Page 21 of Ms. Mosley

“Why not?” I then traced a line from her bottom lip down to the center of her neck and across the curve of her breast, which sat up beautifully in her dress. Shit was certainly out of line, but I couldn’t help myself. Like a moth to a flame, I was drawn to her.

“Stop,” she said, gently pulling my hand away. But it wasn’t a gesture of discomfort; it was a sign of her desire, mingled with a fear of crossing boundaries. If she had truly been angry with my actions, I’m sure she would have struck me and exited the vehicle long before now.

“You know why.”

“Is you being my professor the only reason you won’t?”

She shifted, twirling a piece of her hair. “There are others.”

“But is that the biggest reason? ‘Cause I’m positive the other shit can be worked out.”

Silence hung heavily between us.

“Keep it real with me. It’s just us here. No need to put on a front. I promise I won’t tell a soul.” I pushed.

“It’s not you telling that frightens me, Prosper. It’s the thought of you discovering the truth and fighting even harder for me that gives me pause.”

“What’s the truth?” I hooked her chin. I was finally getting somewhere…wewere getting somewhere.

“Your presence makes me weak.”

“The feeling is mutual, baby.”

She shut her eyes. “And because of that, I can’t have you fighting harder because I just might cave.”

“Answer my question.”

“Yes,” she opened her eyes, her voice barely above a whisper as if admitting it brought her a sense of embarrassment.“You being my student is the biggest reason I can’t do this. So, can I have my keys so I can go on about my way?”

I released her as my gaze wandered into the darkness beyond the window. I was plotting my next move.

“Prosper, can I have my keys now?” She repeated.

Loving the way my name rolled off her lips, I played nice, lifting the keys into the air.

Ms. Mosley eyed them, took a deep breath, and reached over my lap. That’s when I seized the moment.She was right.Now that I knew the truth, I would fight harder with the hope that she’d finally fuckin’ break.

My lips crashed against hers, and her body melted into mine like she had already anticipated my move. I started with a gentle peck. When she didn’t pull away, it deepened into something more, me capturing her bottom lip and hungrily sucking on that muthafucka. The soft whimper that escaped her made my dick hard as a rock again. However, for a quick second, I felt her body stiffen on me as if she were having second thoughts.

“Relax, baby. Don’t paint me to be that kind of nigga.” I begged her to let go of her reservations, to embrace the chemistry that was so potent between us.

“What do you mean?”

“Paint me as if I’m taking shit from you. I want you to open up to me. Show me you want me too, ‘cause I know you do. I can sense it.”

“I do want you.” She let slip.

“Thenshowme.”

She surrendered with a nod, parting her lips. The tip of my tongue sought hers and I licked repeatedly before fully claiming it.

“Mmmmmmm,” she moaned, and in that instant, her body was mine again.

Not giving a fuck about these stitches, I placed one hand on her ass, squeezing while the other slid down the straps of her dress. As the fabric fell away, her breasts revealed themselves, and I couldn't help but whistle at the sight.

Ms. Mosley was likely a C-cup, and her large brown nipples contrasted beautifully against her lighter skin, bringing out the dawg in me. Leaning down, I latched onto one while my hand slid up her dress. My fingers hooked the center of her panties, exploring until I eased two into her.

“Ahhhh,” she gasped, arching her back and rocking against my hand.

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