Page 46 of Damaged Professor

Her body is warm against my own, slick, wet, a steady feeling to lean against. She doesn’t push back against me. Instead, she just collapses on my front, her own arms curling up between the two of us, our bare, wet skin sliding together.

We stand like that for the longest time, before Abby tilts her head back and kisses the corner of my jaw and then the side of my neck. I tilt my head without thinking about it, baring more skin to her, and she’s quick to press her lips against it, and her tongue a moment later. She licks, sucks, and nips at the side of my throat, and I drag my fingers through her hair as she does it.

The sucking isn’t strong enough to leave a mark. Our original agreement meant that we couldn’t do that. At least, I couldn’t do that. I need to retain a professional appearance in my classes, and we didn’t want anyone to look at us coming in with hickeys on the same day and put two and two together.

But right now, all I want to do is kiss her and claim her, and leave her so marked up, so there’s no doubt to anyone that she’s mine. That’s what I want—for everyone else to know.

It’s tempting, but it’s not the right moment for that. I tangle one hand into her wet hair instead, tugging it backwards so she’s looking at me. Our lips press together with a crushing sort of wet slide. I press her against the wall, steadying her. Her body shakes again but this time it’s different. I open her mouth, savoring every bit of it. My hands move up and down her back as she glues her body to mine.

I hesitate for a second. Maybe she’s not really in the mood. Maybe I should let her rest—

She doesn’t give me a chance to change my mind. Her hands grab hold of my cock, going back and forth in a steady pace. Then she slides it right between her legs so that it rubs her pussy. The movement continues, teasing me just enough. I could have taken my time—in any other circumstance, I really would have done so.

But she watches me, stunned, as I pull away and take a step back. I sit on the bench and motion her to follow. She strokes my jaw. With a quick kiss, she turns her back to me and sits down, taking me all in. I feel her weight drop on my legs before she opens hers to steady herself. I wrap one arm over her belly and use the other to grope her breasts.

She moves steadily, like before. I lower my hand and massage her clit. Her breath gets heavier, and her hips move faster, as I caress her.

“Dylan,” she whispers, jerking her head back so that she can kiss me. She comes seconds later but doesn’t stop moving until I do too.

We stay like that for a while, her in my lap, both unwilling to move. My hands shake as I finally help her up. I move us directly under the shower, letting the hot water wash off all the pain and tiredness. She looks up at me, satisfied, in control, at last.

My hands stay on her, but I don’t kiss her. I look at her, taking in the crease of her brow and the curve of her lips. My thumb strokes over the wet skin of her hips in small, soothing circles.

“We need to talk,” I tell her, the mist of water in the air causing me to lick wetness from my lips.

Sounding properly miserable, Abby says, “I know that we do. I just—can’t we wait until we’re out of the shower? I just want to spend it with you happy, forgetting the world.”

“Whatever you want,” I tell her, honestly. It’s in moments like these that my feelings are affirmed.

I don’t just want Abby. I need her. Not just carnally, either. It’s not just that she’s beautiful—which she is. It’s the way that she holds herself, the way that she talks, the crease at the corner of her eyes when she laughs and the brief flash of teeth that’s visible when she really, truly smiles.

Our relationship has spiraled into something else, something haunting and warm. For the first time in years, I actually enjoy being around another person. When I think about the rest of my life, I can’t help but think about Abby there with me, at my side.

And it's affirmed more clearly than ever.

I’m in love with her.

That concept washes over me, a crash of warm reality.

I pull away from her suddenly, so that only my hands are on her shoulders. They run over her skin. “Get out with me?”

She agrees and I dry her off when we get out, the swipe of the towel over her skin turning into an action that is filled with nothing but worship.

She is everything to me.

When we finish getting dried off, I take hold of her hand and lead her into the bedroom, over to the bed. Neither of us bother to pick up our clothes and get dressed. We end up both just sitting on the edge of the bed, naked, looking at each other.

I keep hold of her hand, tangling our fingers together. Abby looks at me with those big, lovely green eyes of hers. “Are you okay, Dylan?”

“I’m fine,” I say, but there’s a softness to the words that doesn’t quite make them seem honest. I am fine. More than that, even. “I just—realized I needed to tell you something.”

“What’s that?” Abby asks.

It crosses my mind that I shouldn’t say anything.

The last time that I was open about how I felt towards someone, they broke my heart. Cheated on me and left me. It’s taken me years to get over her. But Abby is different, and I know that. She’s so earnest in how she feels, there’s no way that she would do me dirty the way that my ex did.

And even beyond that… There’s something about the way that Abby is looking at me right now. I know that there’s no way that I can lie to her. There's no way that I can dance around admitting it, either. I need her to know.

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