Divine Milking System

Chapter 419: 419 | I’m Fucking Yours

I grabbed her panties and pulled them down.

The lace slid over the swell of her ass and caught briefly on her thighs before dropping to pool around her combat boots. She stood there bent over the desk with nothing protecting her from my gaze except the garter belt and stockings, completely exposed, completely vulnerable, completely mine.

Her pussy glistened in the fluorescent light. Wet enough that her arousal had started to run down the inside of her thighs. Wet enough that there was absolutely no question about whether she was enjoying this.

I spanked her bare skin.

The sound was different without the lace barrier. Sharper. More intimate. Her moan matched it, rising in pitch and desperation, and her knees buckled slightly before she caught herself against the desk.

"You’re so fucking wet." I traced a finger through the moisture between her legs. Gathered it on my fingertip and brought it to my mouth. She tasted like want and need and something distinctly Addison. "For someone who’s being punished, you seem pretty happy about it."

"Shut up." She tried to sound angry. Failed completely. "Just. Shut up and keep going."

"Keep going with what?"

"You know what."

"Say it."

"Fuck you."

I spanked her again. Harder this time. Hard enough that she cried out and her hips jerked forward and her hands slipped on the desk’s surface.

"Say it, Addison."

Her head dropped between her shoulders. Her breathing came in ragged gasps that shook her entire body. When she spoke, her voice was barely above a whisper.

"Spank me." She swallowed. "Please. Keep spanking me. I’ll be good. I’ll be so fucking good. Just please don’t stop."

I gave her what she wanted.

My palm connected with her ass in a rhythm that matched my heartbeat. Left cheek. Right cheek. The sensitive crease where her thighs met her bottom. The inside of her thighs themselves, spreading her legs wider, exposing her further, claiming territory that no one else had ever touched like this.

She stopped trying to form words. Stopped trying to maintain any pretense of control or dignity or the aggressive persona she showed to the rest of the world. She just moaned. Just pushed back into each strike. Just existed in the moment as a creature of pure sensation and need.

I stopped when her ass had turned a uniform shade of red. Stopped when my own breathing had gone ragged. Stopped when looking at her bent over that desk was about to drive me completely insane.

"The desk." My voice came out rougher than intended. "The teacher’s desk. Now."

She stumbled forward on unsteady legs. Kicked off her panties where they’d tangled around her boots and made her way to the larger desk at the front of the classroom. Her steps were uncoordinated. Drunk without alcohol. High on endorphins and submission and whatever else was happening in that beautiful head of hers.

The teacher’s desk was higher than the student desks. Heavy oak rather than cheap plywood. Solid enough to support weight without wobbling or shifting.

"Bend over it."

She draped herself across the surface.

The position was perfect. Her torso lay flat against the wood while her hips pressed against the edge, pushing her ass out at exactly the right angle. Her legs hung down the front of the desk, toes barely brushing the floor, not quite able to find purchase or support.

She was completely helpless like this. Unable to push back. Unable to control the pace or depth or angle. Unable to do anything except take whatever I decided to give her.

I stepped between her dangling legs.

My hands found her hips. Gripped the warm flesh hard enough to leave fingerprint bruises that would take days to fade. She made a sound that might have been my name and might have been a prayer and might have been nothing at all.

"Is this what you wanted?" I positioned myself against her entrance. Felt the heat radiating from her body. Felt how wet she was, soaked, dripping, ready for me in a way that went beyond physical arousal into something closer to spiritual need. "Is this what you walked through a hospital lobby for? What you stripped down to lingerie for? What you bit my thumb for?"

"Yes." The word came out broken. Shattered. "Yes. God. Yes. Please. I need. I need you to."

I pushed inside her.

Her body opened for me like coming home. Tight enough to make my vision blur around the edges. Wet enough that there was no resistance. Hot enough that I could feel her pulse around me, matching mine, syncing up into a rhythm that neither of us consciously chose.

Addison screamed.

Not a moan. Not a gasp. A full-throated scream that bounced off the classroom walls and echoed back at us from every direction. Her fingers scrambled against the desk’s surface, finding nothing to grip, nothing to hold onto, nothing to anchor her as I began to move.

"Fuck." She gasped the word between thrusts. "Fuck. Fuck. Oh god. Oh fuck."

I pulled almost all the way out and slammed back in.

Her legs kicked in the air. Dangling uselessly. Unable to reach the floor no matter how she stretched. The sensation made her even tighter around me, her body clenching in involuntary spasms that had nothing to do with conscious thought.

"You feel." I gripped her hips harder. Pulled her back to meet each thrust. "Incredible. You feel absolutely incredible."

"Don’t stop." Her voice had gone somewhere beyond language. "Whatever you do. Don’t you dare fucking stop."

I had no intention of stopping.

Each thrust drove her forward against the desk. Each retreat pulled her back toward me. She had no control over any of it. No ability to set the pace or adjust the angle or do anything except surrender to what I was doing to her body.

Her moans filled the classroom like music. Rising and falling in patterns that matched my rhythm. Breaking into fragments when I hit a spot that made her entire body shake. Dissolving into wordless sounds that weren’t quite screams and weren’t quite sobs and were entirely, perfectly, Addison.

I reached forward and grabbed her hair again.

Pulled her head back so sharply that her spine curved like a bow. The position was uncomfortable. Probably painful. She loved it. I could tell from the way her pussy clenched around me, from the way her moans jumped an octave, from the way she pushed back against me despite having no leverage to do so.

"Tell me you’re mine."

The words came from somewhere I hadn’t known existed until this moment. Some primal part of my brain that wanted to claim her. To mark her. To make sure she never forgot this moment for as long as she lived.

"I’m yours." She didn’t hesitate. Didn’t question. Just gave me exactly what I asked for. "I’m yours. I’m fucking yours. Whatever you want. However you want it. I’m yours."

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