Page 33 of Sinful Professor

So many that we both lose count. And we also forget all about Sadie and the new trouble she could possibly cause. Because this moment right now with my goddess is everything. And every moment thereafter will be as well, no matter what happens.

Twenty-Two

The rest of Friday night is practically perfect. Brock drives us home and has me unwrapped again by the time we make it to the living room. And that’s when the orgasms start. First there, then the kitchen while we prepare dinner, then the dining room table while it’s cooking. We manage to keep our hands to ourselves while we eat, but as soon as we’re cleaned up, I’m in his lap at his desk chair, taking him nice and slow while he opens and reads the email about the contest.

“This second song is due in two weeks, and it has to be in a different style,” he pants as I lower myself onto him.

“Okay,” I breathe. “Is that difficult?”

“For some, yes,” he groans. “But I’ve already got something in mind.”

“Do tell,” I whisper.

“Would you rather feel it?”

“Always,” I mewl.

With that, he pats my ass for me to stand. Then he places my palms flat on his desk as he slowly sinks back into me from behind. While his first song was a mid-tempo ballad, his rhythm now is…different. Each push of his cock inside me like the pulse of the bass. And his hands massaging my breasts to the tune of something I can’t hear. But God, can I ever feel it.

“Brock,” I pant.

“Can you feel it, Sadie?”

“Yes,” I moan. “It’s so good.”

“Because of you,” he whispers.

Those three little words do the trick. My release claims me and brings Brock along for the delightful ride, too. When we’re spent, he carries me into the living room and lays me on the couch before cleaning himself up. I sigh and close my eyes. The next thing I know, he’s pulling a blanket over me.

“Just rest, okay?”

“You’re going to write?” I ask.

“I am,” he smiles. “Just enough so I can put things on paper.”

“Won’t you need me?”

“I always need you,” he says. “But I don’t want to push you, Sadie. I don’t want you to feel like I’m-”

“I don’t,” I say quickly. “And do you know why?”

He brushes his hand over my cheek and shakes his head.

“Why?” he asks on a whisper.

“Because when you need me as your inspiration, you take care of my needs, too,” I smile. “You don’t use me in any way.”

“Because your love is my inspiration,” he says.

“Our love,” I correct.

“You’re right,” he nods. “Our love.”

He bends his head for a kiss. Then rises and settles at his piano. I close my eyes again and listen when he starts to play. This one sounds more along the lines of an R&B or blues style. Whatever it is, it’s very sexy. I’m smiling as I let the sound consume me. Time passes without my knowledge and when I finally open my eyes again, I frown at what I see. His brow is furrowed as he seems to be playing the same bit of music over and over again. I rise in the next second, desperate to be what he needs. But when I see that he’s fully aroused, I take matters into my own hands.

Knowing that he probably won’t register my approach anyway, I sink to my knees and very carefully crawl underneath the piano. As quickly as I can, I rise up between his parted thighs and take his cock into my mouth. He curses and cups my head in his hands.

“Sadie,” he groans. “Fucking hell.”

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