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“How… long again?” she mutters panting between two sobs.

“Enough for you to come,” I grit, pushing her up and down brutally.

Her deep and raspy moans disappear against my skin as I plant gentle kisses on her neck.

“That’s it, let go for me,” I whisper as she closes her eyes and choke on her own breath.

My hand dug into her ass, opening her legs wider. Air became rarer as every muscle of my body tense. A long and deep thrust was all it took for me to follow her with a long guttural moan escaping my lips.

I’m still buried deep inside her, the car windows were fogged, strands of hair cling on her face and she smiles at me, breathless.

“You look pretty, ruined like this,” I whisper, grinning at how good pleasure looks on her.

She laughs, still catching her breath and replies, “You look pretty handsome like that too.”

I reach behind her, removing the belt from her wrists, freeing both of her hands, and pressing my lips against hers. We push a part as something knocks against the window.

“The belt—” Reya’s sentence is cut off as the back door is opened.

“Reya, I lost it, we’re fucked.” Hayzel announces slipping into the backseat.

Mireya jumps to the passenger seat, her hair ruined, her skirt up her waist as she quickly adjusts it back down and I zip my pants back on immediately.

“Oh…” Her eyes move from me, to her, then back to me. “Oh?”

My hand is still on the window controls as I lower both windows another inch as she settles in.

Mireya leans toward me, whispering, “Damien, your belt…”

I glance down, seeing that she’s still got one hand caught in it, and reach over, freeing her wrist. Then I drop it out of sight fast.

“Belt?” Hayzel yells before a wide grin spreads across her face. “I should’ve known when I saw all the windows up.”

Mireya turns back to her, pointing at the small object next to her, “Stop it, you. And look.”

“Oh my purse.”

“Yeah,” Mireya clears her throat, already looking guilty. “I had it, forgot about it, sorry.”

Her friend stares at her for a second and laughs, “Liar.”

“I’m not lying.”

“You’re a terrible liar, Mireya.”

She reaches down, grabs her purse and extends her hand toward me before pulling it back, “Forget about the hand,” she whispers before continuing, “Hi Damien, or should I call you brother in law?”

I start the engine, chuckling softly before correcting her, “Professor Caldwell will do just fine, Ms Wynn.”

She laughs and Mireya cuts her off, “Don’t…”

“I haven’t said anything yet,” her friend replies.

“You’re thinking about it,” Mireya adds. “Very loudly.”

I pull away from the curb, letting their voices fill the car. They fall into conversation almost immediately, jumping from one thing to another, laughing over each other and arguing about what they’re going to eat back at the dorm.

Music is playing in the background but I focus on what they’re talking about. They ask my opinion sometimes and I try to give it but they argue with me instead so I stop.