Page 88 of Cabin Fever

He nips my ear, then slides down and spreads my thighs with his big hands. “Then you better work for it, my dear student.”

He yanks my leg over his shoulder and licks me, slow and deep, tongue dragging over my clit until my eyes roll back in my head. He keeps going, relentless, switching from long, languid strokes to rough little circles that make me squirm and whine. He putstwo fingers in me, curling them just right, and I’m already teetering on the edge when he stops.

I glare down at him, desperate. “What the hell, Professor? Why did you stop?”

Talon kneels up, pushes his boxers down, and his cock bobs out, thick and dark, with delicious veins. He lines up at my entrance and slides in with a single, brutal thrust, making me arch up and bite his shoulder.

“Shhh, don’t want the dean to hear us,” he says, voice so deep it makes my insides clench.

I wrap my legs around his waist and dig my heels into his ass, pulling him deeper. “Breed me, big boy,” I whisper, “give me a baby.”

Talon laughs, a little wild, then fucks me so hard the whole bed shudders. I reach up and claw at his back, dragging him down for a kiss. He fucks me slow and deep, then faster, each thrust making me gasp until I’m whimpering into his mouth.

He grabs my ring hand and presses it to the mattress, pinning me as he pounds into me. “Mine,” he says, and it’s not the professor voice anymore—it’s just Talon, desperate and in love.

“Yours,” I moan, and then I’m coming, hard, everything going electric-white behind my eyes. He comes too, muffling the sound in my neck, his whole body shaking.

We stay like that, slick and tangled and panting, until the sweat starts to dry and I’m so sleepy I can’t even keep my eyes open.

Talon pulls the blankets up, spoons behind me, and kisses the back of my neck. “Best roleplay yet,” he mutters.

I yawn. “We should write a joint story one day, Talon. It would be fire.”

He chuckles. “It would, wouldn’t it?”

We lie there, the candle burning down to a nub, the snow piling up outside. On the desk by the window, two books sit side-by-side:Angel’s Share, with Talon’s name in gold, and my own draft, bound with rubber bands, still so new I can almost smell the printer ink.

I look at the books, at the ring on my hand, and at the man breathing slow and steady against my back.

For the first time, I feel like I belong in my own story.

And I can’t wait to see what comes next.

THE END