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She pressed her cheek against the carpet, lifting her ass higher. “That’s it,” I muttered. Gripping my cock, I guided myself to the entrance of her pussy. She was trembling with anticipation, her need palpable.
“Beg me for it,” I said, rubbing my thick tip through her wetness. “Beg your professor to fuck you.”
Her breath hitched as she opened her mouth. “Please, Professor Ashford, will you fuck me?”
“Who do you belong to?” I asked, teasing her clit.
Drunk or not, I knew the words were hard for her to say. “You,” she finally whispered. “I belong wholly to you.”
Before she could get them out, I shoved inside her, feeling her pussy around my cock for the first time. She screamed, her voice breaking as I ruthlessly pounded inside her. “Play with your clit,” I growled, knowing I wouldn’t last much longer. “Do it!” I spanked her ass again, watching it jiggle.
Her hand disappeared between her legs, and she gasped as she rubbed her swollen clit with frantic movements. With every swipe of her fingers, I felt it against my cock, and my eyes rolled back.
“That’s fucking it,” I groaned. “Come on my cock, little fawn.”
Her walls clenched around me, and I gripped her hips tighter, pulling her back against me with each thrust.
“You feel so fucking good,” I said, my voice guttural. Her body trembled under mine, and I knew neither of us would last much longer. “You’re going to make me come.”
“I’m so close,” she cried. That was all I needed to hear to fuck her harder and faster, chasing my own release.
“I’m going to come inside you,” I muttered, and felt her body tense.
“Wait.” She glanced at me over her shoulder, her body jerking forward. I forced her back against me, my cock thickening as she tried to pull away from me again. “I’m not on the pill. Wait?—”
I was too close to my own release to care about her protests. “Please,” she breathed, but I didn’t stop. I couldn’t. All I cared about was claiming her in every way possible.
She tried to move away again, but I tightened my grip on her hips, forcing her to take every inch. Holding her in place, I fucked into her at a brutal, punishing pace.
“I’m not on the pill,” she said again, desperation creeping into her voice. I ignored her words and focused on the feel of her tightness rippling around me. She was so wet and hot, and the thought of getting her pregnant made my cock thicken. The thought of trapping her and keeping her with me forever made a low groan leave me.
She tried to push herself up on shaky arms, but before she could try to get away again, I pressed my hand to the center of her back, pressing her down. Reaching around, I found her abandoned clit with my fingers, rubbing roughly at her. Even if she didn’t mean to, she arched back into me with a needy whimper.
That was all the confirmation I needed to keep going.
“I know you want this,” I said, fucking into her harder. “Tell me you want it.”
She shook her head, rubbing her face against the carpet. I slammed into her so hard, I felt her cervix, and she cried out. “Ask me if you want me to come inside you,” I snarled.
Her voice shook as she said, “Will you come inside me?”
I laughed as I straightened, rubbing at her clit until her body was shaking. “Come with me,” I told her. A whimper was her only answer.
I felt her cunt tighten around me, and I couldn’t hold back anymore. I thrust into her a few more times, then stilled, my head falling back as my hot cum spurt inside her, claiming her. Her pussy milked every drop from me, but I didn’t stop rubbing her clit until she cried out her own release and tightened around me until it was painful.
Finally, she relaxed, and I slid from her, watching my cum spill out and drip onto the carpet. She kept her face pressed into it as she tried to catch her breath. I chuckled to myself, loving that she fought me every step of the way. But in the end, I won, just like I always did.
Her eyes fluttered open, and she glanced back at me. We stared at each other for a long moment, an understanding settling over us. She belonged fully to me now, and we both knew she could never escape.
Chapter Twenty
“Are you okay?” I murmured, running my hand over her back. She still hadn’t moved, and a part of me was starting to worry. “Are you hurt?”
“I’m fine.” It was hard watching her push herself onto her knees. She shook with every movement, weak from the alcohol, her intense orgasm, and the abuse her body had just gone through.
Standing, I put my boxers on and reached for her. She let me lift her into my arms, cradling her against my chest. I’d clean up the living room later; for now, I needed to take care of her.
“I’m sorry if I was too rough with you,” I said softly. She rested her cheek against my chest, and that’s when I noticed the red rug burns on her knees. Kicking the bathroom door open, I set her on the counter, ignoring the layer of grime she likely felt against her skin.
