Here to Misbehave | S.R.

Ch. 21 | The Homework

There it was. Allowing him to guide my hips to turn me around so that I was facing the table, I swung my leg over him to straddle his lap, lowering down onto him slowly.

And slow was the only word for it. He didn't allow me to move more than an inch every few seconds, his breath hitching each time until I was fully seated on him.

I could feel the blood rushing to my face, my mouth hung open with hungry breaths. When I tried to begin moving my hips, however, he halted me with a firm grip on my hips.

He clicked his tongue in my ear, digging his fingers into my sides as he held me there. "I don't think so. You're going to sit here and stay very still until I tell you to move."

"But—" I barely got a word in edgewise before he countered.

"You promised to behave. Now do your homework. I want to finish what I'm reading."

I huffed, struggling to move one more time and ultimately failing. "You can't be serious."

"Do your work and be patient and maybe I'll fuck you, or get up and get nothing. Those are your options."

I was certain that if I could see him, he would have that clever, devilish smirk he always wore when he was fucking with me. But I forced myself to keep my eyes straight ahead, leaning forward to grab my pencil from the table to hopefully finish my work quickly. If he wasn't going to check it, I could just bullshit it.

Of course, as soon as my pencil hit the page he shifted underneath me in a very purposeful way, forcing himself even deeper into me.

"Fuck!" I gasped, gripping my pencil tighter as I arched my back.

"Language."

With a deep breath, I forced a smile as I issued an extremely sarcastic apology.

"Sorry, daddy."

After that he was much kinder, allowing me to work without any more rude interruptions. Granted, my maximum capacity to function was still very low, and it took me at least ten minutes to finish three of the five questions.

It was hard enough having him inside of me, the warm throbbing of his cock like an extension of myself at this point, but once he finished the book, it was a completely different level of impossible. Because no sooner did the book hit the table than were both of his hands on me.

One hand remained rooted on my hip, halting any attempts at movement while the other crept up to fondle my chest. I took the new ministrations to be permission to move, but he quickly cut off that train of thought as he leaned his chest against my back.

"I didn't tell you to stop."

"Daddy—" I desperately whined, my hips moving with a mind of their own even as he tried to hold me down. Spencer was still dedicated to making it worse, moving my hair to one side and latching his mouth onto my neck.

"Keep going," he mumbled into the skin.

So I tried. I cannot stress enough how hard I tried, my mind functioning much like a toddler being told to focus on math while sitting in front of a fucking funfetti birthday cake.

"Wrong." Spencer whispered in my ear, his eyes apparently watching my botched attempts at my homework. With a general sound of displeasure, I erased my previous answer and changed it.

"Still wrong."

Breaking the scene for just a second, I hoarsely begged, "Please, Spencer."

He must have sensed my mounting frustration, because soon he was palming my breast much harder, his hand finally letting my hips begin to rock.

"Tell me, is it just because my dick is in you, or are you always this clueless?"