Page 153 of Teacher's Pet

His grip on my wrists tightens. His pace grows brutal.

“You want my cum, Princess?” he growls, his voice rough, dark, deliciously dangerous. His hips snap forward, punishing, relentless. “You want me to fill you up? Make you fucking watch as my cum spills free from your sore, used pussy?”

A shudder racks through me, my nails digging into my palms.

“Yes,” I whimper, my head dropping forward, my body tightening around him, desperate, so close.

“Then tell me,” I snap.

Lifting my head, my eyes meet his in the mirror, my face flushed, my lips parted in pleasure.

“How bad do you want me, Noah?” I pant, my voice thick with need. “How bad do you want to make me yours?”

His breath stutters, his rhythm faltering for the first time. He’s seconds from breaking, his body teetering on the edge just as much as mine.

But then he leans in, his voice rough, raw, dangerous.

“I don’t just fucking want you, Ana.” His cock twitches inside me, his grip punishing, unyielding.

“I fucking need you.”

He yanks my head up, forcing me to look at myself in the mirror, my reflection streaked with pleasure, with tears, with him.

“You wanna know why?” he snaps, his thrusts turning brutal, desperate, his control slipping.

“Why, Noah?” I whisper, teetering on the edge, my release so close it hurts.

His eyes bore into mine, his voice breaking.

“Because I-” His hips slam into mine.

“Am fucking-” His breath stutters, his whole body tensing.

“In love with you.”

That’s it.

There’s no stopping it.

My body shatters.

A strangled moan rips from my throat as my release crashes over me, my body trembling as I come undone around him. His pace stutters, his breath catching before a deep, guttural groan spills from his lips. He buries himself inside me, his release surging, filling me until I feel like I might break apart all over again.

The sound of our pleasure, our bodies still moving together, prolonging the bliss, fills the air, raw and unfiltered.

He doesn’t stop. Not until my legs give out beneath me, my body too spent to hold itself up.

As my knees buckle, he catches me.

Strong arms wrap around me, stopping me from collapsing onto the cold tile. His breath is ragged against my temple as he tucks himself away, his hands firm as they adjust me against his chest. Then, without hesitation, he lifts me, hooking his arms beneath my legs, carrying me effortlessly across the room.

Back to the couch.

Settling down, he keeps me in his lap, my body curled into him, buried in the warmth of his chest. My pulse is erratic, matching his, our breaths still uneven as we try to ground ourselves, to find something solid in the aftermath of what we just did.

I close my eyes, listening to his heartbeat, letting it lull me back to reality.

Then, barely above a whisper, fragile and uncertain, I ask, “D-did you mean it?”

---