Student Secret

Chapter 16 : The Waiting Game

You traced her footsteps, following her into the en suite - still only in your clammy undergarments. She ran the shower, occasionally running her hand beneath the water as she gauged an appropriate temperature for you. You stood awkwardly behind her, not confident enough in this moment to strip as you grow increasingly sober with the passing minutes.

She smiles after a moment, seemingly having deemed the water fitting.
"I'll leave you to it."
She goes to leave, her eyes lingering against yours for a little longer than appropriate. Though, by atmosphere, you felt this wasn't lustful. She just wanted you.

You reach behind yourself to undo your bra, letting it fall to your feet before stepping out of your underwear. You slip past Natasha, taking her hand and lifting her shirt over her head. You step into the shower, letting the water run down your back and Natasha becomes completely unclothed, stepping in next to you as the glass begins to fog.
She turns you slowly, so that you're facing the shower head - your back against her front.
Gently, she touches her lips to the back of your neck, sliding your hair out her way. The water cascades over you both, the heat and steam of the shower encasing you.
You hear the cap of a bottle opening, and feel her run her fingers through your hair with what you can only assume is shampoo or conditioner.

You felt safe in her presence, with her touch on your skin. She caressed you like glass, so tender, so...loving.
"You know, Natasha..."
She kissed your neck, one hand on your waist as you turned to face her, the other wiping away the remaining suds from your hair and body.
"I feel like I know you so well, even though, I know I don't."
"Maybe you do know me, Y/N. Maybe you just don't like to think you do."
She looked so beautiful this way. Her hair soaked and falling messily into her face. The heat had turned her cheeks a soft pink, her lips plump from laying them against your skin.
"I think..."
She waited upon your continuing, though something told you she wanted to finish your sentence herself.
"I think I love you, Natasha."

You noticed the all-too familiar chewing of her inner cheek, her eyes widening a little at your statement. She leant past you, turning the dial and dragging you from the shower as the water came to a halt. Wrapping your hair in a towel, she propped you up atop the basin, your legs wrapping round her waist as her lips moulded against yours.
"Do you mean what you said?"
She spoke in broken sentence, her lips otherwise occupied.
"I do."

She wasted no time, your skin barely dry as you relocated from the basin to Natasha's bedsheets. She pinned you by your wrists, climbing on top of you and whispering sweet reassurances in your ear - metaphorically stripping you, dialling down whatever slivers of dignity remained between the apex of your damp thighs. She nipped at the skin of your neck, re-igniting whatever previous bruising existed and calling it her own - marking you as her's.
Your knees rested against her hips, pushing her, willing her to fuck you. You were practically begging her.

You tried to grab her, you wanted to feel her and hold her - yet she slammed your wrist into it's original position, then held both above your head. With one hand, she kept you in place, with the other, she tightened her fist round your neck - kissing the burn away as you whimpered, watching her squirm as she restricted your breath.
"Please, fuck me. We've waited long enough, haven't we?"
She smirked as she allowed you the right to air, her grip leaving the reddened imprint of her hand on your skin.
"Don't be such a pathetic, little slut. You'll finish what you started in class that day, then maybe...maybe, I'll fuck you."
She slid off the edge of the bed, dragging you with her, your hair bunched in her palm. You hadn't had someone be so rough with you before. Yes, Maria had been harsh and adamant, but Natasha's dominance left a sorry trail of arousal trailing the skin of your inner legs.

She pushed you to your knees, the hard floor undoubtedly leaving them bruised and raw.
"Keep your hands at your sides and do what I say. Okay?"
You nodded gently, which hardly satisfied her.
"Use your words, Y/N. Be respectful."
"Yes, Miss Romanoff."
She dragged her thumb across your bottom lip, slowly prying open your mouth and forcing her fingers inside. She held your jaw open, stepping over you and holding your head against her slicked pussy. You knew what to do, and based on the sounds escaping her throat, you did it well.

"You're too fucking good, Y/N."
She was dripping down your chin, your lips glossy with Natasha.
The sex felt almost religious - in the most blasphemous way imaginable. You were commanded to the floor, held there, stuck there. You were praying to your professor, your eyes peering up at her as she stared down at you - despite the silence, you felt her desire, flooding from every tingle of her skin against yours.
Her knees buckled ever so slightly, her grip on your hair tightening as she begged you to continue. Rich behaviour from the woman claiming your position as the pathetic, little slut.

"I love you."
She moaned, her cum coating your mouth. You swallowed every drop, continuing to circle your tongue despite her growing sensitivity. She retracted from you quickly, bending down and touching her lips to yours.
"You taste good, Miss Romanoff."
"Mm, I'm sure you taste better, darling."
She attempted to lift you, yet you pulled back some, wanting to wait her out a little longer.

"Be patient, Miss Romanoff. You're not gonna fuck me that easy."
A perplexed yet longing look plastered her face.
"You'll be the one who finishes tonight. If you want it to be me next, you'll need to see me again. That way I can make sure this isn't a one night stand."
She sighed, pouting before agreeing acceptance.
"This never would've been, Y/N, but if that's what you want."