The mansion was alive in the morning, buzzing with footsteps and voices, sunlight spilling through tall windows to brighten polished floors. For everyone else, it was just another day at Xavier's school. For me, it felt like the world was tilted off its axis.
I had barely slept. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Laura's ass grinding against me, felt the heat of her thighs locking me in place, heard her calm voice whispering like a knife against my sanity. She'd walked away the night before, leaving me trembling, cock aching, humiliated, desperate. It wasn't just lust—it was something sharper, something that made my chest tighten and my body burn at the same time. She owned me, and she hadn't even tried.
I dragged myself out of bed and into the halls, trying to shake the frustration off. But the mansion had a way of exposing you. Polished wood, open corridors, the chatter of kids who had found their place—it all made me feel raw, out of place, and too aware of myself.
The kitchen smelled like coffee and toast when I stepped in. A cluster of students sat around the big table, chattering about classes and training. Kitty glanced up, gave me a half-smile. "New guy's up early. Trying to make a good impression?"
I smirked, leaning against the counter. "Always."
Scott gave me one of those looks—measured, serious, as if weighing whether I was a distraction or a problem. Logan was there too, silent with a mug of coffee, eyes tracking me noses flared like he was peeling me apart molecule by molecule. That stare made my skin prickle, but I refused to look away first.
Then she walked in.
Laura. Calm. Stoic. Every step of hers was deliberate, smooth, and yet my eyes went straight to the way her shorts showed off her thighs, practically painted on, the bounce of her ass when she moved. She didn't say a word at first, just reached past me for a bottle of water. Her hip brushed mine—too precise to be an accident. Heat spiked through my chest and down lower, my pulse hammering.
She opened the bottle, took a slow sip, then glanced at me with that unreadable expression. "You look tired." Her voice was flat, almost bored, but I knew better.
"I slept fine," I lied.
Her gaze lingered for a second longer, then she walked past, hips swaying, ass flexing under denim. Nobody else noticed. But to me it was torture, pure and simple.
---
The morning didn't get any easier.
After breakfast, Scott rounded us up. "Danger Room session in ten. Gear up."
The words sent a buzz through the room. Students scrambled, chatter rising as everyone rushed toward the training wing. I followed, rolling my shoulders, trying to remind myself what I was here for—control. Mastery. Proving I wasn't just some nobody.
The Danger Room was still as massive and intimidating as last time I was here with Laura the walls humming with hidden tech, the space shifting and warping with each simulation. Scott set up the program, his voice sharp and commanding as he explained the drills. My stomach tightened when I realized who I'd been paired with.
Laura.
She stood across from me, arms folded, calm as ever. Her green eyes fixed on me, cold and unreadable, but I swore I saw the faintest flicker of amusement in them.
"Ready?" she asked.
My throat was dry. "Always."
The simulation roared to life—metallic walls shifting, holograms springing into being. Enemies appeared, simulated Sentinels and drones firing blasts of energy. My powers kicked in instinctively. I darted forward, redirecting their momentum with a flick of my hand. Energy beams curved off-course, drones crashed into walls. The rush of it filled me, adrenaline sparking like fire through my veins.
But Laura moved like water, slicing through the simulation with claws flashing, body twisting in precise, lethal arcs. Her thighs flexed, her ass bouncing with every lunge and kick. My eyes kept straying, my focus slipping.
She noticed. Of course she noticed.
"You're distracted," she said flatly, pinning me with her gaze after tearing through three drones in a blur.
"I'm fine," I muttered, gritting my teeth.
"You're staring," she corrected, voice calm as ever. She stepped closer, her body brushing mine as we moved side by side, slicing through the simulation. My pulse jumped every time her thigh pressed against me, every time her hip brushed mine.
The scenario ended with a final explosion, holograms vanishing into smoke. I was sweating, chest heaving, my cock straining against my pants in front of half the team. Laura didn't even look winded.
"Pathetic," she murmured just for me, brushing past. But I heard the faintest edge of something else in her voice. Teasing.
---
I couldn't stand it.
That evening, I found myself in the hallways again, restless, wired. The mansion was quieter at night, the laughter and chatter of the day fading into silence. My head was still spinning from the training session, from the way Laura had pressed close, calm and merciless, knowing exactly what she was doing to me.
I turned a corner—and nearly collided with her.
She stood there in the dim light, arms crossed, her expression unreadable. Her scent—clean, sharp, faintly metallic—hit me like a drug.
"Following me?" she asked, voice low.
"No," I lied, too quickly.
She tilted her head, studying me like I was some puzzle she hadn't solved yet. Then, without warning, she stepped closer. One hand pressed flat against my chest, pinning me back to the wall. My breath caught. Her body pressed against mine, and then she shifted, deliberately grinding her ass into my crotch.
Heat exploded through me. My cock hardened instantly, throbbing as she pushed back, slow and steady, her thick thighs brushing mine.
"You tremble every time," she murmured, voice calm but her body merciless. "Is it fear? Or something else?"
I groaned, hips jerking forward despite myself. My hands hovered uselessly at my sides, itching to grab her, to feel the firmness of her ass, the power in her thighs.
She pressed harder, her ass grinding into me, slow and deliberate. My head fell back against the wall, eyes closing as I fought for control. Every nerve in my body screamed with need.
Then, just as the pressure built to the breaking point, she stepped away. Smooth. Casual. Like nothing had happened.
I was left gasping, cock aching, body trembling.
She glanced back over her shoulder, stoic as ever. "If you break this easily, you'll never survive here."
Then she walked away, hips swaying, ass bouncing with every step.
I stood there, humiliated, desperate, fire coiling in my gut. She was in complete control, and I hated it. But God help me—I needed it.
I pressed my forehead against the wall, trying to breathe, trying to cool the hunger raging in me. Laura was testing me. And if I didn't figure out how to handle it, she was going to destroy me.