Chapter 149 My Pussy Belongs To You
I obeyed, scooting back on the bed and raising my bound wrists above my head. He climbed over me, his weight settling between my thighs, and just the feel of his skin against mine made me whimper.
"Look at me," he commanded, lining himself up at my entrance. "I want to watch your face when I fill you."
Our eyes locked as he pushed inside, stretching me open, inch by thick inch until he was buried to the hilt. My mouth fell open in a silent moan, my walls clenching around him, trying to adjust to his size.
"Fuck," he groaned, his forehead dropping to mine. "You're so tight. Squeezing my cock like you don't want to let go."
"I don't," I gasped. "God, Marcus, you feel so good. So perfect."
He started moving then, slow at first, deep rolls of his hips that had him dragging against every sensitive spot inside me. One of his hands came up to grip my bound wrists, pinning them to the mattress above my head, while the other cupped my jaw, forcing me to maintain eye contact.
"Whose pussy is this?" he asked, his thrusts getting harder.
"Yours," I whimpered.
"Say it properly." He slammed into me particularly hard, making me cry out.
"It's yours, Professor Bennett," I gasped. "My pussy belongs to you."
"That's right," he growled, releasing my jaw to grab my hip, angling me so he could thrust deeper. "Mine to fuck whenever I want. Mine to fill with my cum. Mine."
The possessiveness in his voice, the way he claimed me so completely, sent pleasure spiraling through me. I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him even deeper, and he groaned my name.
"More," I begged. "Harder. I need—"
He pulled out suddenly and flipped me onto my stomach in one smooth motion. My bound hands were now trapped beneath me as he hauled my hips up, leaving my ass in the air and my face pressed into the mattress.
"You want it harder?" he asked, his hand coming down on my ass in a sharp smack that made me yelp. "Want me to fuck you like the desperate little slut you are?"
"Yes!" I cried into the sheets. "Please, fuck me hard!"
He slammed back into me from behind, the new angle letting him go impossibly deep. His pace was brutal now, each thrust driving me forward on the bed, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room along with our moans.
His hand cracked against my ass again, and again, painting my skin with burning heat that somehow made everything better. I was drowning in sensation—the sting of the spanks, the stretch of his cock, the friction against my clit as he pounded into me.
"Such a good girl," he praised, his hand soothing the reddened skin before delivering another sharp smack. "Taking my cock so well. Were you thinking about this all week? Thinking about me bending you over and fucking you until you scream?"
"Every day," I sobbed into the sheets, my bound hands clenching into fists. "Every fucking day, I thought about this. About you. Only you."
He leaned over me, his chest against my back, his mouth at my ear. "You're mine now, Isla. Do you understand? Not just for tonight. Mine."
"Yes," I breathed. "I'm yours. Always."
He reached around to find my clit, rubbing tight circles that had my orgasm building again, higher and faster than before. "Then cum for me," he commanded. "Cum on my cock like a good girl."
His fingers pressed down harder, his hips driving into me relentlessly, and I shattered. My orgasm ripped through me like lightning, my pussy clamping down on him so hard he cursed. I screamed his name into the mattress as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over me, my whole body shaking.
"Fuck, Isla, I'm—" His rhythm faltered, his grip on my hip turning bruising. "Where—"
"Inside," I gasped, still trembling with aftershocks. "I want to feel you cum inside me. Please."
He groaned and thrust deep one last time, and I felt him pulse as he filled me with hot spurts of cum. His body went rigid above me, his cock jerking as he emptied himself completely. The feeling of his release, of being filled and claimed so thoroughly, sent another smaller orgasm rippling through me.
We collapsed together onto the mattress, both breathing hard, his cock still inside me as we came down from the high. After a moment, he carefully pulled out, and I felt his cum start to leak out of me.
He untied my wrists gently, rubbing the marks the silk had left, then rolled me onto my back so he could look at me properly. My mascara was completely destroyed, my hair a tangled mess, my lips swollen from kissing. I probably looked wrecked.
"You're beautiful," he said softly, brushing hair from my face.
Something in my chest tightened at the tenderness in his voice, so different from the dominant professor who'd just fucked me senseless.
"Marcus," I started, not sure what I wanted to say.
He kissed me, slow and deep, tasting like whiskey and sex and promises we shouldn't make. When he pulled back, his expression was serious.
"This isn't just sex for me anymore," he admitted. "I know it should be. I know it's dangerous and reckless and could destroy everything we've both worked for. But I can't stay away from you, Isla. I've tried."
"Then don't," I said, cupping his face. "Don't stay away. I don't care about the risks. I only care about this. About us."
"There is no us," he said, but his thumb was stroking my cheekbone with such gentleness that it belied his words. "There can't be. Not publicly. Not while you're my student."
"I know," I agreed. "But here, in private, we can be whatever we want. Can't we?"
He looked at me for a long moment, and I saw the war in his eyes—the logical professor warring with the man who wanted me as badly as I wanted him.
"Stay tonight," he said finally. "Let me have you properly. No rushing, no fear of getting caught. Just us."
I smiled, pulling him down for another kiss. "I wasn't planning on leaving."
I fell asleep curled against his chest, his arms wrapped around me, his heart beating steadily beneath my ear. And for the first time in weeks, the aching need that had consumed me was finally, blissfully satisfied.
At least until morning, when I knew we'd start all over again.
Because I was his now. And he was mine.
Consequences be damned.