The TA (Kingston College Book 1)

by Vivica Dorn

  Sam’s nostrils flared, and before Michel knew what was happening, he had buried his head between Michel’s white thighs and taken his entire cock into his mouth.

  Michel’s entire body sparked at the contact. He cried out sharply, hands clutching the bedspread, hips bucking involuntarily into Sam’s hot mouth. But Sam didn’t give him a moment to relax, didn’t give him time to catch his breath, before he began to suck.

  “Putain, fuck, ȏ mon dieu.” Michel’s eyes were wide and unseeing, his head thrown back, his hips rolling and jerking with the motion of the exquisite hot wetness around him.

  No one had ever sucked his cock before. He had let his high school classmate Irène give him a handjob at a party once, one of the only parties he had ever gone to, but other than that he hadn’t really been with anyone. He hadn’t had the time or the inclination to date or engage in physical relationships when he had been working so hard towards his goals at school. His aunt had once accused him, lovingly but worriedly, of having tunnel vision, and had said that he tried to act to old for his age. But he had ignored her concerns and forged ahead, stoic and sure.

  Which had led him here. To this night, to this room, to this moment. To these unfathomable and foreign sensations.

  Michel knew he wouldn’t last much longer. His cock was close to bursting, his hips arching high into the air, pleasure pulsing in him like a second heartbeat. Sam slurped and sucked, his hands caressing Michel’s hips, his ass, his balls. Sam’s brow was furrowed, his cheekbones flushed red as his head bobbed up and down, tongue moving up and down Michel’s length. Michel touched Sam’s head, trying to push him back, moaning “J’arrive, I’m so close,” but Sam would not let go. He increased the pace and the suction, groaning around Michel’s cock. And soon enough Michel wasn’t trying to push him back but instead was burying his hands in that thick soft hair, pulling that mouth down upon him harder as he writhed.

  Sam stilled as Michel emptied himself into his mouth with a long, choked cry.

  After a moment, Sam released Michel’s softening cock, but not before licking the over-sensitive tip, causing Michel to jerk and gasp. Sam got up onto his elbows, meeting Michel’s eyes. He stared at Michel with that same intensity Michel remembered from the library, that savage tenderness, the yearning that made Michel’s stomach clench. There was something in that look that went beyond physical desire, beyond sex, beyond anything Michel had ever experienced before. Michel couldn’t explain or name it. Or perhaps he was just too afraid to name it. As if naming it would make it disappear.

  His left hand caressing the inside of Michel’s knee, he undid his belt and jeans with his other, taking out his huge erection and beginning to stroke himself, eyes half closed yet never leaving Michel’s flushed face.

  What’s next? Michel wondered, half terrified and half exhilarated. He watched Sam’s huge hand stroke up and down that red hardness, watched as a drop of precum appeared at the thick head. What would Sam do now? His mouth went dry at the thought. Would Sam try to fuck him? And would he try to stop him?

  He knew with sudden certainty that he wouldn’t try to stop the golden, panting boy. He looked so exquisite, muscles clenching and working as he stroked himself, jaw tight, eyes dark with desire. Michel felt his own spent cock stir slightly at the thought of Sam entering him, losing himself in the heat of Michel’s body.

  As if reading his thoughts, Sam leaned down, his mouth brushing Michel’s ear.

  “I wanna fuck you so bad. Never wanted someone like this.”

  Michel’s chest tightened and he spread his legs further under Sam’s weight. Was this really about to happen? Was he about to have sex for the first time, and with another man to boot? His heart pounded. He practically held his breath.

  But Sam didn’t move. He continued to stroke himself, harder and faster, his slick tip nudging Michel’s abdomen. His voice reverberated rough and low against Michel’s face and neck.

  “But I don’t want to fuck you without knowing what I am to you. What this is. I can’t. You mean so fucking much to me, oh my god.”

  He grunted low in his throat, pressing himself harder against Michel, hand still working quick and fierce.

  What was Sam to him? Michel lay silently, the question bleating in his head like a neon sign. Sam was... Sam. The maddening, beautiful, strong boy who had saved him and had driven him crazy ever since. Michel’s brow furrowed. But that was before. Things had changed. What was Sam to him now? He wasn’t sure he knew the answer. His lack of romantic and sexual experience came forcefully into play as he realized that he had absolutely no clue what Sam meant to him, here and now. What had their relationship become? And would he ever be able to define it?

  Michel gulped as Sam panted against his neck.

  “I want you, Michel. Want you so fucking badly, you don’t even know. This week was hell. I couldn’t stop thinking about you. Imagining kissing you, sucking you off, imagining you with your legs spread just like this...”

  Michel’s stomach plummeted and something deep inside him clenched. He was getting hard again, Jesus Christ.

  Sam’s breath came faster and he groaned. Warm liquid spurted onto Michel’s bare abdomen and he whimpered, hardening completely as Sam came to trembling, ecstatic orgasm. As Sam panted, eyes bleary, Michel reached down to clutch at his sensitive erection. He couldn’t believe that he was hard again so quickly. Sam looked down at his hand’s movement with lurid fascination.

  “Fuck, I want to taste you again,” he murmured darkly.

  Michel moved his hand out of the way to give Sam access. To give Sam everything, everything, everything.

  CHAPTER 13

  Sunlight ravaged Sam’s suddenly too-thin eyelids. The light penetrated painfully, shafts like dull needles in his brain, as he slowly stirred awake. He opened his eyes and blinked a few times, looking up at an unfamiliar ceiling. For a moment he lay still in confusion, too tired and confused to even formulate the question where am I? But with a hot rush it all came back: the party, his altercation with Lance, Michel coming to find him out on the street, Michel’s cock exploding in his mouth. Twice.

  He rolled onto his back, grinning, the sunlight suddenly not so venomous. He knew that something had shifted in Michel last night. He had felt the gorgeous TA truly open up and accept him, spreading his legs and opening his mouth with abandon. Though he hadn’t said the words, his honest eyes and needy body had conveyed his desire for Sam. Optimism buoyed him as he fantasized about their next encounter. He was sure that soon enough he would hear the words he wanted to hear from the stubborn TA. Soon enough he would be let inside that stern little heart. And soon enough he’d fuck Michel so hard and deep that that heart would be forced up into his delicate marble throat.

  Sam rolled over, reaching for his phone in the pile of his clothes on the floor. By some miracle his phone hadn’t died, though its charge was dangerously low.

  7:12am. He wasn’t late for any classes yet. His phone flashed with a message from Michel. Sam opened it, almost giddy.

  I had to leave to prepare for class this morning. There is food in the kitchen if you want. The key is in the red mug in the cupboard, please lock the apartment door.

  Sam smiled, thumb caressing the screen. Damn, he had it bad. Really, really bad. He’d always thought people exaggerated when they talked about infatuation or love. Novels seemed over-the-top, movies a parody, songs a sappy fantasy. He’d been attracted to his girlfriends in the past, and had enjoyed dating them, but he had never been so utterly consumed with thoughts about another person. Until now.

  Infatuation. Love. Was Sam in love? He thought about how his entire being had suffered and protested when he had been apart from Michel last week, and he thought of the violent yet protective nature of his feelings. He wanted to save Michel, drag him up from the deep, cradle him like a precious thing, and he wanted to mark him irreparably, wanted to make him beg and bleed, wanted to split him in two with his cock.

  Was he in love? Sam smiled at h
is phone again, reading Michel’s name over and over again, his eyes tracing the letters as if they were a map.

  He didn’t bother ruminating on the subject for very long. Because, really, what was the point of wasting time thinking about a question whose answer he already knew?

  Sam dressed quickly, still grinning to himself. He hadn’t been drunk enough last night to truly be hungover, but he still felt like he needed to get some food into his rolling stomach. His throat was dry, too, and his head throbbed vaguely, so he headed into Michel’s spotless kitchen and took a glass from the cupboard, filling it with cool tap water. Chugging it, he opened the fridge, looking for something salty and greasy, hopefully some leftover pizza. Sam stopped drinking, his mouth forming a tight line. No pizza. Only fruits, vegetables, chicken breasts, and plain yogurt. Why didn’t it surprise him that someone as serious as Michel was a health nut, too? He closed the fridge again and quickly finished his glass of water. He would head home and then find some food on campus. He glanced at his phone again. There was time before his Politics and Governance class at 8:30am. He yanked the only red mug he could find out from the cupboard and snatched the metal key, letting himself out of the apartment and then locking the door. Michel hadn’t given him instructions on where to leave the key. There was a mat outside the apartment door and Sam knew he really should just put it there. But instead he slipped it into his pocket, guaranteeing the opportunity to see Michel again before the day was through. He patted his pocket, feeling irrationally pleased with himself and only a little, just a little, fucked-up.

  ~

  Sam jogged down the crowded college hallway, dodging students and their over-stuffed backpacks and bags. He was about to be late to Dr Adams Politics and Governance class. And Dr Adams did not take well to lateness. It had taken longer than he had anticipated to head back to his dorm, shower and change, and then go get something to eat. He reached his classroom door and yanked it open, relieved to hear the din of laughter and chatter inside. The professor had not yet arrived. He was safe.

  Breathing out, he scanned the lecture hall to look for Finn. The small boy was seated near the front, poring studiously over his notes, looking rather tense. Sam immediately noticed the reason for the odd set of his shoulders – Lance Gallagher was seated directly behind his friend, his intense grey gaze never leaving that stiff back. Sam’s eyes narrowed grimly as he recalled their odd encounter at the party last night, but, as was his usual easy-going style, he let it go with a shake of his head. Sliding into the open seat next to Finn and ignoring the practically demonic presence behind them, he sighed and exclaimed, “I can’t believe I beat Adams! Today’s my lucky day.” And last night was my lucky night.

  He leaned closer to his friend, whispering conspiratorially.

  “Did you see who’s sitting behind you?”

  Finn nodded and rolled his eyes.

  “Yeah, what the hell, there’s so many empty seats. Why’s he even in a freshman course, anyway?” He whined, scrunching up his nose.

  Sam didn’t have an answer for that. He shrugged, giving voice to the only theory that made sense to him.

  “He’s an engineering student so it’s probably an elective. No idea why he sat there though. You’re always the third to his fourth in the relay, maybe he wants to keep his eye on you, make sure you’re being a good boy out of the pool.” Sam’s tone suddenly darkened as he realized something, and he lowered his voice further.

  “He seemed to be keeping a pretty close eye on you last night, too.”

  Finn scowled and looked away.

  “What the fuck are you talking about,” he muttered.

  “Well,” Sam started slowly, “now that I think about it, it kinda seems like seems like he grabbed me in response to me hugging you. Like, he was reacting to me touching you.” Sam couldn’t believe he hadn’t made the connection before. He hadn’t been pushed into the wall, he had been pulled away from Finn. What the hell was going on between those two?

  Finn sighed raggedly, his eyes flicking to the side, trying to see Lance without turning his head.

  “I don’t even know, man. The dude’s a mystery.”

  Sam decided not to press any further. Whatever was going on between these two, he wasn’t sure he wanted to get any more involved. If Finn ever needed his help he would be there in an instant, of course, but he didn’t get the impression that Finn needed his assistance. Only that he wanted Sam to drop the subject. So he did.

  It wasn’t hard to do as a gorgeous distraction soon presented itself. Michel walked into the classroom, sporting his usual look of tight dark jeans and a V-neck sweater, his eyes and lips and hair and skin as devastating as ever. Sam leaned forward, not even trying to hide the fact that he was staring. Michel caught the look and blushed fiercely, scowling. Sam suppressed a laugh at the typical Michel reaction and leaned back cockily in his seat, his placing his hands behind his head. Finn glanced at him, but he ignored the questioning eyes, his gaze never straying from the TA.

  Michel cleared his throat and regarded the rest of the class, purposely ignoring Sam. Sam suddenly had the absurd desire to tell everyone else to close their eyes. No one should be able to look upon something so beautiful. Nobody but him.

  “Professor Adams can’t attend lecture today due to family circumstances. I will be lecturing today in his stead.” Sam really couldn’t believe his luck. Not only had he avoided Dr Adams’ ire when he was late, but now he got to spend the next hour and twenty minutes drinking in Michel’s face and voice. If Heaven existed, surely it must look like Kingston College.

  Sam quickly pulled out his pen and notebook, looking at their TA almost eagerly, hoping he would be noticed taking notes. Michel looked at Sam again, narrowed his eyes, and began the class without a further glance his way. Sam only smiled at the reaction. He couldn’t wait to get the TA alone again.

  Taking notes during the lecture proved more difficult than Sam had thought it would be. Every turn of Michel’s head, every lilt of his accented voice, reminded Sam of a different moment from last night, a different wanton expression, a different sound he had made. He had been so beautiful, so vulnerable, lying with his legs spread beneath Sam’s weight, rolling his hips as Sam sucked. He never would have imagined that having another man’s cock in his mouth would inflame him so badly, would drive almost to the edge of madness. But taking that most sensitive part of Michel into his mouth had proven to be one of the most exquisite sexual experiences of his young life. He couldn’t wait to do it again. And more. The entire time he had been jerking himself off against Michel’s stomach, he had been imagining pressing that hard cock deep into Michel’s slick body.

  He shook his head and looked down at his notes again. He hadn’t written anything in the last 15 minutes. Guess I’ll need some tutoring this week, he thought with a silent, internal shrug. After last night, he was sure that Michel would be willing to go back to their previous arrangement. Sam had felt something open up in the stubborn boy, had felt something important shift. He stared at the TA again, watched as he lectured so competently, so brilliantly, confident and sure. So different from the way he had trembled and moaned last night...

  Jesus, dude, chill. He took a deep breath and stared down at his notebook. If he didn’t look at Michel, only listened, then maybe he’d be able to retain some of this damn lesson. Training his eyes on the page, he began to write, trying to tune out the melodious tone of Michel’s voice and focus only on the words themselves. It wasn’t easy, but by the end of the lecture he had some semblance of notes to work with.

  “Remember we have a quiz next time on the effects of globalization on the democratic processes of developing nations. Today’s slides will be posted for your review. Merci, tout le monde.” Michel ended the lesson, and Sam stuffed his things quickly back into his bag.

  “Later, man,” he muttered to Finn, jumping up and bolting to the front of the class. He cornered Michel before another student had the chance to approach him to ask a question, stand
ing close, a little too close, to the TA.

  “What the hell are you doing,” Michel hissed, face flushing. Sam grinned down at the embarrassed boy.

  “What do you mean, I’m talking to my TA.”

  Michel rolled his emerald eyes.

  “I mean, why are you standing so close? And that look you gave me at the beginning of lecture, actually, throughout the whole lecture! It looked like you wanted to eat me.”

  Impishly, Sam lowered his voice and said, “maybe I do want to eat you. Like I did last night.”

  Michel’s eyes widened and he looked away, pursing his lips.

  Suddenly Sam felt concerned, a weight settling in his chest.

  “Don’t tell me you regret it,” he said softly. Michel’s brows contracted and he looked back up at Sam again.

  “No,” he said with his usual dignity, though his cheeks burned crimson. “I don’t regret it. I just... I’m still trying to figure out the details of this. Of what it means for my job and academic career. Being with a student, it’s such a bad idea.”

  Sam sighed, running his hand through his hair. Seeing Michel so worried made him want to wrap his arms around him, to take that sweet mouth with his own, to tell him everything would be ok. That he would make it all ok. But of course, he couldn’t promise that. Michel was right. And the last thing he wanted to do was get the boy he had begun to love into serious trouble.

  “Should we, I don’t know, hold off on things for a while? Not like before, when it was weird between us, but just, like, put a pause on things until the course is done?” Sam barely forced the words out. His entire being screamed at him to stop as he spoke. This wasn’t what he wanted – he couldn’t imagine not touching Michel for another month and a half until after their exam in December. When he tried to picture it he couldn’t. He saw only a great black void that burned like agony, threatening to swallow him up entirely.

  Judging by the look on Michel’s face he felt the same way. His lip trembled and he bit it, eyes dark and sad.