Page 13 of Tempting Teacher

His fingers move to my pants and start working the button. “I can’t very well eat you out with your clothes on.” Before I can object, his fingers slide into the waistband pushing them down my legs, the material dropping to the floor. He takes my hand and walks backward. “Step out.”

I comply because objecting at this point would seem silly, and also, not what I want. I stop when he does, my heart galloping in my chest. The grip he has on my hand releases to trail up the length of my arm, the hairs rising in the wake of his touch. He skims all the way up under my chin, lifting it until I’m looking up at him.

“Are you scared?”

It’s the first considerate thing he’s asked me since he’s arrived. I blink, my eyes scanning the angle of his chin, his sculpted cheekbones, his red lips, parted slightly as he waits for me to reply. I finally lift my eyes to his and shake my head. “I want to kiss you.”

His eyes close for several seconds, his nostrils flaring before they reopen. “Next time.”

“But-“ I press my body flush to his as I protest, stopping when I feel his fingers lift the hem of my shirt, peeling it off my body, separating us a few inches.

He leans toward me, the heat of his breath against my ear when he speaks. “Lesson three is about foreplay.” His hands grip my waist to turn my body as he walks me backward, stopping when my legs hit the couch. “I’m going to show you how a man should make you feel. To make sure you’re ready for him. To make sure the experience isn’t just about him.” His lips trail against the rim of my ear, his tongue skimming the lobe, a small sigh slipping from me. “To make you feel like nothing else in the world exists except you.”

“Okay.” I murmur, my head rolling back as he drags his tongue down my throat, his arms wrapping around my back as he lowers me onto the couch. He removes my bra in one swift motion, my legs parting as he positions himself over me. I feel the heat of his mouth on my nipple a second before his tongue laves over the peak, my back arching into him.

“Does that feel good, little one?” He drags his tongue over my other nipple, this time closing his mouth around it before flicking the hard bud with the tip of his tongue.

I mewl out a response which I think resembles a yes, my fingers weaving into his soft locks as I press him into my chest.

“I know, I know.” He coos as he alternates between nipping then sucking each of my breasts, my core throbbing between my legs. I try to ease the ache by pushing myself against his thigh, groaning in frustration when he grips a hand around my waist to hold it down.

“Don’t worry, I’m going to take care of that for you.” He assures me, his hand gliding lower to cup my center with his palm. His fingers continue rubbing in a circular motion as he sucks a raised peak between his lips, his teeth latching onto the tip, biting it, a gush of heat flaring between my legs. I groan, my fingernails clawing into his shirt as I try to get enough traction to shove my center forcefully into his hand.

He chuckles, the vibration from his chest an inch from mine. “You want more my little vixen?”

“Yes.” I drag my hands down to the hem of his shirt to try to lift it. “Take this off.” He lifts his mouth off my breast to look at me. “Please.” He stares at me a second, but then rises to his knees, yanking the shirt over his head before dropping it to the floor.

Holy Hell. His body is like a chiseled masterpiece. It literally looks like one of the statues I’ve seen at the museum. The gorgeous white ones that resemble the gods. I loop a finger into the waist of his pants to tug him closer. I feather my fingers over his torso feeling every bump and ridge, the urge to kiss him growing as I trail lower. I lick my lips, peering up at his and surge forward until I feel his mouth against mine. He lets me kiss him, but only for a second before he tears his mouth away, his eyes flashing to mine.

Before I can say a word, he slides down my body, his hands gripping the seam of my panties as he does, peeling them off me. Without warning, his head is between my legs, his tongue dragging in one long swipe over my slit. My hands fling to his head, my fingers clutching onto his hair when he blows a hot breath over the streak he just trailed, then he licks me again.

“Oh my God.” I drawl out, realizing this is so much better than my fingers. His tongue dives deeper between my folds finding my clit. He flicks it back and forth, blowing on it, my back rising off the couch when he slides a finger inside and begins pumping it in and out. His tongue moves faster, harder over my clit, my head thrashing back and forth as I feel my body react, my muscles starting to tighten. Xander slides a second finger inside and thrusts deeper, his tongue never slowing as I feel my hips raise of the couch.

“Xander.” I chant as every molecule centers at the apex of my body, detonating when he draws my clit between his lips and sucks. I hear a scream that I recognize as my own, and then break into a thousand tiny pieces that scatter across the universe, igniting into sparks of dust as I come back to earth. I can’t open my eyes, even when I feel him rise off my body, soft spasms still shuddering through me. Panted breaths puff from between my lips as muscles relax one by one, and still, I can’t lift my lids. I hear Xander moving around me, sighing when he drapes something soft over my body, but I’m still reeling from the sensations I just experienced and feel paralyzed.

It’s not until I hear the elevator doors slide shut with a bang that I’m ripped back to reality and bolt upright. I listen for a moment then call out.

“Xander?” I stand, wrapping a blanket around my body and walk down the hall calling his name again. As I reach the elevator, I hear it descending and realize he left. Just like that. He left.

Chapter Seven

~Xander~

I glower at her text for the tenth time. She sent it yesterday, just a few minutes after I left, and like the bastard I am, I haven’t responded. It’s a simple question. “Where did you go?” Unfortunately, it doesn’t have a simple answer.

The more time I spend with her, the deeper I can feel her digging into me. With her innocence, her beauty, her trust; all stirring something inside of me. My heart, which I thought had turned cold and dark long ago, seems to flicker to life whenever I’m around her. I had to leave before she opened her eyes because I knew, without a doubt, if she had asked me to stay, I would have. And that would not only be bad for her, it would be bad for me.

She has no idea what kind of appetite I have, the damage I could do to her, and I won’t do that to her. I sit for a long time pondering my next move, surprising even myself when I grab my phone and call her. She picks up on the second ring.

“Hello?”

“Hi.” I wait to see if she’s going to say anything, but when she doesn’t, I start. “I’m sorry about leaving.”

“Is that what I should expect from someone?” She whispers.

“No. Never.” I rake a hand through my unruly locks. “Generally, my customers, my clients, prefer it when I disappear after. Having me around is a reminder of whatever sin they’ve just committed.” I blow out a breath. “I forgot that you weren’t like my regular clients though. You’re in a box all your own.”

“Oh.” She’s quiet a moment, then speaks. “Now what?”

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