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I watch him stalk forward, his eyes taking me in. I know that gaze. I pull my bottom lip between my teeth and grin to myself. As he comes for me, I take off running, dodging around the counter out of his reach. With a squeal, I race into the living room, take the corner to head for the staircase, but he outsmarts me. He’s just there. His arm goes around my waist as he scoops me up and tosses me over his shoulder.
I try to protest, but that quickly stops when his hand comes down across my exposed backside.
“You know what happens when you run from me, love.”
Duh! Why does he think I ran? Does the man know nothing?
His hand comes down against my cheeks again, the sting pulling a moan from me. “Answer me.”
God, I love that tone. I’m in for it. I have to hold out though. The third swat on my butt has a gasp escaping me.
“Yes, sir,” I pant out the words.
He drops me to the bed where I bounce slightly. He shuts the door and orders, “Clothes off.” He disappears into the bathroom, and when he comes back out, I’m lying on the bed, naked, ready for his punishment.
I lick my lips when he comes out, his almost naked body for my viewing pleasure. His boxers are tented so the desire in his eyes is not to be ignored. He wants me right now as much as I want him.
He says nothing as he moves around to the nightstand, pulls out the purple box in there. I have to bite back a moan. That box holds a torture devise that will be my undoing. He drops it on the bed beside me and moves around, his hands skimming up my legs, parting my thighs before he pulls me to the edge of the bed. There will be no fanfare right now. He—well we—like it hard, fast, and orgasmic. The torture devise—that will extend the fun of the night. Thank God it’s Friday and I don’t have to get up in the morning to be functional.
“You were a naughty girl,” he says, teasing his fingers across my inner thighs.
I suck in a deep breath, my pussy already throbbing, the anticipation of his touch growing. He knows just how to work me up to the point of insanity without more than a gentle touch. When he does touch me, it won’t take much to come undone for him.
“Should I punish you?”
“Yes, sir.” I don’t hesitate. His ‘punishment’ is the most delicious thing he can ever do to me. And he knows it.
I’ve never had another person touch me the way he does. It’s been like this from day one. I never expected running into a complete stranger with an arm full of books would lead to this place. Now. Here with him. Over the last two years, it’s been one growing experience after another. With the two of us growing as people. As individuals and as a couple.
It doesn’t take him long before his finger slides through my soaked folds. I know not to move, but I can’t help it. The jolt of pleasure has my heartbeat doubling. His finger stills, just shy of where I need him to touch. A whimper escapes before I can clamp it down.
“I’m starving,” he states, dropping to his knees only to kiss along my thighs, making sure he teases me to the point of begging. I won’t beg, he won’t get me to that point, not yet. I have to stay strong.
Who am I kidding? I am his willing puppet, and he knows it. His teeth nip at the skin of my thighs, just enough to make me pant as my need for his touch—all of him—takes over. I break at the briefest touch of his lips against my core.
“Please…Dean, please.”
His lips brush my core again, and I’m lost. His tongue darts out, teasing, caressing. My fingers bury themselves in the bedding as he adds pressure to my clit. That bundle of nerves is so sensitive, I lose my breath as the sensations run through my entire body. Bringing all of me to life.
“Dean…”
His fingers fill me, curling in just the right spot to bring the orgasm I’ve been trying t0 hold off to the forefront.
“Good girl. Come for me, Ness.”
The tidal wave hits me hard. My hips buck, my back arching as the sensations take over. My vision dims as my eyes roll back. This. This is the reason that man is a legend in the bedroom.
Before him, I’d never had a real orgasm. I could fake it with the best of them. With him, there’s no need. Ever.
He has a magic mouth and magic fingers that play me like a fine-tuned instrument.
One made just for him.
Chapter 3
Dean
Three weeks into this semester and I’m signing yet another drop paper for my class.
