97. Alice

ALICE

I burrow deeper into the scent of brown sugar and make a humming sound.

Heat wraps around me, an echoing sound of comfort coming from the body in front of mine.

“Morning.” Michael’s voice is gruff.

“Morning,” I mumble against his chest before sniffing his shirt. “You smell like breakfast.”

A hand slides down my back to palm my ass. “I bet you taste like breakfast.”

I arch my back, pressing my ass into his hand.

Michael slaps it.

I let out a yelp, but my core pulses in response.

“Mr. Kesso,” I chastise.

Michael groans and rolls over me.

My legs spread as I settle onto my back, making room for Michael and his length between my thighs.

“Call me that again.” He rocks his hips, rubbing his cock against my core. My thin sleep shorts and his boxer briefs are the only barrier between us.

I grab his sides, holding him to me. “Are we going to practice for our cooking class, Mr. Kesso?”

A big hand reaches down and pinches my nipple through my tank top. “If the class gets to watch us do this, then we need to charge more.”

A moan gets caught with a laugh in my throat. “Anything for the students, sir.”

Michael groans and reaches lower.

I expect him to slide his hand inside the top band of my shorts, but he reaches lower.

My shorts are loose enough that he’s able to pull the fabric between my legs over to one side, exposing the fact that I’m not wearing panties.

“Tsk, tsk, Ms. Hatter.” The back of his fingers drag across my damp entrance. “Violating dress code on your first day of class.”

Holy fucking snowflakes. Michael dirty talking is the hottest thing in the whole wide world.

My chest heaves. “Wh-What are you going to do to me, Mr. Kesso?”

“Punish you.” He shifts, moving his hand away from my body. Then the hot tip of his dick slaps down against my slit. “With a pounding.”

Michael shifts his hips, then slams into me.

And at the same time, my alarm starts to blare.

It’s sensory overload.

My pussy is stretched around him.

My heart is galloping like a herd of reindeer in my chest.

And I can’t even hold onto him because my muscles are too weak with pleasure.

“Best come for me quick, Ms. Hatter.” Michael’s breaths are ragged. “This is the third time your alarm has gone off. You’re going to be late for class if you don’t hurry up.”

“Third time?” I pant.

Michael’s hips are moving fast, pounding into me like he promised, and my pulse can’t keep up.

Then I really register what he said, and I turn my head to look at the clock.

“Michael!”

He slams into me. “That’s not what you call me, Ms. Hatter. Now rub your clit and tell me you’re sorry.”

Lust crashes over me, and I wedge a hand between us to do as I’m told.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Kesso.” My bud is so sensitive that the moment my fingers connect, I feel myself climbing toward the crescendo. “I’m so sorry I misbehaved. Please don’t make me late.”

“That’s a good girl.” Michael’s body tenses. He’s just as close as I am. “Now make yourself come on my cock, Ms. Hatter, and I’ll give you that A you want.”

That shouldn’t be hot.

Just like calling him Santa shouldn’t have been hot.

But it is.

And I can’t hold back anymore.