Page 20 of The Professor: Ep. 2
I never stood exposed in such a way without also making the woman vulnerable in kind. Kneeling didn’t count, not where Kayla was concerned, anyway. She still wore all her clothes, even her panties, and her eyes held a wild form of control as she stared up at me.
Completely at odds with what I desired tonight.
And yet, fucking perfect, too.
She smiled, her full, fuckable lips curling into temptation, making me want to force her to carry on, to lick my shaft and take me deep into her addictive mouth.
However, I waited, wanting to prolong the temptation.
I’d tasted her, but not the other way around.
Everything had been quick between us, silence a requirement we both understood. Tonight, the game changed. We could do whatever we wanted here in the sanctuary of my room—a sanctuary no other woman had ever entered.
I usually took them to a hotel or a guest room upstairs.
Kayla was different.
My private little toy. My secret indulgence. The one female I shouldn’t have but did. On her knees. Grinning wickedly with dark brown eyes as her tongue traced the crown of my cock.
Fuck, I marveled, losing myself to that simplistic touch.
My grip in her hair tightened, urging her to give me more. Takemore.
She refused me at first, taking her own sweet time and leaving me to sweat. I growled in response, even while I loved the taunt of her lips ghosting across my sensitive skin. Then she parted around me, her mouth a heavenly haven for my shaft.
Deep. So fucking deep.
Then shallow.
Then deep again.
My knees shook, my thighs flexing to keep me upright before her, my fingers straining to hold on to her as she mastered me with her sensual tongue.
“Kayla,” I breathed, her name a prayer between us. “Fuck, don’t stop.”
She hummed in agreement, the vibration a sinful caress that had me groaning in response. So she did it again, taunting me with that delectably skilled mouth, her strokes purposeful and knowing.
Whoever taught her how to give head deserved a fucking award.
Why the hell had I waited so long to experience this? And how the hell would I survive without experiencing it again?
We needed more than a few more days.
Hell, we might as well take the semester at this point.
The things I could teach her…
Like how to add a little pain with her wet kiss. Just the subtle scrape of teeth. She avoided that now, cushioning her suction by withholding those sharper points.Mmm. Still perfect, but could be even more intense.
I’d show her later.
Coax her into a whole lesson on oral, then return the favor between her own thighs.
But for now, I tugged her away a little forcefully, not interested in coming down her throat but inside her. “Get on the bed,” I told her. “Strip for me.”
Because I wanted to fuck her hard, hear her scream, and swallow her moans while I drove her over the edge repeatedly.
I stroked myself as she rose gracefully to her feet, her hand disappearing behind her to unzip her dress. The fabric pooled at her hips, displaying her black bra beneath. Then she pushed the material down over her hips, leaving her clad in lace and boots.
