drawing me in, giving me time to feel everything. I melted before I could stop myself, my body reacting faster than my thoughts.
So this is what it feels like…
His thumb kept tracing lazy circles against my throat, grounding and dizzying at the same time. The kiss deepened, grew warmer, heavier, and a soft sound slipped out of me before I could stop it. I barely recognized it as mine.
He released my wrists, pulling me closer instead, like I belonged there.
"I want to take my time with you," he breathed against my ear.
My body responded before my mind could catch up.
When his hands moved under my skirt, when he pulled my panties down just enough, my heart started racing again—but I didn't stop him. I didn't want to.
When he pushed into me, slow but firm, the sensation hit all at once.
Sharp.
Too much.
I gasped, fingers digging into his arms as the stretch burned in a way I hadn't expected.
This hurts, why does it hurt this much?
"Easy, baby," he murmured, voice softer now, almost coaxing. "You feel so damn good… so tight. You have no idea what you do to me."
I bit down on my lip, trying to steady myself, trying to breathe through it. Don't pull away. Don't ruin this.
Slowly—gradually—the sharp edge dulled. The pain didn't disappear, but it shifted, blending into something warmer, deeper. Something that made my legs weaken in a completely different way. My body… it's changing.
A soft moan slipped out. Then another. Each one louder than the last. The sound echoed off the tiles, and that should have scared me, but instead, it made everything feel more intense. More dangerous. More real.
His hand came up to cover my mouth lightly, his eyes locked onto mine.
"That's it," he whispered, voice rougher now. "Let me show you how much I want you."
My thoughts blurred. Everything narrowed down to sensation to him, to the pressure, to the way my body was reacting without asking permission.
And when it hit. It was sudden.
Overwhelming. My whole body tensed, then broke apart in a rush that made me cry out against his hand, my fingers tightening helplessly against him.
For a moment, I wasn't in control of anything.
And that terrified me.
But it also, My God. It felt good.
Darius groaned low, finishing right after, his grip tightening like he didn't want to let go.
For a few seconds, neither of us moved.
Then reality crept back in. Too fast. Too cold.
He helped me fix my uniform, smoothing things over like nothing had happened. Like this was normal. Casual.
"You were perfect," he said, pressing a quick kiss to my forehead, that same smirk already back in place. "Can't stop thinking about you."
Perfect.
The word settled deep in my chest.
He slipped out first, checking the hallway before disappearing.
And just like that, I was alone.
I stood there for a moment, legs unsteady, a lingering warmth between my thighs. I turned toward the mirror slowly.
Flushed cheeks. Messy braids. Lips swollen. Eyes brighter than I'd ever seen them.
He chose me. Not the loud girls. Not the perfect ones. Me.
For the first time in years, I didn't feel like my father's unwanted mistake. I touched my lips gently. And smiled.
The subway ride home felt… strange.
Like I wasn't fully inside my body. The train rattled through the tunnels, loud and shaky, people packed too close, voices blending together—but none of it really touched me. My mind kept drifting back.
To him.
To the way he looked at me.
To how easily everything had happened.
My fingers curled slightly against my thigh.
I should feel embarrassed. I should feel stupid. But instead… there was this quiet warmth sitting deep in my chest, spreading slowly.
If Father knew, he would lose his mind.
The thought came, sharp and clear.
But even then… I didn't feel scared enough to stop smiling.
For once—I felt wanted.
The moment I stepped inside the house, it all disappeared. Just like that.
Father was already there, standing in the foyer like he'd been waiting. His eyes locked onto me immediately, cold and hard.
I didn't even get the chance to speak.
The slap came fast. Too fast. My head snapped to the side as pain burst across my cheek, and I stumbled back, hitting the marble floor. My bag slipped from my hand, scattering slightly beside me.
For a second, I just stayed there. Everything ringing.
"Late." His voice wasn't loud. That made it worse.
"You think you can come in whenever you want?"
I pushed myself up a little, my cheek burning, my vision still slightly blurred.
"I'm sorry," I said quietly.
He let out a short, dry laugh.
"I keep you here for appearances," he said, adjusting his sleeve like nothing had happened. "Do you understand that? Not because I want you here."
My chest tightened, but it didn't hit as hard as it usually did.
"People talk," he continued. "And I don't tolerate that kind of attention."
His gaze sharpened.
"But don't ever confuse that with care. You are not wanted in this house."
There it was. The same words. The same tone. The same weight. Only this time… they didn't sink in the same way.
Time blurred after that.
Dishes. Floors. The same endless routine. Cold water running over my hands, soap drying out my skin. The mop dragging across the marble, over and over again. My cheek still aching every time I moved too fast.
Everything felt the same.
But also… not.
The insults came.
The laughter.
Marcus saying something under his breath.
Layla making comments just loud enough for me to hear.
And yet, it all felt distant. Like it wasn't reaching me fully.
I paused for a second, leaning against the counter, catching my breath.
Why don't I feel worse?
The question came quietly.
And the answer came just as fast.
Because of him.
Darius.
My fingers tightened slightly.
He wanted me.
Out of everyone, he chose me.
Something small but steady settled in my chest. Not happiness exactly. Something darker. Stronger. Maybe… I'm not nothing.
By the time I got to my room, I was exhausted. Too tired to even change. I just collapsed onto the bed, still in my uniform, my body heavy.
But my mind had drifted back to him again. The way he looked at me. The way he held me. Like I was something he needed.
The thought should have made me uncomfortable.
Instead… I held onto it as I fell asleep.
The next morning felt different.
I couldn't explain it, but something had shifted.
I fixed my uniform carefully. Redid my braids. Covered the faint bruise on my cheek as best as I could.
Then I walked into school.
And the first thing I did was look for him.
My heart lifted for a second.
Then I heard it.
"…you heard about the bathroom thing yesterday?"
"…someone recorded it…"
"…nah, it's actually crazy…"
My steps slowed.
A strange feeling crept into my stomach. Not yet fear. But close.
A group had gathered near the lockers, laughing too loudly, too openly.
Sasha stood in the middle, holding her phone up.
"Play it again," she said.
The sound started. Muffled. But clear enough. My voice. Soft. Breathless. Unmistakable.
Everything inside me dropped.
No…
My chest tightened so fast it hurt.
"No…" I whispered under my breath.
"That's her," someone said. "Quiet girl? Yeah right."
"Did you hear her? Damn."
Laughter spread quickly. Too quickly. I couldn't breathe properly.
My eyes moved frantically through the hallway. Looking for him.
Where is he?
Tyler leaned against the wall, watching, arms crossed, a smirk already on his face. He knew. They all knew.
But Darius wasn't there.
And somehow, that hurt more than the laughter.
My phone buzzed in my pocket. The sound made me flinch. Slowly, I pulled it out, my fingers unsteady.
Another notification.
Unknown number.
A video.
My stomach twisted.