The door clicked shut and the sound too loud in the breathless silence of the office Heather's skin flushed hot, her pulse beating in her throat. She was still bent over Ethan’s desk, her blouse open and bra shoved down, her professor’s handprint red across her hip. And Lola, her best friend, the one waiting outside stood inside now, back against the door as though she’d locked herself in, Her eyes didn’t look shocked, they looked hungry. “Lola…” Heather's voice broke but her friend lifted a hand silencing her. “I can’t pretend,” Lola whispered, gaze sliding to Ethan then back. “I’ve wanted this for months, I’ve wanted him.” Ethan leaned back in his chair, dark eyes glittering as if this had been his plan all along. “Is that so?” His voice was smooth and dangerous, He gestured with two fingers. “Then come here, don’t waste my time.” Heather shook her head torn between jealousy and heat. “Lola, you don’t..” But Lola was already moving pulled like a moth to flame. Her knees hit th
Heather’s heart hammered against her ribs as she pushed open the door to his office, the scent of old paper and polished wood clung to the air heavy and intimidating almost suffocating. She clutched the folder of assignments he’d ordered her to deliver though she wasn’t the course rep and she tried not to think about why he had really asked for her.He was already there behind the desk, his tie loosened, his sleeves rolled up to reveal forearms dusted with dark hair veins thick and strong, the kind of arms that made her thighs press together unconsciously.“On time, Heather,” Professor Hayes said smoothly, voice low enough to send a tremor down her spine. “I like that.”She swallowed and set the folder down. “These are the assignments, sir.”He didn’t even glance at them, his gaze was fixed on her body. On the way her blouse stretched across her chest, Heather shifted, wishing she had worn something less revealing but also secretly glad she hadn’t.“Do you know,” he said, pushing back
The lecture hall was silent except for the faint scratch of Heather's pen, Her head was bent low glasses sliding down the bridge of her nose as she copied lines from her notes The dim light from the overheads cast her in a golden pool the rest of the rows were lost in shadows. The creak of the door startled her she looked up, her heart thudding only to see him. Professor Ethan Metch. He stood in the doorway tall and impossibly cold in his dark suit, a stack of papers in his hand. His eyes found her immediately those storm-gray eyes that always pinned her in class made her skin flush and her stomach twist with need. “Heather,” he said softly shutting the door behind him, “What are you still doing here this late?” Her lips parted. “I just wanted to get ahead of Tomorrow’s lecture ” “You could have gone home like normal students do.” His steps echoed as he walked up her. She tried to look at her notebook but her pen shook. “Maybe I’m not normal.” His laugh was low and rough as h
The morning sunlight streamed softly into the bedroom, spreading across the sheets still messy from last night. Alissa moved slightly, her body sore, her thighs aching, the heavy feeling of last night’s sin clinging to her. For a moment, she thought it might have been a dream until she turned her head and saw the empty space beside her.No Tristan.Her heart skipped she sat up, holding the sheet to her chest, listening for footsteps or the sound of the shower, but all she saw was a small tray on the bedside table. Toast, eggs, and coffee still steaming with a folded note on top.Her hand shook as she reached for it.Didn’t mean it when I said I wouldn’t leave, I just wanted to see you panic a little. You looked beautiful. You always do. Eat and don't think much of me, have a nice life ahead. – THer chest tightened the words felt like fire, she crushed the note in her fist tears blurring her eyes with a desperate cry, she tore it into pieces scattering them on the floor.Her stomac
When her body convulsed around him, her orgasm ripped through her without permission, her thighs trembling violently against his hips. He groaned at the squeeze, grinding deep inside her, refusing to let her cum without him buried to the hilt.“Fuck feel that? That’s your cousin’s cock milking every drop out of you,” he snarled.She sobbed clinging to him trembling as he finally slowed but he didn’t pull out.Instead, Tristan shifted his grip sliding an arm beneath her thighs hoisting her up against him His cock still stayed buried inside her, thick and unrelenting as if he’d claimed her body completely.Alissa gasped when he started walking carrying her out of the bathroom. Her wet skin clung to his, their bodies still joined as he strode down the hall.“Where are we…”“The living room,” he cut her off, his voice sharp with possession. “I’m not finished showing you who owns this pussy tonight”She bit her lip hard, heat rushing to her cheeks. Her husband’s living room, their couch, t
Tristan didn’t give her time to breathe, His hand clamped around her wrist, dragging her off the bed like she weighed nothing like she was already his.“Tristan please…” Alissa’s voice cracked weak and torn between resistance and a tremor of want she hated herself for.He didn’t look back. “You think I’m done with you?” His growl vibrated through her bones.The bathroom light flicked on, blinding her for some seconds. He shoved her against the sink forcing her eyes up to the mirror. The woman staring back was a stranger to Alissa, hair tangled, lips swollen from kisses, cheeks flushed, chest heaving. She looked ruined, used, and desperate.“Look at yourself,” Tristan rasped his chest pressed into her back, his breath hot against her ear. “Tell me you don’t want this.”“I..I can’t,” she whispered, tears blurring her reflection.He spun her, then hooked one of her legs up on the edge of the bathtub spreading her open with no shame, no mercy. The porcelain was cold against her bare foot,