Page 10 of Tempting the Teacher

The taste of him fills my senses—hints of cinnamon and the faintest trace of mint, like a forbidden dessert I’ve denied myself for far too long. My nose fills with the woodsy aroma of his cologne, mingled with his natural scent. It’s as intoxicating as aged whiskey. His hands—those long fingers he’d threatened me with—slide to the nape of my neck. Threading through my hair, grounding me in his touch. His tongue laps at my lips, begging for entry. He doesn’t have to beg for long. When he slides inside, my tongue surges to meet his. The two blades parrying and feinting in a very old, very satisfying dance. The subtle rasp of his stubble against my skin is a symphony. My body responds like a chorus of singers following the hand movements of a powerful conductor.

He deepens the kiss, and I swear I hear the softest rumble of satisfaction from deep within his chest, a sound that vibrates through me, igniting a blaze that years and distance had reduced to embers. A blaze that sears me from the inside out. Burning out every nerve ending and turning the blood pumping impossibly fast through my veins into a river of flames and lava. Time stretches and compresses until there’s nothing in the universe but the two of us.

Finally, as if obeying some unspoken signal, we both pull back. Our breaths come fast and shallow, as if we’ve been running, though neither of us has moved an inch. In that lingering silence, the air thick with the electricity of what just occurred, our eyes lock onto each other.

He’s the first to break the silence. His low, throaty voice is laced with a hint of mischief and triumph. “I have to admit, I don’t feel sorry about that at all.”

My lips, still tingling from his touch, curve into the smallest of smiles. “Neither do I.”

Chad

I’ve imagined this moment a thousand times. Not daring to give her the chance to back, I lift her chin and capture her lips with mine.

Fuck. It’s like the world jerks out of orbit for a split second. This kiss isn’t just lips meeting lips; it’s a clash of years of pent-up feelings, unsaid words, and lingering regret. My lips navigate the landscape of her mouth—both familiar and brand-new—as we discover the rhythm we almost missed.

When my tongue sweeps across her lower lip, she grants me entry. Our tongues dance, and I’m drunk from it. I deepen the kiss. Struggling to hold both her and my sanity.

When we finally separate, our breaths are quick, our chests heaving as if we just sprinted through the memories and the years between us. The silence that settles is not empty; it’s pregnant with the weight of a moment neither of us will forget.

Breaking the silence, my voice comes out low and tinged with a quiet triumph. “I have to admit, I don’t feel sorry about that at all.”

A smile graces her lips, still flush from our kiss, as she murmurs, “Neither do I.”

In that instant, I know I’m one step closer to winning her back, to proving that the guy who once hurt her has become a man worthy of her love. And god, I’ll move heaven and earth to be that man for her. I promised her what would happen if I apologized again.

Raya’s eyes widen as I push her down on the desk. Did she doubt I’d keep my word? I lean in close to her, my lips brushing against the shell of her ear as I whisper, “Let me show you how sorry I am.”

Without waiting for a response, I trail kisses down her neck, nipping and sucking at the soft skin until she’s gasping and moaning. My hands roam over her body, tracing the curves of her hips and the swell of her breasts through the fabric of her shirt. Raya’s heart pounds beneath my touch, spurring me further. I can’t resist sucking her breast through the soft cotton. Her nipples stiffen and pearl under the wet fabric. I don’t stop. Traveling between the two globes that form my world. The women I know take pride in thin, angular physiques. Sharp blades of bones housed in narrow layers of flesh. Raya’s curves taunt me with flesh I want to roll between my fingers and own with my palms.

I pull back. Leaving wet circles as evidence of my promise. She murmurs in protest when I rise. But I’m not going anywhere. Hell, no. I should take her home and make love to her properly. Later, I will. However, this first time is not for making love. This is fucking. Ripping the bandage off and taking away the scab. Roughly healing a wound she should never have endured.

I pull her shirt up over her head, revealing the lacy bra that she’d hidden beneath her school clothes. I waste no time in unhooking it, freeing her breasts to my hungry gaze. Leaning in, I take one nipple into my mouth, swirling my tongue around it and nibbling gently. Mapping the small pores on the tips, tracing the fine halo that borders each brown peak. Raya arches into me, as she moans my name. I could come from her responses alone.

I move to the other breast, lavishing the same attention on it until she’s writhing beneath me. My hands roam down to the button of her jeans, and I undo it with shaking fingers, desperate to see what’s beneath. I push them down over her hips, revealing a pair of black, lacy panties that match her bra.

“God, you’re so beautiful,” I groan, before trailing kisses down her stomach and over the soft fabric of her panties. Dampness greets me. I slide my fingers over the very center of her, pressing and stroking until her hips are rocking and her breathing is uneven. I move my kisses lower, pushing the fabric aside and tasting her most intimate self. Raya gasps, and her fingers tangle in my hair. My tongue pushes her closer to the edge.

“Chad,” Raya breathes, her voice shaking with desire.

“Yes, baby,” I reply, my voice thick with hunger. I dip my finger beneath the fabric and into the warm wetness between her legs. Her hips buck up to meet me as I stroke her.

“I want you to come,” I whisper against her ear.

She moans and nods. Her soft curls swish back and forth across the desk. True to my word, I drop to my knees. Stripping her pants and panties away, I finish my sentence. “But not yet.”

I wrap her knees over my shoulders, and her ankles gallop on my back when I bury my face between her thighs. My tongue licks and swirls around her clit, tasting every inch of her. I press my lips to the crease of her pussy, sucking and licking until she’s trembling with pleasure.

She writhes and moans in time with each thrust of my tongue. I told her I’d etch my name inside her pussy, and my fingers breach her inner walls, curling and rotating to aid my mission. But I still don’t let her come. I don’t give her what she begging for as she bucks and rocks on the table. I can’t when I want more.

Raya has always been my dream girl. Even when I couldn’t admit it to her or myself. Now, lying beneath me, with the moonlight’s glow illuminating her bronzed skin through the classroom’s closed blinds. The soft light shows me everything I want to see. A clear beacon teaching me something I should have learned in high school—that this woman is all I need. She is the complete package.

I have a lot more apologies to make. Not to her, but to every woman I’ve been with inside of instead of her. I didn’t know it. God’s truth, I didn’t realize. They were playthings, toys, and bumps on the road on my way back to her. Although I never misled anyone I ever slept with, I never made love to anyone either. Fuck buddies, that’s all they were and all they ever could have been. Because this woman owns, has always owned, my more.

Her knees knock against my ears, urging me out of my reverie. Demanding that I not leave her hanging. I return to carving a place in her incredibly tight pussy for me. My tongue explores her heat as I lap her up. “Do you forgive me?”

Raya tenses beneath me, her hips stalling in their rocking. I wait, not wanting to pressure her, but hoping she’ll remember that I said I’d make it up to her.

“Yes,” she finally whispers, her voice thick with desire.

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