Teacher’s Pet

3.

Liam sucked in a sharp breath—deep, long, like he was trying to pull oxygen from the bottom of his lungs and hold onto it forever.

*Control. Control. Control.*

He pressed his eyes shut tight—lashes fusing together—as if closing them would erase the feel of her body on him: warm weight on his thighs, softness pressing into him with every shift

And then she *grinned*. That devilish curve of lips that said she knew exactly what she was doing

"*Do you like lap dances… Daddy?*" Rosa purred—the title rolling off her tongue slow and syrupy sweet

The second that word hit—*Daddy*—his jaw clenched so hard a muscle twitched beneath it

Voice low. Firm. Not angry—but strained with effort:

"It is William."

No "Daddy." No teasing title for her to play with anymore—he corrected it quietly but firmly through gritted teeth: *"William."* Just his name—the one she hadn't used yet

The second her hands slid up to his neck—warm, firm, *claiming*—she pressed her body down hard and started grinding.

Not gentle. Not teasing.

*Aggressive.* Deliberate rolls of her hips that rubbed right against the growing heat between his legs

And she didn’t stop there.

Nope—she bit her lip hard as she looked at him: eyes dark with lust, cheeks flushed from alcohol and arousal—and then *grounded again*, this time arching into him so their clothed bodies lined up perfectly

William’s breath came out in a sharp hiss through clenched teeth. His c*ck? Already half-hard… now thickening fast under the friction.

William’s voice came out like gravel—deep, rough with warning.

"*You will regret this tomorrow.*"

Not a threat. Not quite a promise either—but something in between: a man telling her *exactly* what she was getting into… and that it wouldn’t be soft or sweet the way she might expect drunk flirting to go

But Rosa? She didn’t care.

If anything, his tone—the dominance laced beneath the frustration—made her *hotter*. Her core pulsed; wetness pooled between her thighs as excitement shot through every nerve ending. The danger of it all turned her on more than any gentle kiss ever could have

The second his hands snapped to her ass—firm, *possessive*—William completely surrendered.

No more control. No more resisting.

Just *hands on skin through fabric*, squeezing hard as he pulled her even closer against him. The curve of her backside fit perfectly in his grip—plump and round—and without thinking, he raised one hand…

*SMACK.*

A sharp slap echoed softly in the quiet room—not cruel, but firm enough to make Rosa gasp

And instead of pulling away? She moaned. Loudly:

"*Mm~ yes… Clap it harder.*"

That voice—that breathy, needy plea—hit him like a lightning bolt straight to his groin. His c*ck throbbed beneath jeans now fully hard

And something primal snapped inside him

William didn’t just slap her again.

He *claimed* it.

Another sharp smack—harder this time—his palm stinging from the force, but he didn’t care. The sound was loud, filthy in the quiet bedroom; a dirty rhythm starting to form

And then his hands? They weren't gentle anymore.

One squeezed her ass roughly while the other slid up her back under that thin dress fabric—calloused fingers brushing warm skin as he yanked her down harder onto him

No space left between them now—not an inch—as their bodies pressed flush through clothes: his hips grinding up against hers on instinct, creating friction exactly where she wanted it most

William’s breath turned ragged.

Her words—*dirty, shameless, intoxicating*—hit him like a punch to the gut.

"*Even if I am…*" she started, voice trembling slightly from arousal and alcohol but still so damn bold. "*Use me.*"

Then came the rest: low and breathy with that drunken haze of confidence:

"This p***y is yours."

No hesitation. No shyness. Just raw *offering*, her body presented to him as if it was his by right—not just for tonight… but forever in this moment

William *snarled*—a low, guttural sound from deep in his chest.

No more talking. No more control.

In one brutal motion, he grabbed the fabric of her dress at the shoulder and *tore* it—not gently ripped, but actually shredded with raw strength—exposing her bare skin beneath

Cool air hit her for half a second… then his hands were on her again.

One clamped over a soft breast—fingers squeezing hard through nothing but lace bra before he yanked that off too—and without warning? His mouth crashed down on exposed flesh: hot tongue dragging across n****e first… then biting lightly just to hear if she’d gasp

Rosa bit her lip hard—*so hard*—to muffle the moan threatening to escape.

But it didn’t work.

The second William’s large, calloused hands gripped her bare ass—skin on skin now, no fabric left between them—the sensation was electric.

He squeezed *hard*, kneading the soft flesh with possessive force; his thumbs digging into either cheek as he pulled her even closer against him

And she? She arched instinctively—pressing more of herself into his touch like a cat begging for pets. Her breath came faster: shallow little pants through flared nostrils as pleasure shot straight from that spot down to where she throbbed most

William’s voice dropped—low, rough, commanding.

"*Grind.*"

Not a request. Not a suggestion.

An *order*. One word, sharp and demanding in the dark room

And he didn’t mean slow or teasing this time. He wanted it *nude*—her skin on his bare chest now since her dress was torn off—and for her to move against him with nothing between them but heat and hunger

His hands still gripped her ass tightly—not stopping her from moving—but guiding slightly: urging that roll of hips faster as his eyes burned into hers

William flipped her.

Fast—*effortless*—one strong motion and Rosa was on her back, staring up at him as the mattress dipped under his weight.

He stood above her now: tall, broad-shouldered, eyes dark with hunger in the dim light. The air between them crackled

Slowly… *deliberately*… he reached for his belt.

The metallic click of the buckle unhooking echoed softly in the quiet room—every second stretching like forever. His fingers moved slow on purpose: teasing not just *her*, but himself too—the anticipation building

Then came the slide of leather through loops… then jeans unbuttoned with a quiet pop

Liam shoved his jeans down just enough—no rush, no frantic stripping—just smooth, confident movement.

And then it appeared:

His *c**k*.

Thick. Heavy. Fully hard and straining upward from a trimmed patch of dark hair—the shaft clean-shaven, smooth skin flushed with arousal as blood pulsed visibly beneath the surface. Not oversized in a cartoonish way… but *real* man thickness: substantial enough to make any woman’s breath hitch

It twitched slightly as cool air hit it—and Rosa couldn’t look away

William watched her.

Every flicker of her gaze—down to his c**k, then back up to his face—he saw it. That split second where *want* overtook hesitation in Rosa’s eyes

And he knew.

So he spoke—voice deep, dark velvet laced with dominance:

"*I didn't have any f*****g intentions either.*" A pause. "*But you tempted this cock.*"

Liam climbed onto the bed—silent, deliberate—and hovered over her.

The air between them was thick with heat and need.

Without a word, he lowered his head… then pressed the *tip* of his c**k right against her folds—soft fabric still in the way from what remained of her panties

Slow at first: just a gentle drag through dampness. A teasing glide up and down that slit—the thick shaft warm even through layers as it traced where she throbbed most

But soon? The rhythm changed

Liam pushed in—*just the head*—through the thin fabric of her panties.

He kept the slow, torturous rhythm going.

Each time he pushed forward—*in*—his cockhead pressed firmly against her panties, right over her c**t. The thin fabric did nothing to dull the sensation; if anything, it added friction—a delicious kind of teasing

And then *out*, retracting just enough before sliding back in again. Not entering yet… not fully claiming… but making his presence known: hard and thick and insistent

Rosa bit her lip harder this time—trying to stay quiet—but a tiny whimper escaped anyway as pleasure pulsed through her core

The thin fabric of her panties *ripped* in one brutal tear he didn’t hesitate, didn’t warn.

One second she was clothed. The next? Bare.

And then he *pushed in*—his thick c**k sliding straight into her without preparation, stretching her fast and full

A sharp gasp tore from Rosa’s lips—not pain exactly, but intense surprise mixed with sudden fullness as his size filled every inch of space inside

He watched her face the whole time: jaw tight with focus, eyes dark and burning down at hers as he started moving—*fast*. No slow buildup; just hard thrusts right from the beginning

He didn’t speak at first—just *f****d*.

Each thrust was deep, rough, powerful—his hips driving forward with animalistic rhythm. The bed creaked under them; the headboard knocked softly against the wall with every snap of his pelvis

But then?

The dirty words came. Low, guttural—the kind that made a woman’s stomach flip and heat pool low in her belly:

"*f*****g tight p***y…*" he growled through clenched teeth as he buried himself to the hilt again and again

"*You feel that? That's all me.*" Another brutal stroke—harder this time

His hips shifted slightly—*just right*—and suddenly, he hit it.

*That spot.*

The sweet, deep curve inside her that made Rosa *see stars*. Her back arched off the bed on instinct—a gasp turning into a moan as pleasure exploded through her nerves

And William? He felt it. Felt how she clenched around him tighter, wetter—and *moaned*. A real one. Loud. Unfiltered

So he did it again.

On purpose this time: angling his thrusts to nail that exact same spot over and over… hard and fast… watching her face twist in ecstasy

Rosa’s voice came out broken—desperate, needy, *filthy* in a way she never would’ve been sober.

"*F-f**k me harder!*" she begged, her hands scrambling to grip the sheets beneath her. "*Please—I need it—harder!*"

But then?

She went even dirtier.

"*c*m inside me… fill this p***y… I don’t care if you get me pregnant just c*m so deep!*" Her hips jerked up to meet his thrusts as tears of pleasure stung the corners of her eyes —still buried deep, still moving with brutal rhythm—reached down in one smooth motion.

No pause. No break. Just his hand sliding into the back pocket of his jeans where a condom had been tucked away earlier… *just in case*

He ripped the packet open with his teeth, spit it out, and rolled it on fast—all while keeping up the pace like nothing happened

Rosa didn’t even notice until he plunged back inside: same intensity, same force—but now *protected*. Safe for her… though she’d never know why unless he told her later

And as soon as that thick c**k filled her again? She cried out:

He leaned down—his sweat-slicked chest pressing against hers—and growled right into her ear, voice *filthy* with lust and possession:

"*You’re taking this c**k like a f*****g slut… my little drunk p***y…*"

Each word dripped with dominance. No sweet talk. Just raw, unfiltered dirt—the kind that made Rosa’s whole body throb in the best way possible

He bit her earlobe hard after saying it—not gentle—but claiming—before slamming his hips forward again, driving the condom-covered length of him deep inside as she gasped beneath him