Page 55 of Bad Professor

“Your husband left because he’s an idiot,” I announce firmly. “I thought we established that. Finish up.” I gesture to the fourth of the sandwich left on her plate.

“Why?” But she obediently picks it up.

“Because I want my dessert.”

And when she’s finished the grilled cheese, I pick her up and set her on the table so I can have my dessert.

28

Tilly

Dexter’s mouth…

I don’t know how he does that—how he wants to do that. Constantly.

“Why?” I ask him as he positions me on the table like I’m a place setting of priceless Royal Albert china.

He kisses my inner thigh, trailing his tongue along the soft skin teasingly. “Why not? It’s my favourite thing to do.”

“This?” At forty-five, I still don’t know what to call it. Oral sex has always sounded too clinical to me, but I can’t wrap my head around the slang.

Not that I’ve ever talked about it.

“This.” Dexter strokes a finger between my fold, making me shiver. “Making you come.”

“You like it?”

“I like it a lot.”

And then he bends his head, using everything in his arsenal to bring me to a quick and entirely satisfying climax.

He groaned when his tongue was deep inside me and the vibration…

I’m going to have to sanitize the table. And remembering the position he put me in—ass on the edge, with one foot hanging over and my other leg stretched up and open—will probably still make me blush five days later.

But after it’s over, I slide off the table and onto the chair. Onto Dexter seated in the chair.

We do it sitting in the chair. Me astride him, tiptoes barely touching the floor, so I have a hard time moving against him. It’s not the most comfortable, but the way Dexter arches up into me is like nothing I’ve ever felt before.

I’m proud that I instigated it. I want to show Dexter how much I want him.

How much I want this.

He makes me sit with him fully inside me as he uses his fingers to bring me so close and then he takes my own hand and makes me rub myself as he thrusts up into me until I come.

And then he bends me over the table, thrusting so hard that his legs slap against the back of mine.

I’m not sure how I’m going to sit at that table again.

I’ve also never been so grateful that Carlos let me take the dining room set because I’m not sure IKEA furniture would have been able to handle such activities.

Dexter stays the night.

I sleep curled up next to him, like Jordan cuddles her stuffed animal. When I wake up, my head tucked into his chest, I take a moment to enjoy it. His scent—a masculine smell of spice and sandalwood wraps around me. I’ve slept naked, a first in a very long time and I have no doubt I will smell like Dexter. He sleeps on his back with an arm under the arch of my hip and another curled around my breast.

Soft snores lift his chest.

When was the last time I woke like this? Or fell asleep with a man, arms and legs tangled, bare skin pressed against skin.

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