LOGINSienna's POVI straddle him and sink onto his cock and the look on his face when I take control is the most satisfying thing I've earned all semester.Better than any grade. Better than the orgasm on his desk.The man who just edged me until I cried is gripping the armrests of his chair while I roll my hips on his cock. He's still hard—still thick and pulsing inside me—and my oversensitive walls clench at the stretch."You thought we were done?" I murmur, leaning forward so my lips brush his ear. "I've waited fourteen weeks for this. We're not done until I say we're done.""Hands on the armrests," I say, straightening up. "Don't move them."His jaw clenches. His fingers white-knuckle the leather. He's still wet with both of us, and when I look down, I can see his cum glistening at the base of his shaft, mixed with my own arousal."Look at you," I say, echoing his earlier words. "The great Professor Thorne. Sitting there with his cock buried in his student. Do you like this? Being tol
Sienna's POVHe grabs my hips and spins me around and lifts me onto his desk. Papers crumple under my ass and his nameplate clatters to the floor.He pushes my knees to my chest and parts my legs wide so I'm sitting on his desk with my thighs spread and my pussy completely exposed.He stands between my legs staring at my cunt like he's reading the most interesting text he's encountered all year."Look at you," he murmurs, running a thumb through my wetness and spreading me open. "Already dripping and I haven't even touched you yet. You've been sitting in my lecture hall with this soaking cunt under your skirt for months, haven't you?"I nod."No panties to office hours," he says, gripping my hips and pulling me to the edge of the desk. His thumb circles my clit once, slow, watching my face. "You planned this.""Since September," I say."Since September," he repeats, and something dark flickers behind his glasses. "Fourteen weeks of watching you cross those legs in the front row, knowi
Sienna's POVProfessor Malachi Thorne is the reason I'm failing Literary Theory.Not because the subject is hard. Because the man stands at the front of the lecture hall in rolled sleeves, those forearms on full display, a voice so low it makes my pussy throb.I stopped absorbing information the day he walked in and wrote his name on the board. With his dark, tousled hair, sharp jaw, and blue eyes behind his glasses that seem to catch mine.I've been touching myself through his lectures for two months. Not at home to the memory of him — in class. Right there in the front row, hand pressed flat between my thighs, rubbing circles through my underwear while he lectures.Every time he makes eye contact my fingers press harder. Every time that voice drops on a particular word, my thighs clamp around my own hand.I am failing because I spend his class periods half out of my mind and soaking wet and I cannot make myself stop.So I've made a decision to do something about it.I'm standing out
Nadia’s POVHe leads me by the leash from the dungeon's cold stone into a warm, dimly-lit bedroom.My legs are shaky and my body feels like a masterpiece of beautiful damage. I can still feel his cum leaking from my pussy, a slow, intimate mark of ownership.When we reach the foot of the massive dark-wood bed, I don't wait for an order. I lower myself and crawl on all fours, the presentation of a well-trained animal."On your back. Legs spread wide and hold them behind your knees."I obey without hesitation, rolling onto my back, pulling my legs up and apart, folding myself in half to expose the most used parts of me without a shred of modesty.He crawls onto the bed and kneels between my thighs, looking down at my wrecked pussy with a reverence that borders on the obscene."Such a pretty, sloppy mess." He drags two fingers through the leaking cum that gloops from my hole. "Two loads and you're still hungry. Your cunt is still winking at me, begging for more. What a perfect, insatiabl
Nadia’s POVThe leather straps lock my wrists above my head and my ankles to the base of the cross and I'm spread open facing him with my back against the wood and his cum still leaking down my thighs from the bench.He lights the candle, and olds it above my collarbone. The flame flickers and the first drop of wax hits my skin. The burn makes me gasp and jerk against the restraints.The heat is sharp for one second, then settles into a warmth that spreads outward and pulses between my legs.“Oh, you felt that, didn’t you?” he murmurs, tilting the candle again. He trails a slow, deliberate path of fire down my stomach."Don't move," he says, tilting the candle. Another drop between my tits. The wax hits and hardens and the burn-to-warmth cycle sends a clench through my pussy."Killian, it's hot, please—""It's supposed to be hot." He drips a line of wax from my sternum down to my navel and my stomach muscles twitch and contract under every drop. "Your cunt just clenched. I can see it
Nadia's POVHe leads me by the leash across the dungeon floor. My legs are still shaky from the orgasm on his tongue, and his cum is still dripping down my chin onto my breasts.I feel filthy, exposed, and more alive than I’ve ever felt.“On the bench, face down,” Killian orders.I obey without hesitation, climbing onto the padded leather surface. He straps my wrists into the leather cuffs on either side, then spreads my legs and locks my ankles to the bench legs.I’m completely immobilized — ass raised high, tits pressed against the cool leather, pussy exposed and dripping. I can’t move anything except my fingers and toes.I’ve never felt more vulnerable and helpless in my life.I hear him walk behind me, the soft click of the cabinet opening, and then the soft swish of leather tails cutting through the air as he tests the weight of whatever he's selected.The anticipation is its own kind of torture. Every second of silence makes my cunt clench around nothing."You've been very patie
Naomi’s POVMarcus fucks the way he does everything — hard, efficient, zero wasted movement. Every thrust jolts me forward on the table and drives a sound out of me that I have to muffle in my own forearm.He’s thicker than Vincent, and I can feel the stretch of him forcing my swollen walls apart,
Naomi’s POVIt's my dad’s annual poker night with his four friends — Vincent, Marcus, Ray, and Dom — and I’m sitting on the loveseat in a sundress pretending I’m not soaked through my panties.I’ve been fantasizing about these men since the day I saw them. Not the cute kind of fantasy.The kind whe
Hera's POVI roll onto my stomach, and he straddles my lower back, his weight pinning me to the sleeping bag. I feel his hands gather both my wrists behind me — firm but not rough, one hand holding them together while the other wraps the leather belt around them.The first loop is snug. He pulls it
Hera's POVHe starts moving, and I immediately understand that everything before this was him being gentle.He pins my wrists behind my back with one hand and drives into me with a force that shoves me forward on the sleeping bag.The stretch of him is overwhelming, thick enough that every drag aga







