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“Yes, what?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Good girl.” Oh fuck me, I’ll never survive if he calls me that.
The noise that rumbles from his chest is animalistic and sets my core on fire, dragging me back to the here and now.
“My name is Vance. But you can call me Sir if you like,Ophelia.”
“O-okay,” I squeak again, absolutely freaked out.
I’m going to have sex with my professor. I’ve been lusting after him for months and, if I admit it, falling for him for weeks. And now we’ve finally given in to this spark growing between us, finally given ourselves permission to set it on fire, andI can’t believe we’re doing this!
Without waiting for permission, I reach up and hook my arms around his neck, pulling him down to meet me. My lips caress his, gently but not tentatively. He lets me take the lead, find my rhythm, set the pace. But I can feel the control coiled in the tension of his shoulders and know that I don’t have long before he snaps and takes over. I remember the way his gaze darkened when I called him Sir. I know what’s coming.
He tears his lips from mine, his breathing heavy. “I’ll give you one last chance.”
“What?” I ask breathlessly.
“Tell me to stop.”
I can feel my desire curling inside me, waiting, aching, testing. I’m so close to having what I’ve craved for months, what I’ve needed for weeks. I know that I should tell him to stop. But the only thing I can think of is how much I need to feel him inside me.
The weight of our mutual lust is heavy between us, taut, ready to snap. I look up at him and whisper, “Don’t stop.”
His lips crush into mine and his hands grip my ass as he devours me.
Slow and sensual, and then hard and fast.
Maybe even a little rough.
I’m ready. I want it all.
I nudge my nose against his and break the kiss. “Do it. Show me.”
My challenge is met with a flash of teeth and a growl that is out of this world as he starts to grind against me. “So fucking ready,” he hisses.
“Yes,” I agree, pulling him down to me.
The kiss is hot and dirty and brutal. He consumes me. There is nothing soft or careful about the way he attacks my mouth, about the way he drags his teeth down my throat.
He’s going to leave bruises.
I rub myself up against him, wanting more. I feel him shift and grind against my core through the thin fabric of my dress. His hard length meets my soft wetness but never really connects.
I want to feel all of him, all of what he’s offering.
I need him to have mercy and just give it to me.
Because I’m pretty sure that he’s about to break me in two.
I tilt my hips, finding just the right angle, and suddenly he’s there. His hot, hard length pushes against my clit and through the cotton barrier. I’m so close to coming.
One of his hands releases my ass and slides down the back of my thigh, lifting my leg to allow him better access and I know in this moment that I can’t do this any longer. I don’t know where the hell his touch ends and mine begins.
He is all over me.
I am all over him.
