Studying with Zayne when he starts to get distracted by how you look laying on the couch. You're not wearing anything special, just a comfortable tank top and some loose shorts. But then again, it's never taken much for stoic Zayne to turn feral for you.
You're reading off the next flash card of medical terms, waiting for him to define it. You don't understand much of what it all means, but you try to help anyways. When several seconds pass you look over at him from under the card.
He's crawling toward you, eyes half lidded with lust, licking his lips. "Let's take a break," he's suggesting as he gets to your legs, running hands up them, making you shiver.
"We just took one," you try to remain stalwart in the face of this onslaught.
His hands are sliding up, up, up. His fingers twist into the very edge of your shorts.
"Zayne!" you're saying, almost like a warning, but he's already beginning to nuzzle into you. You're hearts beating in the way that only he can do. Your body is coming alive. You know he sees how paper thin your resolve is.
"Let's not stop studying, then. Every right answer and I get to explore," his hand trails up your shorts, fingers alighting at the grooves where your hips and legs meet.
Before long he's straddling your legs on his shoulders, barechested and cheeks flushed. Your hold on the flash cards in tenuous as you read out the next word:
He stills, his cock throbbing inside you. You're agreement was he can only keep going if he gets the word right.
"Harboring a prophage as hereditary material," he answers quickly before he's back to pumping furiously, trying to get you distracted enough to put the cards down.
