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He huffed a laugh. Before I had a chance to do anything else, Vincent hooked an arm around my waist and hoisted me onto the table. I knocked over my cup with a wayward elbow and tea spilled onto the floor. Neither of us paid any attention to it.
Vincent flicked his gaze up to me as he kissed his way down between my breasts, down my stomach. He hooked two fingers under the waistband of my pajamas and snapped the elastic.
“These have to come off.”
A giddy bubble of anticipation swelled in my stomach. Holy shit, this was really happening. I had dreamed about this, but I hadn’t planned for it.
As Vincent tugged my pants off, I clutched the edge of the table for balance. He hooked his strong fingers behind my knees and coaxed my legs apart, maintaining eye contact as he opened me wide for him.
I forgot how to breathe.
“Look at you,” he murmured. “Wet for me already.”
He dragged one finger with torturous slowness through my folds, circling my clit with just enough pressure that I trembled but I couldn’t come.
“I bet you fantasized about it all, didn’t you?” He continued. “My fingers, my tongue.” He paused and leaned in until his mouth was barely an inch away from mine. “My cock, stretching you out, filling you up.”
I clutched Vincent’s forearm, feeling lightheaded. He’d been so proper before, professional and appropriate. I liked seeing this filthy, dirty-talking side of him.
“Please,” I said. “I want you inside me.”
He clucked his tongue and his eyes darkened.
“Begging already? But I haven’t even tasted you yet.”
Vincent’s fingers indented the soft skin of my thighs as he lowered his head. He licked a wet stripe up my slit, closing his lips around my clit. When he sucked hard enough to make my legs twitch, I clamped a hand over my mouth to stifle my whimper.
White-hot pleasure jolted through me.
He licked and swirled and sucked, and I was helpless to do anything but feel all of it. I locked my fingers in his hair. The cool surface of the table on my bare ass was a stark contrast to the scorching heat of his tongue.
Vincent shifted closer, guiding my legs over his shoulder. He slid two fingers inside me, curling upward, while he kept his mouth on my clit. It was too much, too good.
I came with a shout. The only reason I didn’t fall off the table was the support of Vincent’s broad shoulders. He kept working his fingers deeper inside me until I squirmed and pushed at his head to stop.
“Vincent,” I gasped. “Please.”
He drew back and swiped my slick off his chin. His hair was tousled after I’d yanked on it in the heat of the moment.
“That’s more like it,” he said.
Panting as if I’d just sprinted a marathon, I sat up and tugged at Vincent’s belt. He moved closer, letting me fumbled with his buckle.
“What do you think you’re doing?” he asked with a faint tone of amusement.
“Damn pesky clothes are in the way,” I replied.
He brushed his knuckles against my cheek, sliding one finger under my chin. I unbuckled his belt and unzipped his fly. The strain of fabric at his crotch was so goddamn tempting.
“You’re not getting any cock, love.”
I froze and finally glanced up at him.
“What? Why not?”
An infuriating smirk curved Vincent’s lips upward as he braced his hands on the table, bracketing my hips.
“You just decided to change your major,” he said. “That’s a lot of upheaval. You need to study.”
