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I grab us two sodas and walk back to the sofa. I put them down, set up notepads and our English homework on the table before sitting down next to him. This is awkward. Too awkward for me to focus on homework.
“I thought you said you didn’t want to waste your time on me,” I drawl with sarcasm.
I expect him to mock me or do something to humiliate me, but instead he just shrugs his shoulders and gives me a small smile. “Maybe I regret saying that.”
That is probably as close as Jake will get to an apology.
My heart hammers in my chest, desperately knocking on my ribs. “You do?”
“Let’s get to work, Angel.” He ignores my need for reassurance in such a soft voice I feel compelled to drop it.
We get started on our homework, reading the poems we’ve been given and looking at the questions together. It takes only about ten minutes before I feel Jake shift next to me.
I’m answering the first question about the context of the first poem when I feel his hand on my thigh. I startle and look up at him. He’s not looking back, just reading the second poem, his eyes following the words in a boring dance.
“What are you doing?” I whisper. I don’t know why, there’s no one else in this house, but knowing I was secretly wishing for his hand on me makes me feel like he read my thoughts.
“I’m reading,” he replies casually without lifting his gaze.
“I meant–” the tightening of his grip makes me clamp my mouth shut.
“Just keep working, Angel.”
It’s easy to say for him, he doesn’t have a firm hand just a few inches away from his sensitive area.
I’m answering the second question when his hand moves higher, his pinky finger is a light touch against my clit, but it instantly sets me on fire.
“Jake,” I sigh. I want to make it an annoyed sigh, but it comes out needy.
He doesn’t respond, just keeps rubbing his hand up and down my thigh, not touching me there anymore. His eyes stay on the poem and his fingers tap on my leg like playing his favorite song on a grand piano.
I’m on question four when he reaches my pussy again, this time not moving away. He adjusts his hand and I jump in surprise when the tips of his fingers purposely rub against my core.
“Fuck homework. I want to feel you, Angel.” His raspy, lust filled voice reaches my ear like music notes, it enchants me and lulls me into submission. As usual, all I now care about is what Jake orders.
“I…” I try to formulate a coherent sentence but his fingers rubbing against me turn my thoughts into nothingness.
“May I?” he asks as he puts his fingertips just under the waistband of my leggings. He’s not even holding the poem anymore, he’s put it to the side and is now fully turned toward me, his enthralling gaze captivating my whole being.
Since when does Jake care if he can or cannot do something?
I nod anyway, because of course he can. He can take me, he can play with me. He can fuck me and break my heart as many times as he desires, my body and my heart will always welcome him back. Only my brain fights, but my brain has no power when Jake is nearby.
Before he puts his hand below my leggings, he grabs my left leg, dragging it onto the sofa and positioning himself between my thighs. He doesn’t just slide his hand below my clothes, he fully grips my leggings and panties and pulls them down my legs, as far as they can go, just below my knees.
“We shouldn’t,” I breathe out. “We’ve got homework to do…and…and we’re supposed to–”
“I want to apologize,” he cuts me off.
“Apologize?” I pant as he runs his knuckles between my folds.
“For hurting you, last time I was here.” He lowers himself and starts kissing my neck, leaving light kisses and moving down to my collarbone. He pushes my crop top above my breasts and leaves a trail with his tongue between my boobs. When he takes a nipple in his mouth, my hands shoot to his hair, entangling themselves as a warning to never leave this position.
He moves to the other one, pulling, nibbling, licking. My breathing is so ragged, butterflies in my stomach dancing to the rhythm of his tongue on me.
I can feel the tightness in my lower stomach begging to snap, my insides clenching in need for him. I’m so close to orgasm…is it…is it even possible? To orgasm from Jake feasting on my breasts? It feels just short of attainable and when I let out a long, almost frustrated moan, and start rubbing myself against him, he leaves my chest to carry his trail south. He leaves kisses on my stomach, my hips.
I scream when he suddenly bites the skin of my right hip, he soothes me by licking before going back to sucking. I feel blood rushing to the area, and when I try to move left, his hand grips my left hip, keeping me in place. I don’t know how long he spends there, but long enough to have me desperately wanting his mouth to be somewhere else.
