Page 101 of Love, Academically
He thrust in, one long, hard thrust that had him buried in her up to his hilt.
“I’m not going to last very long,” he panted, bracing one arm above her head as he lifted her leg higher, pressing himself deeper.
“Neither am I,” she said, her eyes fluttering closed and head falling back against the white tiles of the shower. Rhys angled her so the shower water fell between them, hitting her sensitive nipples, running down the valley of her chest, collecting where they were joined, splashing where he drove deeper into her.
She cried out as she came, her nails digging into his shoulders, standing leg trembling so hard he was vaguely worried they’d slip and fall. Two more thrusts and he was with her, the veins standing out in his neck as he spilled inside her.
Lila’s leg slipped from where it was hooked over his arm and she fell against him, boneless and spent.
“Fuck, Lila. That was—” He swallowed, catching his breath. “That was amazing.”
“Mmm.” Her voice vibrated against his chest and he looked down, running his hands over her skin.
They stayed like that for a while, breath slowing, arms around each other while the water cascaded over their skin.
“Lila,” he whispered, eventually. “We’ve got to go to work.”
“Two more minutes,” she said, her breath minty sweet across his lips.
Rhys was late for work. Well, notlatelate, but late for him. And he didn’t mind one little bit.
Lila
The way Rhys played her body with his fingers, his tongue wasnothing short of magnificent. She had no idea that sex could be like that and that her orgasms could literally have her seeing stars. He was a maestro and she was his instrument .
It didn’t seem to be one-sided. Rhys shuddered when she nipped at his nipple, moaned when she scratched her nails over his scalp, couldn’t wait to be inside her in any way possible; his fingers, his dick, her pussy, her mouth.
“Lila? Did you hear me?” Sue popped her little erotic daydream bubble for the fourth time that week. “What is with you at the moment?”
“Sorry Sue,” Lila said, snapping a smile into place. “World of my own.”
“I was just saying that the PhD students need enhanced access to the Moodle so they can set work for the undergrads? Can you sort it please?”
“Yes, of course,” Lila noted it down on the pink heart-shaped pad next to her.
Sue turned to leave.
“Oh Sue, while I’ve got you,” Lila said, standing. “I sent you my application for the Lexicography Masters course. I just need you to forward it on with your approval.”
“I’ll have to check to see if I received it,” she said, dismissively.
“I had a delivered receipt when I sent it last week. I’ll resend it again now for you.” Lila bent down and tapped on her keyboard to forward the email. “It’s due tomorrow by five o’clock. If you could have a look at that, I’d be super appreciative.”
“Hmm, yes,” Sue said, glancing towards the door before raising her eyebrows to Lila. “PhD access to Moodle.”
“On it,” Lila said, with her most professional, reassuring smile.
Sue swept out of the room, her chintzy perfume trailing in her wake. Sue had been less than excited about this course for her. It was like she couldn’t quite work out why Lila would want to take the course.Thatwas why she hadn’t told anyone what shewanted to do. The judgment, the assumption that she couldn’t do it. Or why she would want to do it in the first place.
People didn’t outright put her down, but it was the head tilt and the sympathetic smile that said ‘good for you, giving it a go, don’t worry if it’s too hard’. Or Jason’s ‘be careful you don’t overstretch yourself,you know how you get.’
This course wasn’t about proving anything to anyone. It was abouther. What she wanted. And she wanted this course. So there.
She’d finalised the flier for next week’s student/lecturer mixer by adding a couple more star bursts, and sent to the whole of the History Department. It was good for the students to see the lecturers as actual people, not just teachers. It was also good for the lecturers to see the students as not just numbers, a chore to deal with so that they could do their research. A mix of terrible sangria, crisps and popcorn in bowls, fun party hats, a chance for people to mingle early so the students could go out after and the lecturers were in time to go home for tea.
Lila was bent over the bottom drawer of the filing cabinet in the far corner, trying to work out what kind of filing system her predecessor had used for the module information (answer: a rubbish filing system) when a phone pinged in her office, but it wasn’t hers. She looked over her shoulder at Rhys, leaning against her office doorframe.
“Oh, hi,” she said, straightening up and turning to face him. How had he snuck in without her noticing?
