Page 55 of Shiver
I’m pulled from my thoughts when my phone pings. No, I don’t drop the stack of papers to answer it. And no, they don’t spread out like a deck of cards over my desk. With a huff of frustration and a glare at the offending papers, I pull out my phone from the drawer of my desk.
And also, no, my heart doesn’t jump when I see Egon’s name. None of that happened. This is all fucking temporary.
Egon Wolf
I missed a question that I knew the answer to. But it was long, and I panicked. Then I didn’t have time to go back to it.
I waited for more, but nothing else came. While I’d like to say that I could push him aside like I have everyone else, I don’t. Apparently, I’m getting weak in my old age.
Me
How do you feel you did otherwise?
I don’t get an answer. No little dots bouncing. I stare longer than I’ll ever admit to. When I still don’t see that he’s going to respond, I lock the phone again and shove it back in the drawer. No need to care about it.
Instead of being irritated that he didn’t answer, I restack the papers. I’m just shoving them into an envelope for Dr. Deena when there’s a knock on my door.
Felicia is never in on Wednesdays so I know it’s not her. And I don’t have office hours. I plan to ignore it when the knock repeats and I pause. Because that sounds an awful lot like Egon.
Getting up, telling myself I’m clearly going to need to back the fuck up before I get myself into trouble, I pull open the door. It is Egon. I’m only slightly smug that I recognized his knock.
He’s grinning and holding up a paper with a big fat red B on it. The excitement in his eyes that seemed to be glowing has me smiling despite my best efforts not to.
“Look!” he says as if I’m not already looking. Actually, I’m looking at him. Not the paper. “I fucking passed. It’s just psychology, but still! I passed it.”
I gripped his shirt and yanked him inside. As soon as I had enough room to shut the door, I did and pressed him against it. His bag dropped to the floor with athudand then his paper fluttered after it. His hands went to my waist, fisting into my shirt as my mouth covered his.
There weren’t any words. Nothing. I shoved my knee between his legs, pressing my thigh to his groin and enjoying the way he thickened right then and there. Egon groaned and rocked his hips, his hands circling my waist. He crushed me against him as I devoured his mouth. Pushing his tongue with my own until it moved in submission.
I drank in his excitement. His giddiness. His pride. Showing him I was so motherfucking proud of him and what he accomplished. Egon’s hands drop to my ass as he pulls me to him, grinding my erection against him.
I drop my mouth to his neck, partially to catch my breath, but also so I can hear the sounds he makes instead of swallowing them.
“I have practice,” Egon says, groaning as I slip my hand into his pants. His gasp is sexy. I lick my way up his neck to nip at his chin. “Then I can come over.”
“Good,” I say, watching his face as I jerk him.
The thrill of doing this in my office only adds to how good it feels. I’ve never touched anyone in my office. Ever. That’s grounds for termination. For being ejected from my doctoral program. Nothing has ever been even a little tempting for me to put that in jeopardy.
And yet, I can’t stop. Using my free hand, I unbutton his pants and pull the zipper down so I have a little more room to move. Egon bites his lip, the sounds in the back of his throat that he’s trying to swallow have my cock throbbing painfully.
“Want to get on your knees for me?” I ask.
Egon grunts, his hips thrusting into my hand. He nods, a low moan meeting my ears. Though I didn’t mean right this second—it was more of a rhetorical question—Egon slips from my grip and drops in front of me. With his back pressed to the door, his hands rip at my pants until he can pull me free.
I brace both my hands on the door, leaning my weight on it to assure no one can try to open it and walk in on this. As soon as he has my dick free, he licks the drops that have accumulated before wrapping his mouth around me.
My eyes close as his heat envelopes my dick. He moves his hands to my thigh, swallowing me a little deeper. When I tear my eyes open, he’s looking up at me with heat. Telling me to fuck him.
Leaving one hand on the door, I do. Gripping his hair tightly, I push into his mouth over and over. Listening to him slurp. To him gag. To him moan around me. While I’d like to draw this out, I know that we’re playing with fire here. Both of us have too much to lose if we’re caught.
So I waste no time fucking him in earnest. The heightened sounds he makes tell me he won’t be able to stave off his own orgasm long. “Don’t come yet,” I demand a second before I spill in his mouth. I don’t bother warning him. After the first spurt and my breath catches, I shove further into his mouth so my swollen cockhead is lodged in his throat. He gags around me, his fingers digging into my thighs, tears dripping down his cheeks as I unleash another shot straight down his throat.
When I’m relatively empty, I pull out and drag him to his feet. Egon stumbles, his back hitting the door a little too hard. We pause, even as he pants. I give it just a second to make sure the noise didn’t draw attention before I’m on my knees, yanking his pants down to his thighs.
I slick my fingers in my mouth and make him spread his legs as much as he’s able with his pants restraining his movement. As soon as I take his dripping cock into my mouth, I waste no time pushing my fingers into his tight, puckered hole.
Egon gasps loudly. I look up in time to see him bite down on his fist. It doesn’t do anything to stop his noises. Only muffles them. Watching his face, I push my two fingers in deeper. His legs shake. His body curls toward me, wanting more.
