Her! 🌶️
Chapter 1: Her! 🌶️
Lyssa landed hard on her ass on the polished linoleum floor, the impact sending a jolt through her tailbone. A soft, whispered ‘Ouch’ escaped her lips, barely louder than a breath, more reflex than sound. She quickly pressed her lips together, hoping no one had heard. It was still early morning—too early for anyone to be up in the co-ed dormitory.
She pushed herself up, hands brushing against the cool floor as she steadied herself. A shiver ran through her, both from the chill of the hallway against her bare skin and the disgusting remnants of him still clinging to her. She swiped the back of her hand across her cheek, trying to wipe away the sticky filth of... him. She just wanted to gag.
The bitter bile mixed with the disgusting leftovers of him in her stomach threatened to rise violently, but she squashed it down, forcing herself to focus. To breathe through it like she had done since she was fourteen—or when failing to do so had meant getting beaten badly.
Her long, platinum blonde hair spilled over her shoulders, some of the waves sticking to her neck where a bead of sweat lingered. She let out a slow, controlled breath, forcing the tension out of her body. At least the part that was visible on the outside.
Straightening up, she crossed her arms over her chest, trying to cover as much of her bare torso as she could.
Her generous C-cup breasts remained partially visible, despite her efforts. Soft curves peeking out between the gaps in her arms. The lace edges of her high-cut black panties hugged her hips, accentuating her hourglass figure. The sheer fabric of the Brazilian cut left little to the imagination, the delicate floral pattern against her pale skin hinting at both beauty and sensuality.
Lyssa lifted her chin, forcing her lips into a wry, almost defiant smirk. Cocky confidence wasn’t just an attitude; it was armor. The only armor left now when she had once again been thrown out without being allowed to gather her clothes first.
At least he lived alone in his dorm room, so there were no witnesses to her debasement. Being grateful for the little things was something she had learned from an early age while growing up in squalor with a depressed, beaten-down but once beautiful former model of a mother. An estranged woman who had taken a long string of even worse losers as lovers through her younger years, until she ‘caught the big fish loaded with money.’
His dad, who married her to have a beautiful punching bag who allowed him to do anything to her because he had money. The only good thing that came out of that was that at least Lyssa didn’t have to live at home anymore, as he had enough money to send her to college—the same as his son’s—because his son explicitly had demanded it. Yeah, Lyssa knew very well why her cruel and disgusting step-brother had demanded it from his dad.
She suppressed another gag reflex and squared her shoulders, head thrown back defiantly, smirk on, armor in place—check! Then she took a long, graceful step forward, her hips swaying with the deliberate poise of someone who owned every inch of space around her. One step became two, then three—her bare feet barely making a sound against the cool floor. The morning light streamed through the long windows lining the right side of the corridor, catching in the silver of the lush waves of her swinging platinum hair and painting her tanned skin in soft gold. The bright green of the trees outside swayed gently, casting playful shadows that danced on the floor.
She refused to rush, refused to show any hint of embarrassment or weakness. If anyone saw her like this, they would see confidence, not a walk of shame. Her pride was the only thing they hadn’t taken from her yet.
She watched in surprise as the door into her own room at the end of the corridor opened inward and a handsome young guy stepped out. When he looked up and saw her, he froze in the door opening—one hand still resting on the handle—and his jaw dropped. He was lean, muscular, with dark hair—tousled as if he’d just rolled out of bed. She loved every second of his shocked expression when seeing her like this. His mouth hung open, eyes wide as he took in the sight of her.
She didn’t flinch, didn’t pull back. Instead, she tilted her head and gave him a slow, deliberate smile. A flicker of amusement danced in her mismatched eyes—one blue, one green. His gaze traveled down the length of her lithe body, down the long legs to her bare feet, lingering on the lace of her panties and the smooth line of her bare legs. Then his gaze jumped back up to her arms and her hands steadfastly shielding her breasts—not in a cramped way—just confidently shielding while she walked with dignity and an extra provocative sway to her hips. Finally his gaze zoomed in on her face and she sent him a big confident smile.
Lyssa tilted her head gracefully, letting her long hair slide forward over her shoulder to hide her naked breasts just a bit more, the strands catching in the morning light. The way he looked at her—like she was something untouchable, wild, and unrestrained—sparked a flicker of satisfaction in her chest. Her swagger became more pronounced.
She sauntered past him in an easy, flowing, sweet-smelling morning breeze, freshly douched and perfumed, not breaking her stride as she walked through the door as he backed away from the opening, into the room, mouth hanging open in shock. ‘Hii,’ she said, voice bright and light, as if she hadn’t just walked half-naked through the dormitory. Before he could gather his wits enough to respond, she closed the door behind her with a solid kick of her foot, her gaze never leaving his. Something she had clearly done many times before.
She turned her back to him, knowing that she gave him a good view of her equally beautiful backside. Lyssa let out a slow breath, squared her shoulders a bit, then sauntered over to her dresser at the far wall, giving herself a bit of time to get composed, get clothed, and slow down her racing heart, before facing him again. She was used to hiding behind confidence, but that moment just now—the way he’d looked at her, not with pity but with awe—left her strangely off balance. Shaking her head at her own thoughts, she elegantly dipped down in one fluid motion, keeping her balance as her hips hovered just above the ground, her legs supporting her in a low, elegant squat. She pulled open the bottom drawer to find a bra. She needed to get dressed, needed to feel less exposed, but was also fully aware that he was standing dumbfounded, ogling her Brazilian thong and the round curves of her backside from behind.
She didn’t know who the cute guy was—but he was probably Kate’s brother. Kate had mentioned him before, always bragging about how handsome and strong and friendly he was. The guy definitely fit that description. A strange warmth flickered in her chest while she was still super aware of him standing behind her. But Lyssa pushed the fluttering feeling aside, focusing instead on finding something to cover herself with. She fished out a black lace bra from the bottom of her drawer.
She just needed to focus on one thing at a time to keep up her cockiness—her armor—tight in place. "Next up: Cocky Bra Challenge!" she decided with an evil grin he couldn't see.
