Page 20 of Ruthless Temptation
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he growls, trailing his hand over my cheek.
I lean into his touch, surprised at the strange happiness blooming inside me, almost at odds with the choking feeling of desire filling my chest.
He dips his head to capture my lips. This time the kiss is hot and hungry, filled with the promise of everything he wants to do to me—everything Iwilllet him do to me. His fingers burn a trail down my neck to my breasts.
Professor Holmes breaks our kiss to worship my nipples with his teeth and tongue—teasing and sucking while his fingersmassage my breasts in tandem. I arch into his touch, a strangled moan falling from my lips.
“I want to hear your cries.” He tightens his grip on my breast, taking the taut peaks between his teeth. The pain chases the pleasure through my veins, and I yelp. “Don’t hold back for me, little one.”
“What if someone hears?” I ask, my voice foreign to my ears.
Professor Holmes laughs against my skin, the vibration thrumming through me. The sound is intoxicating, and I find myself falling deeper into the silky grip of pleasure. “Then they’ll know who you belong to.”
My eyes widen, but I don’t have time to process what he’s said, for his hand dips between my folds. My flesh is hot and needy, and the simple touch of his fingers has me grinding into his hand and desperate for more. When he slips two fingers inside me, I can’t stop from moaning.
I grip his wrists, urging him on.
That was a mistake. He stops moving all together.
I meet his gaze—his glare is harsh.
“No,” he says simply, and I let go of his hand. “The quicker you learn this, the sooner you’ll get to orgasm.” My mouth goes dry.Yes, that’s exactly what I want. “Be patient.”
Patience.
The one thing I’ve never had much of. Granted, I’ve never been in a situation quite like this before—I’ve always been the type to take what I needed from whoever I was having sex with. To put aside that part of myself and submit entirely to Professor Holmes would be torturous. But in the wicked gleam of his eyes is an assurance, and I know he is unlike any of the people I’ve ever slept with.
“Yes, sir,” I say, swallowing thickly.
He grins, and he rewards me by dipping his head between my legs.
The satisfying friction overwhelms me—he works his fingers inside me, while his lips and tongue tease my clit and sensitive flesh. The rhythm is hypnotizing, and I find myself being pulled under by the waves of pleasure. Every part of his face on me feels like it was made for my erotic pleasure—even the scruff of his beard against me sends scintillating jolts of electricity through my body.
The knot of arousal low in my belly tightens, filling my body with a dull ache that tells me I’m close to release. My whole body is numb and aflame all at once. I moan and writhe beneath him. He keeps me in place with a hand on my hip.
I root my hands in his hair, desperate for more of whatever he will give me.
The orgasm hits me hard and fast, pitching me over the precipice of release like a bullet shot from a rifle. It’s an explosion—hot and cold at the same time, like being pulled under by a cold, crashing wave that makes your lungs burn. Goosebumps prickle every inch of me, and I float away for a few seconds.
Slowly, the sensation starts to come back to my body. I thought the release would make me feel better, but if anything, it’s only made me needy for more—for the one thing I know only he can give me.
Professor Holmes is prone over me. He grips my hips, pulling me to the edge of the table. I’m naked and nestled between his body and the table, looking up at him. It feels surreal, this moment. I glisten on his lips, and there’s a thin layer of sweat on his forehead.
Without thinking, I wrap my arms around his shoulders and press his lips to mine. I lick myself from him, surprised at the musky taste. When we break free, Professor Holmes’ eyes are hooded; he’s lost in the haze of arousal just as much as I am. He stares at me like he’s trying to commit me to his memory.
“Are you still on birth control?” We’re so close that I feel his lips moving against mine.
I nod, silently thankful that he’s brought this up. I didn’t know how to.
“I’m clean,” I say, hoping that he’ll take my hint.
“I know,” Professor Holmes says.
I quirk an eyebrow. “You do?”
“You got an STD test done at the campus clinic yesterday, didn’t you?” he says, and a blush heats my cheeks.
“How did you?—”
