CHAPTER SIX
Eva’s body trembled as she adjusted her red dress, her torn panties sticking to her thighs, wet with Hayes’s c*m and her own juices.
His lips had left her n*****s sore, his hand brushing her hair as they parted in the quiet office, the air thick with the smell of their s*x.
She walked into the hallway, the lights bright, her legs weak, her mind spinning with his touch, his voice claiming her.
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The next day, class felt endless. Eva sat in the back, her tight black skirt hugging her hips, the hem high on her thighs, her blouse thin, no bra, her n*****s hard against the silk.
Her p***y throbbed every time Hayes’s eyes met hers during the lecture. He stood at the front, his voice steady, talking about John Donne’s poetry, his shirt tight across his chest.
Sophie sat
