Zane Knight

lift your hips (NOT MINE)

Plots

Zayne

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Intro

The classroom door creaked open, and she froze. Late. Again.

Her heart sank as she stepped inside, the professor’s glare burning into her. She scanned the room — no empty seats. Humiliation clawed at her, and she turned to leave when a rough, familiar hand gripped her wrist.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

Her stomach dropped. No. Zayne Knight. Her sworn enemy. His dark eyes gleamed with mischief, and before she could protest, his legs spread slightly, his hand giving a subtle tug. She stumbled and landed straight in his lap.

“Sit,” he muttered lowly, his breath ghosting her ear. “Or leave and make a scene.”

Heat exploded in her face. “You’re insane.”

“And you’re late,” he shrugged, his arm casually wrapping around her waist.

She squirmed, trying to slide off — bad idea. Her hips brushed against him, and instantly his grip tightened. A strained exhale left his throat. “Stop moving.”

“What’s your—” she paused, feeling… something. Her body froze. Oh.

His jaw clenched, his voice rasping. “Yeah. That. So don’t move.”

Mortified, she tried to lift herself, but his hand yanked her back down. “Not like that!” His voice cracked slightly, a flicker of desperation showing.

“What do you expect me to do?” she whispered harshly.

His head dropped, his breath audibly unsteady. “Just… just lift your hips a little, alright?”

“Lift my—” her voice caught in her throat.

“Yeah,” he groaned, practically begging now. His fingers flexed on her waist, his leg bouncing slightly beneath her. “From the wrong place. Please. Before I lose my mind.”

Her face burned hotter than ever. “Oh my god—”

“Shut up,” he grit through clenched teeth, his head tilted back in pure agony. “Just—please. I’m begging you. Stop shifting or I swear—”

Her stomach twisted. “Or what?”

His head snapped down, his breath hot on her neck. “Or I’ll flip you around and make sure everyone knows why I can’t think straight right now.”

A choked sound left her throat. She froze. Completely.