TEASES

An appealingly alluring pair of eyes are scrutinizing my face when I awaken. Like always, the Greek god is flawless—not like he just awoke from sleep. At this enchanting sight, I grin.


My life's best night was last night. We had more than simply romance, and I just unearthed that an incredible night isn't only characterized by having sex. We went straight to bed after our deep, steamy shower kisses. He put us under this duvet and scooped me up in his loving arms. We snuggled up to each other, kissed each other goodnight, and then drifted off to a sound slumber. It was beautiful! The best night I have ever had.

I felt different. I still feel different and special. As I gawk into his eyes this morning, I feel like number one. I feel like I own his heart already, or as if there is that possibility. I can't explain the glee I am basking in right now or where it is coming from. Or why. It is just naturally surging in me.

I pinch my hands to his chilled jaws, and I pull him for a deep, sweet morning kiss. I would love to always go to bed the way I did last night every day and wake up like this every single morning. How else can life be sweet if it is not this way?


He pulls away after a while. "You know I would kiss you the whole day if only that were possible, beautiful, but we are getting late." He leans in for another kiss, biting my lower lip a little as he pulls away.

"We?" I implore, stunned at his words. I don't recall us making any plans for today at all, unless my brain is still sleeping, which I doubt.


"Yes, we. You, baby," he pecks me again, "and I." Another peck!

Did I miss something last night? I don't recall us discussing today's plans, which is why my face conforms to a real shock right now. I am lost. "Where are we going?" I implore, but he just strips the duvet roughly from me, exposing my beautiful bare curves. I am not bashful. We are in uniform anyway, and it is crazy how I feel so free with us like this.

Before now, I would sheepishly be face-palming my face to conceal the rosiness when he ogles me like this, or perhaps yanking the duvet to hide my bareness, but today my brain seems to be functioning contrarily. He is turning me on, yes, but I adore it, and I am not ashamed to divulge just how much I relish his effects on me. He has seen every single part of me; more mesmerizing is how he doesn't grow bored of adoring me like this every single chance he gets. I still curse myself for not being able to tell him all about what he meant to me last night.

"Do you like what you see?" I tease, pulling him to sit on the bed, and I crouch on my knees between his legs, sloping my hands to massage his six-pack.

"I would be a half-man or a ridiculous dumbass if I didn't like these curves and your sweet ass. And oh, this," he pinches my nipples slightly, making me almost leap.

"Then, why don't you want to..."

"Touch you?" I wink to ascertain his point. "You haven't permitted me, baby."

Permit? Since when did he need my permission to fuck me? All the same, it sounds sweet that he can refrain himself until I permit him.

I lick my lips.

"And me, baby? Do I also require your consent to touch you, or," I thrust my right knee across his left thigh, encompassing him between my legs and running my index finger seductively from his lips down his belly, "fuck you?" I watch the movement of his Adam's apple up and down as he swallows hard at my gesticulations.

I can just be anything to him, you know. He weirdly turns me into something else, and I love it. I feel possessed with desires already.

"No, Ellie!" Damian's voice breaks through the air, firm yet filled with desire. "You don't need to ask to take control. If you want..."

I move my fingers over his hard-on, feeling him shudder under my touch. His eyes flutter closed briefly, savoring the sensation. He bites his lip, holding back a groan, and I bite mine, fighting the urge to giggle at the power I have over him.

I wrap my hand around his erection, feeling its heat and weight. Gently, I stroked him, teasingly pressing my chest against his, my nipples grazing his lips. His eyes snap open. He tries to capture my nipples with his mouth, but I playfully pull away, watching as his eyes widen with desire.

"You are getting quite naughty, aren't you?" His voice is a mix of cool restraint and burning desire, sending a wave of heat through me. My body responds, throbbing with need, as his words melt me down to my core.

"Who taught me this, huh?" I implore, my eyes becoming too bulky with lust. I want to take him now. I want to feel my walls clenching tight around his hard, huge meat as he thrusts in deeper and rougher, or deeper and gentler. Either way, he will just be sweet as always.


I gently nudge him to lie back, guiding him until he is reclined on his back, his body waiting and eager beneath me. With a confident stride, I straddle him, settling into position atop his thighs—a perfect fit that sends a thrill of anticipation coursing through me. My hand continues its rhythmic stroking of his shaft, the familiar weight and texture feeling so right in my grasp while filling him with pleasure.

As I hover over him, I feel a surge of power and desire, knowing that I hold the reins of pleasure in my hands. His breath comes in shallow gasps, his eyes locked on mine with an intensity that fuels the fire between us. With each stroke, I can feel him growing harder beneath my touch, responding to my every movement with a primal need that mirrors my own.

"You have become a naughty student then, because it is the teacher who should always be in control." He growls, his arms travelling to my nipples, giving them each a satisfying pinch and squeeze.