Popular Girl Blackmail Nerdy guy Nothing bad could happen right.?

[SAMPLE] Reed frowned, his eyes filled with confusion when he saw that Lena seemed to be fine. "I heard a scream," he announced stiffly, standing awkwardly over Lena's bed. Beneath the sheets, Lena was torn between renewed arousal and slight mortification. Embarrassment won. "Everything's fine," she muttered, trying to discreetly disengage the battery-operated toy from between her thighs. It was a thick phallus, way too thick to silently exit her wet pússy, but finally, finally, it popped out. "But you screamed." "Because I came, Reed." His bewilderment only grew. "Came where?" And that was when Lena knew that even after what had happened between them last night, Reed was still like a newborn, an innocent. He might have been the most intelligent guy she knew but in many ways, he was still the boy he'd been before the accident that had marred his life. So she heaved out a sigh, clamping her thighs together when she felt his gaze scorch her damp skin. "I had an orgasm, Reed." She calmly spelled it out, wondering if she should mention that it was his cock she'd been imagining inside her. Now that she knew what he was packing, it was impossible to get the image out of her head - not that she was trying. Reed swallowed, a blush creeping up his neck. Lena was instantly turned on by that blush, by his obvious discomfort and arousal. So she did the most natural thing that came to her. She pulled her sheets away.

I'm not as fragile as you think. Don't tug my hair. Grab it. Don't graze your teeth along my skin. Devour me. Bite down until I cry out. Then do it again. Don't caress my throat. I want to feel your fingers wrap tightly around it. Feel my pulse hammer into your palm. Feel the breath short in my chest and that little bit of panic set in. Don't nudge my knees apart. Move them like they're yours to spread. With intention. With possession. Don't hold my hands. I want to feel your strong grip around my wrists. Use all your weight. Make me lie still. I want it to still hurt tomorrow. I want to see the bruises. The welts. The handprints. Don't ask me if I'm ok. Tell me I am. I need to let go and not think. I need you to make me yours. Let my body answer for me with each shudder and moan. With the pool of wetness between my thighs. These are the things I can't control. I don't want to control. That's the point. Don't doubt. Don't worry. Don't overthink.

"You can start by calling me daddy." Confused by his sudden outburst, I ran my fingers through my hair and tried to comprehend what he told me. "The fuck did you just say?"