Page 11 of Forbidden Obsessions

“I know. I just didn’t know you saw how much I’ve been struggling lately,” I say, tears welling in my eyes. My friends try to lend support, and instead, my brain labels it as pity. During times like these, where my head is a mess, and I want to stay in bed to rot, I have a tendency to push people away, even if it’s when I need them the most.

“Come on, let’s get you fed.” Tomas sets me down gingerly on the pillows and blankets, draping one over me. The temperature in the mountains is about fifteen degrees cooler than the city. I’m thankful for my fleece and the steaming thermos of coffee he hands me.

“You should reconsider professions,” I jest.

“Yeah? I warned you I wasn’t a poet. I don’t have a way with words.” He hands me a wrapped sandwich. I eagerly unwrap it and bite into it, starving. “No. I mean, you’re fine with words.Great, actually,” I mumble through a bite. His gaze snaps to the blush violently spreading across my face.

“Oh really? How so?” he questions, with his fist tucked under his chin.

“Can you be serious for five seconds, Professor?”

“I believe you started this. Also, you only call me Professor when you want something.”

“That isn’t true.” I quickly bite my tongue because he is right. He barks a laugh.

“Thank God you don’t play poker. You can’t keep anything that passes through that brain of yours off of your face.” I roll my eyes, purely to spur him on.

Suddenly, he’s inches from me, his fist gently wrapped around my wild hair. “You know what I think, Miss Hamilton?” He’s so close, I can taste the hint of maple syrup on his lips.

“What’s that, Professor?” I ask, trying to control my breathing, his closeness invading my senses.

“I think your eye rolls and snarky remarks are on purpose. I think you want me to get rid of that bratty little attitude of yours. Do you have any ideas of how I should go about doing that?” Oh, fuck. His words. Those innocent words, with their filthy connotations. Don’t even get me started with the actually filthy, explicit ones.

He presses his lips against mine, forcing me to my back. Heat radiates from his muscular frame, covering me protectively, fully consuming me.

“You didn’t give me time to answer, Professor,” I whisper with a rasp. His mouth claims my neck in a series of languid kisses.

“I didn’t need your answer. We both know what you like and how you like it.” He unzips my jacket, pulling it off, with my shirt following suit. He pulls my bra under my breasts, hissing softly as he rolls a nipple into his mouth. The contrast of the biting chill and my unleashed lust brings goosebumps to my skin.

“And how exactly do I like it, Professor?” My fingers find those delicate curls I pined over when I got here. He pulls back, rising on his forearms to watch my expression. “You need me to quiet your brain. There are times you know you need to do your homework or study, but that pretty little brain comes up with something better to do. When I command you to do it, and you know how well I’ll reward you for it, you can accept it. Quite frankly, Miss Hamilton, you make a good little teacher’s pet.”

“You’ll never let me live that down, will you?” I ask, shaking my head.

“Never,” he confirms before sinking his teeth into my collarbone. Tomas peers up at me wistfully. He’s been looking at me strangely since last night. Right now, I’m too turned on, too needy to dissect it. He must know it, as he rocks back on his heels, baring my lower half in a flash.

“Was this all a ploy to get me naked?” I moan at the first swipe of his tongue on my sensitive clit.

“Isn’t it always?” he mutters against me, not bothering to come up for air. It doesn’t take much for the first crescendo of pleasure to barrel through me.

“Fuck me,” I whimper shamelessly.

He flips me over to straddle him. “No,youfuckme.Take what you need, Miss Hamilton.”

My core pulses with anticipation as I fumble with his belt buckle. He runs his cool palms along my heated skin. The contrast brings goosebumps to the exposed skin.

Sometimes, Tomas and I can’t wait. Those are the times I would do anything, regardless of how depraved or brazen it may be, to satisfy the need for him to be inside me. They’re fiery and fierce. Sometimes, they’re passionate and rough. But right now? I’d crawl into him right now if I could. This feels so intimate, so right, like we were made for each other.

Tomas looks up at me like I hung the goddamn moon. His heated gaze, the breathtaking scenery, the biting chill, and my confession, all converge to give me this fully unguarded moment. It’s rare for me to trust someone at all, let alone so deeply.

Times like these are when I know, if he hadn’t made it, if Nathan had succeeded and had taken him from me, I would’ve burned the fucking world down in revenge and fury. Times like these are when the asinine statements such asforever, like Tomas alluded to last night, become dangerous.

When our hips move in unison, the pair of us sharing the same overwhelming sense of completeness, that’s when I know there won’t be anyone else after Tomas. We’ll grow old together. Maybe I’ll have his babies. Maybe I won’t. We don’t have to decide that now. I know his relationship is strained with his parents, but we’ll have Sunday dinners with my parents. Thoughts like that scare the everloving hell out of me.

Rain clouds form overhead as Tomas spills deep within me. My eyes flit to the sky nervously, only to be met by a steady, frigid rain. Tomas curses, pulling the blankets on top of us. I laugh at the disgruntled scowl. When I feel him dripping between my drenched thighs, I laugh harder.

He gets up, pulling my pants back on, pausing when he reaches my sticky thighs. “Christ, that’s sexy. Do you know what watching my cum drip out of you does to me?” He groans before noticing my chattering teeth. He continues dressing me hastily.

He throws me over his shoulder, leaving the bulk of the picnic in the field. We reach the front door. Tomas holds a finger to his lips, motioning me to follow him to the master bedroom. I freeze at the sight of a naked Mia lying on top of Lex. Tomas grabs my hand, pulling me on. I’ll have to unpack that later. We tiptoe down the hallway, and as soon as we enter the room, he pinsme against the gray wall. “Turn around, Miss Hamilton. I’m not done with you yet,” he commands.

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