Mai.

“Oh, so he’s an academic type? I see. Smart is sexy.”

You subtly ball your hand into a fist under the table, trying your best to keep smiling.

“In that case, will you help me get his number?” she presses, eyes light up with hopeful.

“I have to ask him first,” you say flatly, silently begging Caleb to not fall for your classmate—the prettiest, sexiest, and practically top-of-the-class kind of girl.

Her smile only widens. “I’ll wait for good news tomorrow, then. See you, future sister-in-law,” she says with a playful wink.

That last part is enough to drag a frown onto your face as you stomp your way out of class, pouting the whole way.

It was 2 p.m. when Caleb stood beside your school gate, his presence alone drawing the attention of many female students who couldn’t take their eyes off him. He responded with only a polite smile, his gaze continuously scanning the crowd for someone familiar—the one he had been waiting for.

Then, finally, he saw you.

Your eyes immediately locked onto his as you walked toward him, a pout on your lips and sadness written all over your face. Without hesitation, you buried yourself in his embrace, and he gently ran his fingers through your hair.

"Hey, what’s with the long face, Pips? Aren’t you supposed to be happy to see me after school?" Caleb teased, though concern flickered in his voice.

You nuzzled deeper into his chest and mumbled, "I’m okay. I’m just tired.”

Caleb didn’t buy it. “You are lying.”

You sigh. “I hate math. I’m awful at it." The lie came smoothly through your lips.

"Mm? So, this is about failing at math? Did you have a math quiz today?" Caleb chuckled softly. "Don’t worry, Pip-squeak. You’ve always got your Caleb here."

He gently tilted your chin up, cupping your face with a reassuring smile.

"Let’s go home and wash up first, yeah? I made your favorite meal, and tonight, I’ll tutor you in math. You don’t need anyone else—just me."

You nodded. "That’ll do… but can we stop and get ice cream first?"

Caleb’s lips curved into a smirk. "Anything for you, Pip-squeak. But you only get to eat it after dinner. Okay?" And you nod.

After washing up, you change into your favorite pink sleepwear, it’s a light pink satin piece that feels cool and soft against your skin. Simple, with thin straps and a clean cut, it doesn’t do too much—but that’s exactly why you like it. It fits just right, not too tight, not too loose. It’s the kind of dress that make you feel comfortable, a little more put together, even when you are just getting ready to rest. The fabric slipping gently over your shoulders and exposing a hint of your collarbone. 

As you walk into the dining room, you see Caleb with his back to you, busy setting the dishes on the table.

"Do you need help?" you ask.

Hearing your voice, Caleb turns around—only to freeze in place. His eyes widen for a split second before he quickly looks away, his ears turning red.

"Ugh, no. It's fine, Pip-squeak. Everything’s ready—you can just sit." He clears his throat, hurrying into the kitchen and returning with two plates in his hands.

Taking a seat across from him, you notice how he avoids making eye contact.

"Are you okay? Your face is red. Do you have a fever?" You almost get up to check, but he quickly shakes his head.

"No, no. I'm fine. It’s just hot—I was standing over the stove, you know? No need to worry," he says, waving you off.

A short silence follows before Caleb suddenly blurts out, "You're wearing that sleep dress."

You smile. "It's comfortable. I need to feel cozy before drowning in math problems tonight." You take a bite of your food.

Caleb's expression is unreadable, but he shakes his head slightly before joining you in eating. The dinner goes smoothly, though their grandmother has informed them that she’ll be home late.

“Caleb?”

“Yes, Pip-squeak?”

“Are you interested in a romantic relationship?”

Caleb chokes on his food, eyes widening. You panic and quickly hand him a glass of water.

“What did you say?” he coughs, his gaze now locked onto yours. His heart hammers in his chest, and there’s a faint flush rising to his cheeks.

You stumble over your words before managing to explain, “One of my classmates is interested in you.” You pause, avoiding his eyes. “She asked if you're open to a romantic relationship right now… and asked for your number too.”

“Oh…”

There’s a subtle disappointment in his voice, or maybe you’re imagining things—but your chest tightens anyway.

Then Caleb lets out a low chuckle. “I’m not interested in pursuing a romantic relationship right now, Pip-squeak.”

“Does that mean… you will be later?”

“No,” he replies, shaking his head. “I don’t have the energy to care about other people when I already have Grandma and you. You do realize how high-maintenance you are, right?” he adds teasingly.

Your cheeks flush, both from embarrassment and the way your heart flips. You glare lightly but can’t hide the growing smile on your lips. “Does that mean you won’t get a girlfriend?”

He shakes his head again. “No.”

You take another bite, eyes cast down, but there’s a soft smile growing on your face. “Okay.”

A moment passes in silence.

“How about you?” he asks.

“What?”

“Will you have a boyfriend?”

You glance at him for a second before answering without hesitation. “No.”

“Why?”

You shrug. “Because I already have you.”

Neither of you says anything after that. The air feels heavier but still gentle. As if the both of you just made a silent confession neither of you are brave enough to say aloud.

So you eat in quiet.

After finishing the meal, you insist on helping Caleb with the dishes, though he is surprised with your willingness.

“You sure?” he asks, raising a brow.

“I just want to help,” you reply. “Besides, I’m mature now. I don’t want to be a burden.”

Caleb chuckles at that. “Mature, huh?”

“I will be 19 in a few months!”

“Alright, alright, big girl. You can have all the dishes.”

He lets you take over washing while he gathers the plates from the table. As he walks into the kitchen, he catches sight of you from behind, the way your dress hugs your figure. His throat goes dry. He quickly looks away, exhaling sharply.

Shit.

Shaking his head for what feels like the fourth time that day, he steps closer.

"You’re so slow," you grumble, rinsing a plate.

Caleb chuckles. "It's called being careful, you know?" He places the last plate under the sink, and in that moment, your hands brush. Your skin is so soft. He wonders how it would feel—

"Nyenyenye, you're just slow. Admit it." You mock him with a playful grin.

"Whatever helps you sleep at night, Pip-squeak." He ruffles your hair before turning away. "Finish up, then come to my room. I'll set up the study materials."

Caleb arranges his desk, making sure you’ll have everything you need. Minutes later, you enter, holding an ice cream in your hand before casually plopping down on his bed.

Caleb rolls his eyes. "Not there, Pip-squeak. You’ll stain my sheets."

You pout. "But there's only one chair. You can sit there—I’ll stay here."

Caleb crosses his arms. "You’re acting like you own my bed."

"Well, what's yours is mine, remember? You said so when we were kids."

He scoffs. "You're getting smarter with words, huh?"

You shrug. "You can have the chair."

Shaking his head, he sits down. "Finish your ice cream first. No distractions during the math lesson."

You nod, eating quickly. Once done, you walk over and—without any hesitation—settle yourself on his lap.

Caleb stiffens. "W-What—What are you doing?"

"There’s only one chair," you say innocently.

"I—I'll get another one from your room."

"No need, it's heavy. What’s the problem? I used to sit on your lap all the time when we were kids."

Caleb exhales sharply, gripping his own fist. Lying would be pointless anyway, part of him enjoys this, he loves feeling you so close.

"...Fine."

You shift slightly to get comfortable, but he suddenly grabs your wrist.

"D-Don't move," he says, voice tight.

You smirk silently. "Are you okay?" you ask, feigning innocence.

His grip tightens as his face turns redder.

"Don’t. Move," he repeats.

You turn around fo face him, your eyes lock onto his, the tension thick between you.

"You got something on your lips," he mutters.

"Oh? Can you wipe it for me?"

Caleb sighs before gently wiping your upper lip with his fingers. Without thinking, you lean in and lick his fingertip.

His breath hitches. His eyes darken, filled with something unreadable.

"Stop it," he murmurs. "Don't do this to me."

"Do what, Caleb?"

"Just—" He swallows hard before quickly turning you toward the desk. "Let's start with the first question. What’s confusing you?"

You blink, amused at his sudden shift. "I don't know which formula to use. It’s too hard." You’re answering randomly, knowing no one had a math quiz in school today.

He nods behind you, beginning to explain in the simplest way possible. Thirty minutes pass, and with only a little help, you start solving the problems on your own—which never truly becomes a trouble.

"Oh my gosh, so that’s how it works!" You grin excitedly. "I should've come to you earlier, before the quiz!" You turn and throw your arms around Caleb, hugging him tightly.

His body tenses. Your chest presses against his, and he can feel your warmth. Slowly—hesitantly—he wraps his arms around you, too.

"I knew I could rely on you," you whisper.

You pull back slightly, your gaze meeting his.

"Thank you, my Caleb." Your fingers brush his cheek.

His breath turns uneven. "L-Let's continue," he mumbles.

You don’t move. And he notices your gaze turns intense.

"Pip-squeak, please," he pleads. "This is torture."

"Yeah?"

"Please..."

"Please what, Caleb? Don’t you want to touch me?" You tilt your head, watching him squirm.

His fingers tighten around your waist. His gaze darkens.

"Be careful of what you say," he warns.

You shift slightly. "What if I don’t?"

“Stop this.”

“Your eyes can’t lie, you know? You really think I haven’t noticed how you’ve been staring at me all night?”

Caleb exhales sharply, his jaw tightening before he grabs your chin, tilting your face up so your eyes lock with his.

“I said stop.” His voice is low, strained, almost a warning.

“But I don’t want to.” Your fingers trail slowly from his chest down to his stomach, deliberately teasing.

He catches your hand in his, gripping it firmly as his gaze darkens with something unreadable—restraint, frustration, want.

“Stop before I lose it,” he growls, his voice trembling at the edge of control.

“Then lose it,” you whisper.

And then—without warning—his lips crash against yours.

A small gasp escapes you before you melt into the kiss. Caleb holds you firmly, his other hand slipping behind your head to deepen it. When he finally pulls away, his voice is low, almost threatening.

"Be careful before teasing me, Pip-squeak."

Then, he kisses you again.

You moaned and grip his hair tightly. 

“Caleb.. Please.”

Caleb murmured, lips continuing to trail down your neck and down to your chest. His finger slowly pulls the thin straps of your dress, allowing it to expose your tits. 

“You are so sweet.” He said before he leaves mark on top of your chest.

Your breath grows heavier, chest rising and falling as an unfamiliar heat pools between your thighs.

"Caleb, please," you whimper, voice trembling with need. "Touch me there, please, please."

Upon hearing that, it was like a jolt of lightning struck him—he snapped his head up and looked at you with his jaw tensed ever so slightly, like he was holding back a wave of emotion.

“Pip-squeak, we can’t do this.”

“Why?” You demanded.

He brushed your hair. “Let’s just continue our study, yeah?”

“So, you would rather if I did it with someone else?” You challenge him, ignoring his question like he did.

He pulls you close and hugs you tight. “Please don’t say that.”

“So you are okay if I kiss another boy and let him touch me—AH!” You can’t even finish your sentence when you feel the stinging sensation after Caleb left you another bite mark on your neck.

Seconds later, you feel how Caleb pulls back and crashes his lips on yours, he doesn’t give you any time to catch a breath when he explores your mouth.

You whimper, fingers gripping his hair as he deepens the kiss. “Please... Caleb.”

Caleb pulls back slightly, his dark eyes scanning your flushed face with amusement. A smirk tugs at his lips as he casually licks the remnants of both your saliva from his mouth.

"Please what, Pip-squeak?" His voice is a low, teasing drawl. "Can you elaborate?"

You look at him—helpless, pleading, desperate. "Please. You know what I want."

"No, I don’t."

Your chest rises and falls rapidly, frustration bubbling inside you. "Please… I need you. Inside me."

“Please… say you won’t regret this,” Caleb murmurs, his voice low, almost pleading—like a final thread of restraint holding him back.

“I won’t,” you whisper, eyes locked with his. “Never.”

Caleb’s lips brush against your neck again, the warmth of his breath sending shivers down your spine. His hand slowly trails beneath your dress, fingertips grazing your inner thigh, making you twitch in anticipation.

"Here?" he murmurs.

You shake your head, almost frantically. "No, no. Please, Caleb. I need you there. Please."

"Where?" His voice drips with amusement, reveling in the way you fall apart beneath his touch.

"Haa… ha… Please..."

"Say it."

"There, there!" you cry out, eyes squeezing shut in desperation. "Inside my pussy, please, please, I need to feel you."

Caleb chuckles, low and sinful, as his fingers finally reach their destination. He circles your swollen pussy in slow, deliberate strokes.

"Here?" His voice is a whisper against your skin. "You're so wet for me..."

"Yes, yes, for you. Please, Caleb."

His touch suddenly stills. His dark gaze flickers with something possessive, something dangerous. "I don’t remember ever teaching you this," he muses, voice edged with curiosity. "Who taught you, huh? Be honest, any guy ever touched you like this before?"

A desperate moan escapes your lips at the sudden loss of contact. Your body aches for him, throbbing, needing. You shake your head wildly, eyes wide with panic. "No, no! No one’s ever touched me here, Caleb. You’re the first—I only want you."

"Yeah?" His voice drops an octave, rough and unreadable.

"Yes, yes," you nod frantically, fingers gripping his arms as if trying to tether yourself to reality. "I only watched or read when my friends talked about it. I never… I never touched anyone."

"Is that so?"

You swallow hard, your frustration mounting. "Yes, so please, Caleb. I only want you."

A smirk plays on his lips before he slides two fingers inside you, stretching you slightly. A gasp rips from your throat, your head falling backward as pleasure overtakes you.

"Like this?"

"Yes... yes... ugh, please, Caleb."

"What do you want me to do?" he asks, his voice silky smooth yet laced with command.

"I want you to make me feel good, Caleb," you breathe out, voice barely above a whisper.

"You want that? How much?"

"More than anything."

That’s all he needs to hear. His fingers begin moving, slow yet precise, curling inside you as his lips capture yours, devouring you whole. 

Your moans fill the room—needy, breathless, uncontrolled. Your dress is in complete disarray. His lips slowly trail down, your dress falls into your waist, Caleb sucks your tits and squeezes the other one, giving you an overwhelming sensation you’ve never felt before. 

A louder moan escapes you.

"Ugh, this feels so good. Caleb, ah..."

Caleb smiles against your skin, his tongue circling your hardened tits before he sucks, hard. Your back arches in response, hands flying to grip his hair, fingers tangling in his soft strands.

And then—his fingers slow down, teasing, denying. Your body twitches, frustration building. You were so close.

His dark eyes meet yours, gleaming with amusement. "You were close, weren’t you?"

"Caleb," you whine, voice bordering on a sob.

"You remember our agenda for tonight, right?" he whispers, lips brushing the shell of your ear. "You have to study, not moan my name like a needy little thing."

Before you can protest, he gently turns you around, positioning you in front of the desk again.

"Do questions fifteen to seventeen," he orders, his tone commanding yet filled with sinful promise. "If you get them right, I’ll let you come. Hard."

"No, no," you shake your head, voice trembling with desperation. "Please, not now, Caleb. I beg you."

"No, baby," he coos mockingly, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. "Do the questions. Do it for me, hmm?"

Your breath is ragged, hands trembling as you pick up your pen. Caleb’s fingers remain inside you, moving at an agonizingly slow pace—just enough to keep you on edge but never enough to satisfy. The other one keeps brushing your tits as his lips are now kissing your back neck.

Still, you try to focus.

Yet you fail. Miserably.

"Caleb, at least let me concentrate," you whimper, body squirming under his touch.

"But you wanted me to please you," he reminds you, feigning innocence.

You gulp, knowing deep down you’ve already lost this battle.

Moans and cries spill from your lips as Caleb plays your body like an instrument, drawing pleasure from every inch of you. Your fingers dig into your pen, knuckles turning white, trying to hold on to some sense of focus, even as your body trembles beneath his touch. He gives you no pause, no chance to recover, overwhelming every sense at once.

Tears brim at the corners of your eyes, blurring the words in your book as you desperately try to read through the haze of desire.

“You’re so sweet, my little sunny apple,” Caleb whispers, lips curling against your shoulder before he sucks gently, leaving behind a mark you’ll wear like a secret.

It takes almost thirty minutes—thirty agonizing minutes—to solve the questions while Caleb continues his sweet torment. His lips trace along your shoulder, his teeth nipping at your skin, his fingers teasing and exploring, never once relenting.

"I—I’m done," you finally stammer out, voice barely coherent.

"My good girl, very smart," Caleb praises, skimming your answers with a pleased hum. His fingers start moving again—faster, more precise—his pace sending you into a spiral.

Your head tilts back, body trembling. "Yes, yes, yes. Just like that."

"Smart girls get rewards," he whispers, his lips ghosting over your skin as his movements quicken.

Your moans grow louder, uncontrolled, desperate. The heat inside you builds and builds until you can no longer hold it back.

"I—I’m close," you pant, fingers gripping Caleb’s knee.

"Come for me, baby."

And with that, the pleasure crashes over you like a tidal wave, leaving you trembling, breathless, and undone.

Caleb watches you with a satisfied smirk, his free hand gently cupping your flushed cheek. "Feel good?"

You nod weakly, still struggling to catch your breath.

Turning to face him, you watch as he brings his glistening fingers to his lips, slipping them into his mouth. Your eyes widen.

"You taste so good," he murmurs, eyes locked onto yours.

"Caleb!" you gasp, face burning. "That’s… that’s dirty!"

"Nothing that comes from you is dirty, baby," he chuckles, leaning in to kiss you, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.

You moan against his lips, fingers tracing the lines of his chest before slipping into his pants. He groans at your touch, his grip on you tightening.

But just as you think he’ll give in, he suddenly grabs your wrist and lifts you into his arms with ease.

"No, baby," he murmurs against your lips, smirking as he watches the frustration cloud your expression. "We’re not going any further than this. You still have to study."

"I can study and moan your name at the same time," you tease, grinning as you squeeze his hardened length.

Caleb lets out a sharp breath. "Shit."

And then, without warning, he tosses you onto the bed.

"I never taught you this, Pip-squeak," Caleb murmurs, his lips trailing soft kisses down your neck, leaving warmth in their wake.

"Caleb..."

"What do you truly want, hm?"

"I want you, Caleb."

He smirks. "You already have me, baby."

"Please... take off your clothes." You reach for his shirt, fingers trembling with impatience.

Caleb exhales a quiet chuckle. "Grandma could be home anytime soon."

"She won’t know."

His eyes darken with amusement. "You’re naughty." Still, he tugs off his shirt, revealing the toned muscles beneath, his body hovering over yours.

His expression shifts into something softer yet intense. "Are you sure you want this?"

You nod, pulling him closer. "I’ve always wanted this with you."

Caleb pants slightly, his breath warm against your skin. He presses a kiss to your forehead, then down to your eyes, nose, and finally, your lips—capturing them in a slow, lingering kiss, deepening as his hand cradles your face.

"Please, Caleb... put it in already. I want to feel you."

Caleb chuckles, his lips brushing against yours. "Not so fast, baby. You distracted yourself from learning math. Shouldn’t I test you before rewarding you?"

Your stomach drops. "You want me to do math questions again?"

"No." His smirk grows as he teases you, his tip barely pressing against your entrance, sending a shiver up your spine. "I want you to explain what I just taught you. Can you do that for me, hm?"

You gulp.

You shouldn’t have challenged him.

You shouldn’t have distracted him when he was kind enough to tutor you.

But do you regret it?

Not at all.

"Explain it to me, baby," he urges, voice low and husky.

Your breath is ragged as you struggle to recall everything he taught you, but Caleb isn’t making it easy. His lips roam lower, his fingers dancing over your sensitive spots, and his length brushes teasingly against your entrance, making you gasp.

“C’mon, baby,” Caleb murmurs, his voice low and teasing. “You want your reward, right? Be a good girl for me.”

His lips begin a slow, sinful journey—pressing soft kisses from your breast, trailing down your stomach, until he finally settles between your legs. A shaky moan escapes you as he licks a stripe up your folds, his tongue skillfully circling your clit before dipping into your entrance.

You grip his hair tightly, gasping as your hips instinctively buck into his face. The pleasure builds quickly, maddeningly, making it almost impossible to focus.

“Fuck, Caleb!” you curse breathlessly, eyes fluttering shut as his mouth moves with practiced precision.

“Ssshh... good girls don’t curse,” he chides with a smug grin, his voice gravelly against your skin. His tongue thrusts deeper, savoring every part of you, and just when you feel the coil of pleasure about to snap—he stops.

Your head falls back in frustration, a broken whimper falling from your lips. “I hate you, Caleb.” You breathe, gripping the sheets so tightly your knuckles go white.

He chuckles darkly. “C’mon, baby. You want to come? Then finish your words.”

Tears sting your eyes—not from sadness, but from sheer, overwhelming frustration. You grind against his mouth, desperate and trembling.

“A-And lastly…” you pant. “Derivatives tell us how fast something is changing. S-So, if a function describes position, its derivative gives… velocity. If you take the derivative of velocity… hah… you get acceleration.”

Caleb watches you like you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, pride shimmering in his darkened gaze. “Good girl,” he whispers against your lips. “Now… are you ready to claim your reward?”

“Yes… yes, yes, please! Caleb—”

He hovers above you, his weight pressing down just enough to feel comforting, protective. His thumb brushes your cheek tenderly as he searches your eyes. “This might hurt,” he murmurs. “But you trust me, right?”

You nod without hesitation, eyes wide and honest. “I trust you, Caleb.”

A soft smile graces his lips as he positions himself in front of your entrance, slowly pushes inside, sealing your gasp with a deep, loving kiss.

A moan escapes you as he fills you inch by inch, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. “Ooh… you’re so—so big,” you whimper, overwhelmed by the stretch and the sensation of being completely full.

“Is it in?” you ask, voice trembling.

He kisses your forehead with reverence and presses in deeper. “Patience, baby. We’re only halfway.”

You let out a loud gasp. Holy shit.

You tighten your legs around him, pulling him closer, your body arching to meet his.

“Did I hurt you?” he asks when finally all the way in, worry clouding his voice.

“N-No… but I need a moment.” You breathe, your voice small.

He nods and leans in to press a soft kiss against your cheek, staying perfectly still as you try to adjust around him. Caleb gently brushes your hair away from your face, his fingertips tender as they move through your strands, quietly grounding you, silently reassuring you.

“Take your time, baby,” he murmurs, his voice low and careful, like he’s afraid to break the moment.

The intimacy of it nearly shatters you. It’s too tender, too overwhelming, how much he cares, how much he’s holding back for your sake. You feel your chest tighten, tears pricking your eyes, not from pain but from how deeply you feel seen, touched, and loved.

Finally, you whisper, “You can move now.”

He starts slow, his thrusts deep and deliberate, as if trying to memorize the feel of you. His groans are low and raw, vibrating against your skin.

"Oh—oh, that feels so good," you whimper, hands trembling on his back. "Caleb, f-faster."

“Not yet,” he murmurs, kissing your jaw, your collarbone, your shoulder. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You’re not,” you plead. “Please… let me feel everything—AH!”

He growls softly and finally picks up the pace, his hips slamming into you with controlled power. Your body arches off the bed as the pressure builds, every nerve ending lit on fire.

"Right there! Please, Caleb—" you sob, tears streaking down your cheeks, overwhelmed by the pleasure.

His mouth finds your breast again, tongue flicking over your nipple while his hands grip your ass tighter, pulling you into each thrust. The room echoes with the sound of your bodies colliding, your breathy moans, and his grunts of pleasure.

Caleb pulls back slightly before thrusting even deeper, forcing a high-pitched moan from your throat as stars dance behind your eyes.

He groans, thrusting harder, chasing the high with you. "Baby, I’m close. Can I come inside?"

"Y-Yes! Please, I’m close too!"

"Come for me, baby."

With one final thrust, you unravel beneath him, pleasure crashing over you in overwhelming waves. Caleb follows moments later, groaning your name as he buries himself deep inside. You wrap your arms around him, pulling him as close as possible, you don’t want a single drop of him to go to waste.

“My good girl, taking me so well.”

He doesn’t pull away immediately. Instead, he presses a tender kiss to your forehead, his body still intertwined with yours as you both catch your breath.

Then—the sound of the front door opening.

Caleb tenses, but before he can move, you grab his arm.

"I locked your room’s door," you mumble, voice hazy with exhaustion.

He exhales a quiet laugh. "You’re impossible."

Another door creaks open and closes. Grandma must already home and choose to have gone straight to her room.

Caleb gently shifts you so you're lying on top of him, and you immediately nuzzle into his chest, seeking the warmth and comfort of his embrace.

"I want to sleep here," you whisper, snuggling closer.

Caleb shakes his head, amused. "You’re so spoiled today."

You yawn, pressing your face against his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing.

"Pip-squeak, at least let me clean you."

"You can do it later. I just want to hug you, now."

Caleb sighs in playful exasperation but tightens his arms around you anyway. "I hope that little head of yours still remembers everything I taught you tonight."

A sleepy smirk tugs at your lips. "You know what? I’m good at multitasking, you know. That includes learning math... and having you inside me. Nothing can distract me."

“When will you have another math quiz?” he asked, and you tilted your head to face him.

“Actually… I never had a math quiz.”

Caleb narrowed his eyes. “You’ve been lying this whole time?”

You giggle, fingers lazily tracing the lines on his bare chest. “I thought you knew,” you pause, then glance up at him with a mischievous grin. “Caleb?”

“Yes, baby?”

“Are you tired yet? Can we do it again?”

Caleb lets out a groan. “You’re gonna be the death of me, Pip-squeak.”

But they did it again anyway with Caleb’s hand pressed over your mouth to keep you from getting too loud.

And this time, there were no distractions from math.

Ⓒ 2025 by charmaizne

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