Page 21 of The Professor: Ep. 2
“Stunning,” I said, stepping toward her and capturing her mouth before she could reply.
Yes, I’d given her a command. However, now I wanted something else—her on the bed in just those boots.
I skimmed her lower lip with my teeth, my dick hard against her bare stomach. Goose bumps pebbled along her spine as I trailed my fingers up to the clasp of her bra. I unhooked it with a twist of my fingers, then slowly tugged the straps down her arms to reveal her beautiful breasts.
She arched into me, her neck tipping back in invitation as I kissed a path down the column of her throat to feast upon her naked skin. Using my palm on her ass, I lifted her, and she wrapped her legs around my waist to hold on while I took her nipple into my mouth and stepped up to the bed.
Her back hit the mattress with me on top of her, my teeth latched onto her fleshy tit, sucking and biting and nibbling my way across her sternum to her opposite breast. “So fucking perfect,” I told her, marking her as my own and smiling as she moaned in response.
Her dark hair spread in alluring waves across my black comforter, giving her the false appearance of belonging, like she was created just for this moment, to exist in my space, on my bed, beneath me, full lips parted in ecstasy.
Something about tonight felt final. And not in anendingsort of way, but the mark of a beginning. I couldn’t define it, my mind refusing to acknowledge what it meant. I just knew I had to have her like this, to keep her here and indulge all my needs. Right now. Right here. With her.
I ripped the thong from her hips, tossing it to the floor, and licked a wet path downward to the apex between her thighs. She fisted my hair, a mewl leaving her lips as I speared her with my tongue, tasting her to completion and reveling in her addictive flavor.
“Maddox,” she breathed, her back bowing off the bed.
I palmed her stomach, pushing her back down while I tortured her with my mouth, dominating her with my tongue, setting the pace, and demanding her pleasure.
“Oh… oh…” Her grip tightened in my hair, her thighs shaking on either side of my head. I didn’t release her, didn’t give her a moment to relax or come down, just shoved her over the edge into oblivion with my mouth against her clit. “Maddox!”
I shuddered as she screamed my name on repeat, the sounds ones I hadn’t heard from her before. It made this all feel like the first time, like we were learning each other’s wants and needs all over again. And fuck if that didn’t make me burn hotter for her.
My stomach coiled with need.
My veins rippled with fire.
My fucking balls tightened with a pending climax that shouldn’t even be possible.
She made me feel like an inexperienced boy, stealing all my control with just a few alluring moans. I wanted to throttle her. Fuck her. Mark her. Kiss her. All at once.
Kayla Mickelson was slaying me.
Rendering me useless.
Tying my hands behind my back and castrating me from the waist down, and yet it was my mouth on her pussy, my palms on her hips, my body on top of hers.
How was this even possible?
I gazed up at her, lost to the moment and the enthrallment she’d woven over my skin. Her beautiful lips were parted, her chest flush, her nipples hard. She lifted one leg to wrap around my back, her heel nudging my side.
Those boots, I thought, groaning. “I want you to ride me,” I said out loud. “With the boots on.”
“Yes, Professor,” she responded demurely, her long lashes fluttering as she blinked down at me. “Get a condom.”
An order I could accept.
An order I should have issued myself.
An order I decided to obey by slipping off the bed to retrieve my pants and the condom in my wallet. I’d have to go upstairs to grab more, as I didn’t keep any in my room.
Because women weren’t allowed in here.
Except for Kayla, the stunning enchantress who had knocked my world sideways.
Because she’s normal.
She’s real.
