30. Cohen

30

COHEN

ME:

What are you wearing to class today?

EMILY:

I'm not a doll, Cohen. I don't need your help dressing myself.

ME:

That's probably for the best. I much prefer undressing you, babe.

ME:

Don't wear yellow again. It dulls your eyes. You look better in blue.

I shoved my phone back into my pocket, not bothering to wait for a reply. I was in a good mood and didn't want Emily's attitude to dampen it.

Sure, I appreciated a little brattiness here and there. Shit got my dick hard. But it also got under my skin for as long as it took to finally get her alone and fuck some good sense into that cunt of hers.

And I didn't have time for any of that today. I'd been missing too many hours during my clinical rotations and people were starting to take notice. Talk. Suggest my head wasn't in the game.

Of course, they were wrong. Emily might have been a distraction but she also kept me hyperfocused on the end goal. My surgical residency working alongside Dr. Rath. Guy was a sick fuck with a well-deserved ego. Someone who was known to bend the rules. Or so it'd been rumored. I was promised free rein in his operating room—seeing as another thing that was rumored was his affinity for watching.

The first cut into live flesh, the peeling back of muscle tissue, and the last breath. He watched it all. Got off on it. Which was hard to do when you were the one holding the scalpel.

My phone buzzed in my pocket, just as I tossed my helmet on and was about to throw a leg over my bright-yellow bike—because fuck if I didn't like being seen. I flipped open the face shield and glanced at the screen.

J:

Ten minutes early. Blue dress with yellow flowers. White sweater. No breakfast.

I replied with a thumbs-up emoji, my lips tipped up to one side without meaning to as I navigated to Emily's name in my contacts and opened our chat thread.

ME:

Your breakfast will be there in ten. Keep playing games, babe, and I'll be forced to crash another lecture and kiss you stupid in front of everyone again.

I wouldn't be the one delivering her coffee today. I had people for that. It was amazing what a few forged scripts for Adderall could get you when you were surrounded by a shit-ton of stressed-out college students all itching for a quick fix. Pills really were the best form of currency. Which was entirely too convenient for someone with access to overworked doctors—as long as you weren't going crazy with the opiates, no one seemed to notice. Or care.

A few minutes later, Jason sent through a picture of Emily sipping on a white paper cup from the campus cafe. And I promised to drop off a month's supply of ten mills to his dorm room tonight. Gave me an excuse to see Emily while I was there.

Really was a win-win when you thought about it.

I honestly couldn't decide what was better. The feel of someone's guts in my hands or Emily's around my cock. Though right now, there was definitely one I preferred.

I pushed through her dorm room door, not bothering to knock, and made it to her bed before she had time enough to sit up and gasp. I closed a palm over her mouth and pressed my lips to the shell of her ear, shushing her as she choked back a scream. Then I dropped my hand and slowly pushed her back down on the mattress.

"Cohen, what are you?—"

Her words were severed as I shoved my tongue into her mouth while trailing my fingers along her abdomen before slipping them beneath the waistband of her sleep shorts. Emily groaned, low in her throat, and I grinned at the little whimpers that followed.

No matter how much her brain wanted to fight me and my many demands, her body never could. And the truth was, mine was just as inhibited. I craved her, the thought of sliding my cock into her cunt enough to send me into a frenzy.

I thought I'd get over it after the first time. Assured myself I would by the third. Now, I accepted the fact I needed her. That I might always need her. And she needed me too. There was no other explanation for the way she clawed at my back at night and wanted to claw at my face by the light of day.

It was toxic and I fucking loved it. I loved her compulsion to hate me and her inability to do so. There was just something so intoxicating about knowing something was bad for you and wanting it anyway.

I tugged her shorts down her soft thighs and she kicked them off her ankles with her feet, scrambling to wrap her leg around my waist through my jeans. I could feel how wet she was each time she ground her cunt against me, her juices seeping into my clothes and keeping her scent locked in the tiny fibers. I would be able to smell her for days if I wanted.

She fumbled with my t-shirt, trying to tug it over my head without breaking the kiss. I pulled back just long enough to tear it off and then my mouth was on hers again. Biting, licking, and sucking. Far more animalistic than human. Then we were both yanking on my jeans, shoving them down my legs before I kicked off my shoes and socks. Emily's tank top was the last article of clothing to hit the floor, and then I was flipping her onto her back. Spreading her thighs and thrusting forward.

It was always a challenge at first, to push through the slight resistance before her cunt was hugging me like I fucking belonged. Holding me in place before sucking me deeper. I knew it was a mix of endorphins and serotonin, this feeling, this need. I knew and I didn't care because it felt fucking fantastic.

Emily's body moved in tandem with mine, her hips lifting up each time I drove forward. She'd stopped bothering to ask for a condom and I never bothered to bring one. Nothing could compare to the slapping of skin to skin, to the friction of her walls closing around my cock. We both knew it even if neither of us said it.

She was close. I could tell by the change in her pattern of breathing. The way her head tipped back and her movements grew languid. The fast and hard brought her to the precipice, but the slow and steady was what sent her flying over. I arched my back and lowered my mouth to one of her pert nipples, enjoying the way her entire body shuddered with the contact. It didn't take but three more rigid thrusts before Emily's muscles were spasming and turning gelatinous beneath my grip.

I continued to fuck her through her orgasm, my attention hyperfocused on her face and the tension leaving her features. Her expression softening and her lips curling into the smirk of a woman properly fucked.

I gave her a few seconds of reprieve before rising up on my knees. Grabbing on to the headboard and setting the tip of my cock against her slightly parted mouth. Emily's eyes snapped open and peered up at me.

"My turn, babe." I grinned.