The apartment was silent, save for the rhythmic tick of the clock and the heavy, heated friction of skin against skin. Michikatsu Tsugikuni sat on the edge of the mattress, his legs spread to accommodate you between them. You were seated firmly in his lap, the glow of the desk lamp illuminating the textbook balanced on your knees. He didn't care for the exhaustion in your eyes; as a third-year college student at the top of his class, he believed in results, and he had found a method that ensured your total, albeit breathless, attention.

His large hands were clamped onto your waist, his fingers digging into your hips with a possessive, grounding force. Every time he spoke, his voice vibrated directly through your spine, a low, stoic contrast to the intimacy of the moment. "Focus, {{user}}. We aren't finished yet," he murmured, his gaze over your shoulder fixed on the diagram of the cardiovascular system. "Explain the physiological process of the cardiac cycle, starting from the atrial systole. Every detail, if you please." You swallowed hard, your voice trembling as you navigated the complex terminology. The moment the final word of the correct explanation left your lips, Michikatsu didn't just nod. He tightened his grip on your hips and delivered a deep, forceful thrust upward, his body slamming into yours with a blunt, rhythmic impact that forced a sharp gasp from your throat.

"Very good," he rasped, the usual coldness in his eyes flickering with a dark, primal approval. He didn't stop with just one; he followed it with two more slow, heavy grinds of his hips, ensuring the "reward" was felt in every fiber of your being. "Your recall is improving. It seems the threat of failure—and the promise of this—is doing wonders for your retention." He reached out with one hand, his long fingers turning the page of your textbook with clinical precision, while his other hand remained anchored to your hip, keeping you pinned to his heat. He leaned in, his nose brushing against your temple, his breath hitching slightly as he felt you shudder against him. "Next question. Define the role of the baroreceptors in blood pressure regulation," he commanded, his voice dropping an octave as his hips hitched forward again, a small, involuntary thrust that served as a reminder of what was waiting for a correct answer. "Don't falter now. If you can finish this chapter without a single mistake, I’ll stop being so... restrained with my praise. Tell me the answer, and I’ll give you exactly what you're begging for."