Page 18 of Better Than the Beach
Nolan’s eyes drag down my body like a rough caress and settle on the throbbing, wet ache between my thighs. He licks his lip and stalks toward me, his intentions clear, but I sit up quicky and put a hand on his chest, stopping him. When his eyes meet mine, I drag my hand down his chest and abs, then wrap my fingers around his erection. He’s hot and heavy, silken soft, and so damn sexy. He groans and sinks his fingers into my hair.
I push him back a few steps, then drop to my knees in front of him.
“I’ve been fantasizing about your mouth around my cock,” he rumbles.
I lick my lips instinctively and stroke him, darting my gaze between his hard cock and his lustful eyes. He groans when I stroke him again, and his hands in my hair tighten, tugging at the root. My scalp stings, and I love it.
“Do you want to take my cock down your throat, Cassandra?”
“Yes, Professor,” I breathe, then give a long lick up his shaft before sucking the head into my mouth.
He hums in pleasure. I can feel his fingertips pressing into my scalp, cradling me. I take him deep into my throat and he hisses, tugging at my hair again, giving me that bite of pain that I didn’t realize I was craving.
“Fuck, yes. This fucking mouth.” He tugs my hair, making me tilt my head back. “Look up at me, baby. Let me see those gorgeous eyes while you swallow my cock.”
I do as he says, and he sucks a deep breath in through clenched teeth, then presses me more firmly onto his erection. I gag around him and my eyes water. He lets off on his grip long enough to let me breathe before pushing my head back onto him until I gag again. I keep my eyes on him, even when tears trickle down my cheeks. I take him into my throat, swallow around him, gag on him, and I don’t take my eyes off his euphoric face.
His desire, his lust for me, knowing that I’m the reason he looks this way, is so fucking enthralling. My pussy throbs with the need for contact. I want to reach between my thighs and rub at my clit, want to slip my fingers inside and fingerfuck myself the way Nolan did in the hot tub. But I keep both of my hands on Nolan, moving from the base of his cock to his thighs, to the firm globes of his ass cheeks. Squeezing. Rubbing. Pulling him closer to my face so I can swallow more of him.
He brings his hand to my cheek, caresses my flushed skin and swipes at a tear.
“So beautiful,” he rasps. “I wonder how this pretty face would look wearing my cum.”
I whimper and press my thighs harder together. Oh my god, this man is dirty.
“I could paint your lips with it.” He growls as he thrusts into my mouth. “Fuck, I could paint your breasts with it. You would look so gorgeous covered in me, Cassandra.”
Nolan Montrose is every sexy professor fantasy I’ve ever had, and surprisingly, now that I think of it, I’ve had a few. I swallow around his thick erection, then lick and suck and bob up and down until he’s groaning and pulling himself away from me.
“Condom,” he says, and I point to the top drawer of the dresser. I climb onto the bed as he grabs the box of condoms, rips it open, and brings a strip of them back to the bed.
“Lie back,” he commands, so I do. He runs his hands roughly down my thighs and then parts them, exposing me fully. The gust of cold air makes me gasp and he smirks.
“I’m going to devour this pretty pussy, Cassandra.” He slips a finger inside me, and I gasp and wriggle, needing more of him. “I’m going fuck you with my tongue, going to lick and suck your clit until you’re soaking wet and coming on my face, and then I’m going to fuck you with my cock. Do you want that?”
“God, yes,” I practically shout, and he presses down on my clit with his thumb.
“Yes, who?” he grinds out as his thumb rubs torturous circles over my clit.
“Yes, Professor,” I cry out. “Fuck me, please, Professor.”
Nolan drops between my thighs and brings me to orgasm twice with his talented mouth and fingers before finally rising up, sheathing himself with the condom, then lining himself up with my entrance. He kisses my lips and I hum, tasting myself on him. Tasting his desire for me. He rubs the head of his erection along my slit, taking care to press on my clit with each pass, until I’m writhing with impatience and need.
“Fuck me, Nolan, please,” I cry against his mouth then suck on his bottom lip. “I want it. I want you.”
“Cassandra, I am going to own this pussy. Do you understand?” His voice, so controlled, so smooth and dark, like fine leather or expensive bourbon, sends a rush over my body. “I’m going to own it.”
“Please,” I plead, and the leash on his restraint snaps.
Nolan guides one hand between us and rubs lightly on my already sensitive clit as he pushes his cock into me steadily. I can feel every inch stretching me, molding me around him. It doesn’t hurt, not really, but it’s uncomfortable at first. Unfamiliar. When he’s seated fully, he pauses his hips while still tending to my clit with his thick fingers. He allows me time to adjust and lets out a deep groan.
“You have no idea how good you feel wrapped around my cock,” he says in my ear, then he kisses my neck, my jaw, my lips, and presses his forehead to mine. “Let me know when I can move,” he says, and his voice is strained.
Instead of answering, I tilt my hips, the movement making us both moan. God, this is amazing. I rock some more, gliding him out a little, then back in.
“Fuck, baby,” he chokes, and I move my hips faster. I’m drunk on the idea that I can make him feel good, dizzy with pleasure and power. When I clench around him, he growls and takes control.
Nolan rises up on his arms, his strained biceps caging me in, and quickly thrusts in and out. Long strokes, pulling almost all the way out and then plunging back in. It feels so good that I’m a whimpering, moaning, mewling mess, and I don’t even care. When he speeds up, I cry out, and when he rubs my clit with his thumb, I almost scream.
