Page 71 of Taming His Teacher

That’s what I’m thinking of, too, watching him. I’m jealous of his hand. I want to smack it away, hold it behind his back so I can be the one making him feel good. I drop to my knees and reach for him, but he stops me by gripping my shoulder, pushing me back on my heels. “Not yet. I’m not done. You have these perfect breasts, and the way you react when I play with your nipples…”

His head drops back and he fists his cock harder still. Such rough strokes. All the times I imagined this, this is so much better. And worse because I’m aching for him and he won’t let me touch. I whimper and he looks down. Smiles. He must know how hot I am for him, how wet, how desperate.

“I love how you’re so soft. It’s like an invitation.”

I’d scrawl calligraphy on the wall with my bar of soap if I thought it would get him to give in sooner. “Please, Zach.”

“Hands behind your back, naughty girl.”

He may as well have run a finger over my clit. His words have the same effect, a tightening, heaviness, and I weave my fingers together.

“Has anyone ever fucked your face, Erin?”

I squeak. God, could I be any less sexy? But I close my eyes and take a breath. “No, Zach.”

“Have you ever sucked cock before?”

“Yes, Zach.”

“Did they come in your mouth?”

I shake my head tightly.

“Did they come on you?”

Again, a shake of the head. It had been foreplay, not the main event. But this talking, the dirty words,thisis foreplay and it won’t take much to set me off. He’s slowed down his pace, loosened his grip and reaches out to stroke my cheek.

“I’m going to teach you to take my cock down your throat and then I’m going to come on your perfect tits. Would you like that?”

My clit is throbbing with want, so yes,yes. “Yes, Zach.”

“Open your pretty mouth.”

He directs his cock between my lips and I slick my tongue over the tip, tasting a drop of moisture that’s leaked out. He grunts as I lap at him, and I hold my hands tightly. “That’s nice, lamb. But you’re going to stop and let me tell you what to do.”

Though I want to keep licking, sucking—and having something in my mouth that I’m not supposed to do anything with is torture—I stop and look up, the head still between my lips, warm, smooth and heavy. “Good girl. Breathe through your nose and relax. I’m not going to hurt you, I promise. If you get scared, tap my leg and we’ll stop.”

I give a lick in response and he cradles the back of my head, his fingers twining with my hair, his palm at the nape of my neck. He draws me forward. I take more of him in my mouth, closing my eyes and trying to breathe. Using his other hand, he strokes my neck, tips my chin up and starts to edge into my throat. I choke and he eases back. “Relax, Erin. You’re doing so well. I’m so pleased with you.”

I blink my eyes open and it’s true. It’s written all over his face. “Try again.”

He rocks back into my throat and this time I’m ready, expecting the brief airlessness. It doesn’t scare me, though I still gag and my eyes water. After a few more strokes, he thumbs the few tears sliding down my cheeks. “You’re so pretty when you cry.”

Then he withdraws from my mouth, leaving me wanting. I stare hungrily as he fists his cock, pumps a few times before his release hits me in the chest. The density is different, thicker, than the spray of the shower pelting my back. It’s hotter somehow, and slides over my skin like gravity doesn’t affect it the same way. His other hand is planted on the tiles, fingers spread and tensed, and he hangs his head, spent. A low glow of pleasure spreads from my chest knowing I was the one who made him lose control.

When he comes back to himself, he studies me where I’m kneeling, hands clasped behind my back, evidence of his pleasure still visible on my chest and across my breasts. He grabs a washcloth, soaps it up and runs it over where he’s marked me. Though it washes away, it’s like the strands are still hot on my skin. When he’s finished he leans back against the tile. “You’ve had your show, now I’d like mine.”

I blink at him, uncertain, and wait for him to be more specific.

“I want you to get yourself off, lamb. Show me how you touch your pussy. Go on, I want to watch while you make yourself come.”

I release my hands from behind my back and slip one hand around my hip and he grins.

“What?” I’ve frozen in panic. Is he laughing at me? Am I doing this wrong?

“I was right. You do masturbate with your right hand.”

All the air in my body makes a break for it as blood rushes to my face. “You’ve thought about me…”

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