I woke up in his bed at 6:47 a.m., sheets draped across my body, his arm was laid on my waist. He was still fast asleep, face half-buried in the pillow, his lips slightly parted, breathing slow and deep.
For the first time since I started attending his class I let myself really look at him, but not as Professor Hale, not as the man who f****d me senseless over a podium yesterday, but as a person.
I moved carefully on the book trying not to wake him yet. My body was so exhausted in the best way, my thighs were sore, n*****s tender, my folds swollen, a reminder of exactly how many times he had come inside me since Friday night. I
He stirred anyway in the cutest way. His eyes opened slowly, sleepy and dark, then focused on me. A lazy and sexy smile spread across his face.
“Morning, tro
