"I don't want to anymore," Xia Yao whimpered, her face crumpled with the threat of tears. She pressed her hands against his chest, her voice small, almost pleading. "It feels so strange."

"You didn't say no when it hurt, but now that it feels good, you're done?" Zhou Ye watched the mixture of ar0usal and shyness playing across her features as he continued to thrust, his hips a relentless rhythm against hers. He hadn't stopped, not even for a second. "Baby, look, you're still so wet."

"I'm not," Xia Yao insisted, close to tears. She gripped his hard forearms as he lowered his head. 

"Shh, listen."

He pressed his hand against the soft skin of her inner thigh, maintaining the rhythm, his strong, taut abdomen flexing with each powerful thrust. The slick, er0tic sounds of their coupling filled the air, a wet, rhythmic squelching.

"...That's you. Still saying you're not wet? How many times have you denied it now?"

Xia Yao shook her head, refusing to answer. Her hands pushed against him, a futile attempt to create distance.

Zhou Ye, though consumed by desire, saw her discomfort, her struggle to reconcile with the pleasure coursing through her. His expression turned serious as he groaned, his thrusts growing deeper, more forceful.

"It's okay to be wet. I love it when you're wet..." He panted, his voice husky and broken. "Mmm... I'm thinking, you must really like me to be this wet. Do you like it when I fvck you?"

His abdomen was lean and muscled, a faint roadmap of veins tracing upwards from his groin. Young and powerful, he moved with an instinctive urgency, his hard c0ck grinding against the sensitive flesh that had brought her to the edge.

"W-Zhou Ye..."

Zhou Ye was having a lucky night; he’d found her sweet spot on the first try. "Here?" he asked, his voice laced with knowing confidence as he targeted the sensitive spot again and again.

Xia Yao moaned, her porcelain chin tilting upwards, her body writhing with a mixture of pleasure and a strange, unfamiliar ache. Her voice softened, almost involuntarily. "It feels...wrong. So strange, Zhou Ye... Stop."

"This is what s3x feels like. Mmm, baby, spread your legs. Don't twist your hips..." As he spoke, the forceful tremors that rippled through her dislodged him.

With patient determination, Zhou Ye realigned himself and thrust deep inside her, the tip of his c0ck brushing against her cervix. "Don't be difficult. Do I need to tie you up?"

His words were almost harsh, but the intense pleasure that shot through her was undeniable. Her body trembled, her breath catching in her throat.

"Why are you panting?" He cupped her flushed, damp face, turning it towards him. Seeing the tears welling in her eyes, he gently wiped them away with his thumb, his gaze lingering on every detail of her face. "Breathe. Relax, okay?"

His voice softened, and Xia Yao reached up to wrap her arms around his waist, a soft whimper escaping her lips. "Class President, I really need to go home soon..."

"I know," he murmured, his lips pressing against hers. But his c0ck remained buried deep inside her, stretching her, making her clench around him. "I'll take you home when we're done. But right now, baby, can you just feel me? I'm right here, inside you."

"Mmm..." Xia Yao's fingers tightened on the white sheets beneath her, tears blurring her vision.

Her slender back and full hips were damp against the sheets, pinned beneath the weight of his n4ked body. Her hair moved with the rhythm of their bodies.

His breath, hot against her skin, mingled with her own ragged gasps. He was relentlessly targeting that sensitive spot inside her, driving her wild. The pleasure was so intense that she writhed beneath him, her toes curling and uncurling with every thrust.

Where had he learned to do this to her? To make her feel this way?

Her knees pressed against his hips, a pang of something bittersweet twisting in her chest. Had he done this with other women? How could he be so skilled?