“I’ll deal with it, Sylvie. But next semester, I’m moving us back into the instructor roles for this class,” he says, leaning his head against my forehead.
“Good. I miss having amazing orgasms all the time,” I say, teasing him since I’ve been in his room every night since I got on the Train.
He growls, like I planned he would, and he lifts me off the table, putting me on my feet. Then he takes my hand and leads me to the locker room.
“Where are we going?” I ask.
“We’re going to wash the scent of Alpha Asshole off of you and then I’m going to remind you of whose pussy that is,” he says, and my hungry little pussy begins pulsing at what I know will be some of the most fantastic orgasms of my life.
He pulls the robe off me after turning on the shower, then he strips and pulls my body against his. “I have an idea.”
“What’s that?” I ask, running my fingers over his muscular chest. I’ve become so familiar with the feel of his body that I miss it when I don’t touch him enough.
“I know you’ll eventually have to start meeting with him alone in between class times. When you do, come to me afterwards. Please goddess, shower first. But then come to me so I can reclaim you as mine.”
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“Am I yours?” I ask him, desperately wanting him to say yes.
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He gently pushes me under the spray of the shower, running his hand over my hair to get it wet.
“When we’re here, you’re mine. I know we agreed that when we‘ re away from here, we can do whatever we want. But here, yes, you’re mine,” he says, looking at me with sadness in his eyes.
I’m not sure what the sad look means, but before I can ask, he leans down, kissing me softly at first. The kiss slowly deepens,
and I wrap myself around him, loving the familiar feel of his strong arms wrapped tightly around me.
He pulls away, washing my hair, then conditioning it. He doesn’t say anything, and neither do I. I guess we’re both lost in our own thoughts.
When my hair is rinsed, he turns me so my back is to his front.
“I won’t lie and say I’m okay with his scent being all over you. But I am happy that your orgasms still belong to me,” he murmurs, as he begins washing my body. I lean back, lifting my head in the submission that I know he craves as he teases my body, letting the soap add a slippery layer as he teases my nipples.
“Remind me, who does this pussy belong to?” he asks quietly, his fingers sliding between my folds.
“Me,” I say, knowing I’m throwing down a challenge. He’ll make sure I know that my pussy belongs to him before he lets me go tonight.
“Is that so?”
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“It’s attached to my body, isn’t it?” I murmur as he begins rubbing my clit. The man has magic fingers but they are nothing compared to his mouth or that fantastic penis he has.
“It can be attached to your body, Sylv, but that doesn’t mean you own it,” he growls, sliding one hand down my back and between my thighs, slipping two fingers inside me while he continues to work my clit.
“This pussy belongs to me,” he says, biting down on my ear. “Say it.”
“No. It’s mine,” I pant, putting my hands against the wall to hold myself up.
“I say when this pussy gets to come. I say when this greedy pussy has to be a good girl and wait to get what she wants,” he says, sliding his fingers out of me.
An involuntary whimper escapes as he turns me around and pushes me against the tile wall.
This time, his kiss is demanding, punishing me for my insolence while he tugs on my nipples making my already aching core throb with need.
He kneels in front of me, tugging a leg over his shoulder.
“Whose pussy is this?” he asks, looking up at me as he rubs his fingers from my soaked entrance to my clit and back again.
“Mine,” I say, barely able to get the words out.
“Tsk, tsk, tsk. That’s a naughty little pussy, lying to the man who owns her,” he says, before his mouth latches on to my clit and
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his tongue, his fucking fantastic tongue, begins working me up to the point where I’m about to explode. Then he pulls off, the bastard.
“Tell me again. Who does this pussy belong to?” he asks, sliding his fingers inside me and stroking me while I whimper.
“Me,” I whimper.
