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“You filthy fucking girl. I could become addicted to this.”
I whimper. “Me, too. I don’t want tonight to end. Just keep me here locked up as your sex slave, please.” He gives me a smirk that would make my knees give out had I not already been laying down.
“My sex slave, huh? That would require you taking my cock like a good little slut, and well, Olivia,” he tsks, clucking his tongue. “Frankly, I’m not so sure you can handle it.”
I scoff indignantly. “I can certainly be your good little slut for one night, Professor.”
“Good, because I plan to fuck you like one.” He pumps his cock as he watches me, searching my face for a reaction.
The sight of him and not being able to do a blessed thing about it drives me insane. I don’t think I’ve ever been this desperate for anything.
“Do you plan on doing that today? Because I’m fucking dying over here.”
“Keep it up and I’m going to flip you over right here.”
Holy fuck. “Sure you will.” I bite my lip as I give him a contemptuous look.
Lifting me like a rag doll, he follows through on his threat and spanks me hard enough that I’m sure there are welts already forming. More concerningly, I have no doubts he’ll need to change his sheets from that one spank alone.
“Does that tight little pussy have a position in mind? You’ve gotta be getting sore.”
“I’m good, actually. All that yoga has paid off for something, apparently. Fuck me like this. It’s literal torture that I can’t get enough of.”
“You’re sure, Olivia? There’s no going back from here,” he warns sternly, as a flash of concern dances in his eyes.
“I think we’re too far gone, anyway. What does this matter?”
He chuckles darkly as he rolls the condom over his erection. “Oh, I think we’re both about to figure that out together.” He seats himself at my entrance and buries himself tauntingly slowly, stretching me with every inch he gives me. When he finally sinks to the hilt, I already feel myself contracting around him.
“Fuck,” he growls. “Already?”
“Will you shut the fuck up and fuck me already, Tomas?” He smirks as he speeds his thrusts and I lose myself in the pleasure. For once, he is rendered speechless. Our bodies, our groans and moans, do all the communicating we need.
“So fucking tight, Olivia. I can feel you gripping me. Are you going to come all over my cock, hmm?” His words are enough to send me spiraling. His nails dig into my thighs as I come so hard that I can’t even make a noise. Just as my orgasm ends, Tomas’ begins. He groans as I writhe against him with what energy I have left. He undoes the restraints and collapses on me, kissing my neck and then my mouth.
The tears blindside me. “Why am I crying like a little bitch?” I laugh.
He pushes my hair out of my eyes. “You’re not a little bitch, Olivia. You’re just trying to come down off of the euphoria.” I nod, as I don’t even know what to say. He was right about me, at least. This changes things. I don’t know why. It shouldn’t. Of all people, I should be able to separate lust and feelings. Maybe it was the combination of the whole day, the semester, or maybe it was something worse. Maybe it was the fact that I knew I was going to have to look this man in the eyes for the next twelve weeks, knowing I had him do every filthy thing he claimed he would, and I broke apart countless times in response.
“What?” He’s staring at me like he’s seeing me for the first time, and it makes me uneasy.
“Nothing. I just don’t think you know how beautiful you are.” He shakes his head before shrugging on his jeans and a shirt.
“It’s late. I need to get you back to your car.” I can see the switch flipped, the sign that this whirlwind of a day is over. Knowing the rejection was coming didn’t make it easier to swallow. I could protest and part of me wants to act like a petulant child right now. While I'm willing to beg in the bedroom, I'm not willing to beg him to want me to stay. Instead, I hide the sting of it as I get up and turn away from him.
I nod slowly. The knot in my throat is thick and difficult to untangle. "You're right. We have class tomorrow."
He swallows, his Adam's apple bobbing. At least it looks like his self-righteous act is upsetting him. I reach out, tracing my index finger along his brown stubble. He's usually clean shaven, but the soft fuzz lining his strong jawline makes him look older, more mature. Coupled with the sporadic salt and peppered hair lining his temples, his handsome profile sends more heat straight to my core. Even after the events of tonight, this is far from out of my system. In fact, I think it might be too much. I told myself when this started, it was just a rebound and I could manage. Tonight has proven to me that I can't. It’s a good thing we planned for this and it ends tonight.
I dress and he leads me to the car. Surrounded by silence and the darkness of the night, we look straight ahead. I don’t know what he’s thinking or feeling, but this level of bone-deep hurt and sense of loss was more than I was expecting. We park and Tomas removes a hand from his leather steering wheel, capturing my hand and kissing it. I try to tamper down the butterflies that flutter in my stomach, to no avail. He rests his hand on my knee. I try to tell myself that how comfortable and natural it feels means absolutely nothing.
"No funny business tomorrow." He fully turns, eyeing me suspiciously.
I gape at him in mock surprise, pretending my mood is light. "Me? Funny business? I'm offended."
He rolls his eyes. "I mean it. You're distracting enough as it is.” My breath hitches as he regards me. I almost do stop breathing as he grabs the back of my head, bunching a fistful of my hair and pulling me towards him. The center console digs into my stomach with mild discomfort that disappears as Tomas presses his forehead to mine, our noses kissing. My mouth parts, silently imploring him to claim it. He pulls back, running his fingertips along my cheeks.
"I had a great time with you today, Tomas. Maybe in another life I'll be older,” I say with a somber smile. He doesn't respond, just kisses me deeper. He reaches to the side of him, holding the button to recline his seat. I have some leverage, but not enough. My phone starts buzzing in the bottom of my purse, snapping us from our reverie. I turn back to him, probing his lips with my tongue.
