Page 25 of Damaged Professor

“Sorry, sorry—” I gasp, panting. It’s impossible to catch my breath, my chest heaving with each ragged gasp that I manage to get in.

“You’re fine,” says Dylan. “I like seeing what you’re feeling.”

He pulls away, but only long enough to catch hold of my wrists and guide them back to his hair. I’m still more gentle than before when I run my fingers through it, one hand lightly settling on the back of his head.

Dylan flashes me a smile through red, swollen lips, and then he ducks his head between my spread thighs again, tongue flashing out and running over my slit, top to bottom, before pressing inside. It’s not the same stretch as fingers or dick, but it’s good in its own way. Slick and hot and wet. It’s easy to get lost in it again, the sensation of it, and the fact that this isn’t some stranger between my legs.

It’s Dylan.

The guy that I’ve fallen head over heels for. And yes, it’s pretty impossible to deny that I’m totally over the top when it comes to Dylan.

I’ve completely fallen for him. And I want more of—everything that I can get when it comes to him. More of the sex, more of the dinners, more getting to look at him and feeling as though someone is actually seeing me, as though someone is actually trying to get to know me.

The emotional connection twists with the raw, unbridled passion of the situation; with the fact that I’ve been thinking about getting into bed with Dylan all day, and the fact that all those extra years he’s got on me have done wonders for his bedroom skills. He has figured out how a woman really wants to be treated.

My nails scrape over his skin. Teeth brush over the inside of my thigh when Dylan pulls away for a breath of air, but then he’s right back to eating me out, sloppy wet sounds that threaten to drown out my own desperate keening.

“Dylan,” I say, panting, pushing at his head as I try to warn him that I’m coming close to the edge. He pulls back and tilts his head up. Looking pleased with himself he finds his way back to my little bundle of swollen nerves. He guides his tongue over and around me, again and again, until I burst at the seams, my legs practically giving out underneath me. He looks up at me with those mesmerizing dark brown eyes satisfied with his work. His lower lip is swollen. There’s spit on his chin. He wipes it off with the back of his hand and then hauls himself up onto his feet.

When we kiss, I can taste myself on his tongue. He reaches around me, tugging open one of the drawers and pulling out a condom. With his free hand, he tugs me away from the dresser and over to the bed, spinning me around and giving me a gentle shove backwards.

I hit the mattress with, spreading my legs in a way that’s lewd and fully owned. “Gimme.”

The condom is passed over. I rip off the foil, taking the rubber in one hand and rolling it onto his cock. He’s big, and it makes my mouth water as I look at it.

This is exactly what I was hoping for when I approached him in the classroom. I wanted any chance to be close to him again. And now here we are, together again. But it’s different.

We didn’t know each other when we slept together the last time. It wasn’t anything that went deeper than skin. But this time around, it does. It goes further than that. The pleasure weaves through my bones, my spine, pulling me tighter together. It makes my skin feel hotter than ever before, makes me want him closer than I’ve ever had someone.

As Dylan watches me stare at his cock, I can tell neither of us can wait for long. Soon he’s pushing me back, further onto the bed, and crowding me against the mattress.

He closes me in, and I love it. Love the way that it feels when he finally presses into me, stretching me out and open. Fingers and tongue have nothing on the sheer size of Dylan. Or the way that he rocks into me halfway, pulls out, and rolls in again.

Groaning, I loop my arms around his neck, pulling him closer to me. One leg hitches around the back of his thigh. “Just like that, just like that—”

The words quickly cut off when he starts fucking me in earnest. Each buck forward knocks the air from my lungs. The headboard thunders against the wall.

And just like he said before, this time… This time, we can fully take our time.

Chapter fourteen

Dylan

Layinginbed,wrappedin each other's arms, feels as good as I knew it would. We are both ready to drift to sleep when Abby gets up and makes her way to the bathroom. A moment later I can hear the water running in the tub. It’s almost one in the morning and Abby has drawn a bath in the large garden tub. I’m tempted to join her, but I’ve decided to step down into the kitchen to put on a pot of coffee instead. It’s way too late for coffee but—sometimes, you just have to give in to those cravings.

This… Didn’t actually clear my head at all.

If anything, I’m fairly certain that I’m even more taken with Abby than I had been before. There’s something about the young woman that has just clawed into my brain.

The coffee pot bubbles and burbles. I pour myself a cup, drinking most of it before making a second one to take back to the bedroom with me. I sit it on the end of the dresser, so Abby can have it when she gets out.

“You doing good in there?” I call in to her.

Abby laughs. “Are you fishing for an invitation?”

“I might be,” I tell her.

Abby says, “What did you say last time? That it was your house, so you don’t need an invitation?” A laugh, and a splash of water. “I think that’s probably still the same.”

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