by Fiona Cole
It would be like everything else.
I could plead insanity.
Just for a little while.
Nine
Arabella
The door slammed behind me, and I whipped around, backing away slower than Willem prowled toward me.
I wanted to be caught, but I enjoyed the chase too.
My back hit the banister, and I looked side to side. Up the stairs to the bedroom or over to the living room. My mind quickly flashed with visions of what his stare promised. Each position more deviant than the last.
When he stood less than an arm’s length away, I twisted to the side and tried to run up the stairs, but he was faster. He snatched my wrist and whirled me around to the wall by the steps like he had at the bar and blocked my escape. Except this time, he didn’t hold back. He didn’t fist his hands in resistance on either side of my head. No. He followed with intention, and before I could blink, his mouth was on mine.
I didn’t hesitate. I pressed to my toes, adding to the pressure of the kiss. My hands gripped his waist and tugged him to meet me halfway, groaning at the hard length pressing to my stomach. His kiss was as hard as him. The thick scruff surrounding his lips abraded my skin and smeared my lipstick. I knew I looked a mess, but I didn’t care. I wanted him to eat me up and make a mess of every inch of me. Just so I could turn around and do the same to him.
His teeth dug into my bottom lip, pulling a shocked gasp from me.
“I’ve wanted to do that since I opened the door to you chewing on it.”
“What took you so long?” I taunted.
“Goddamn, you’re so sassy. I wanted to tame that mouth too.” His thumb came up to replace his teeth. “Will you let me tame this pretty mouth?”
It took everything I had not to drop to my knees there, but somewhere in the back of my mind, our age difference lingered, and I wanted to be enough woman for him. I wanted to make him fight for it. We’d waited so long—danced around our want—that I wasn’t going to be some easy teenager for him to fuck.
“Maybe. Will you let me tame yours?”
I shrieked when he growled, reaching down far enough to wrap his two large hands around my thighs and hoist me up around his waist. He made the decision for us and moved up the stairs, the wood creaking under our weight. Unable to help myself, I used my legs to rub up and down his abdomen, craving friction any way I could get it.
“Soaking through my fucking shirt.”
“I need you,” I whispered in his ear, growing desperate.
As quick as he picked me up, he stopped and set me down. We’d only made it halfway up the stairs, but he apparently needed me too.
He stood tall, looming above me, and whipped his shirt over his head, exposing every inch of rippling muscle. I swear I almost drooled.
Damn. Uncle Willem was hot.
No. Just Will tonight.
I didn’t get much time to admire his body because he dropped to his knees a couple steps below and wedged his shoulders between my thighs, pushing my skirt up as he went. I opened my mouth to tell him I needed to take my skirt off to get to what he wanted, but it died in my throat when the tip of his tongue probed through the fabric right where I ached the most.
“Even through the cotton, you taste like fucking heaven. Let’s see how you taste on my tongue.”
He slipped his fingers under the elastic, brushing the lips of my pussy, before pulling the fabric to the side and diving in. His tongue brushed from the bottom of my opening all the way to the top just to swirl around my clit. I cried out and thrust up, the pleasure unlike anything I’d ever felt before.
He latched on and sucked, flicking his tongue back and forth like it was a race to my orgasm. My head fell back against the steps and one hand moved to palm my breast, helping him reach the finish line. As if he sensed my movement, his hand shot up to grip my wrist, pulling it away. With one last swipe, he leaned back, and I wanted to whimper at the loss.
“I touch you.”
“Then do it.”
Will delivered a smirk that rivaled mine, distracting me so much, I missed his hands lifting to rip my top down. My breasts popped free, the cool air hardening my nipples to tight points.
“Fuck, yes. Just as perfect as I imagined.”
“You i-imagined me?” I breathed, stuttering over the words when his tongue flicked the tip.
“Yes.”
“Did you touch yourself?”
“Yes.”
Everything went hazy when he scraped his beard across one nipple and moved to the next. He circled the other bud with his tongue, not quite hitting the tip, and I wanted to grip his hair and direct him where I wanted. How did we get from a rushed frenzy to a slow, languid pace?
“Did you think of the way my tits would bounce as you fucked me? Ow,” I gasped at the sharp pinch against the bottom of my breast.
“Don’t push me.”
“Someone has to.”
We glared at each other without any actual anger, as if in an equal standoff. At least we were equal. I should have known he would knock me back when his smirk reappeared, and he slowly went back to pressing kisses to my nipples, traveling up my neck.
“Tell me, Arabella,” he demanded against my skin, his hands moving to the waist of my skirt. “Has anyone ever eaten this tight little pussy? Is that why you’re so eager to get me back there?”
I stared up at the ceiling and clenched my jaw, refusing to admit anything. But I did lift my hips when he tugged my skirt down, dragging it off my legs agonizingly slow when all I wanted to do was kick it off.
The rough pads of his fingers trailed up my thighs and gently brushed against my folds, slipping just enough between to torture, but not to touch my clit.
“Tell me, and maybe I’ll do it again.”
“No,” I gasped, almost pleading. “No one has gone down on me.”
“Good girl. Now,” he sat back and spread my legs as wide as they’d go, baring every inch of me. “I want you to watch me. I want you to watch the way my tongue pushes inside and tastes every inch of you. I want you to watch when I suck your smooth folds into my mouth. I want you to watch my fingers disappear inside your cunt and come back out coated in your cream. I want you to watch the way my tongue circles your ripe little clit until you’re screaming in pleasure.”
I couldn’t answer past the lump of need threatening to choke me, so I nodded.
“Good.”
It was the last thing he said before he did exactly that. He looked up from between my thighs to make sure I watched every part. Neither of us said another word as he ate me like a starving man. Only my whimpers echoed off the walls when he finished like he said, his fingers in my cunt, his mouth sucking on my clit while his other hand tugged painfully at my nipple.
Gripping the edge of the wooden stairs so hard, I was sure I’d crack them, I came. I dug my heels into the wood and pushed against his thrusting hand and rubbed against his face, chasing every last second of my orgasm.
He kissed down my thigh once I finally settled, pulling his fingers from me with an obscene wet noise.
“I want you to go to your room and bend over the bed.”
“What?” I asked breathlessly.
“Don’t ask questions, Arabella. Just do it.”
I wanted to rebel, to push back, but my mind had nothing left. I couldn’t think on my own. Especially when he stood tall and started unfastening his belt and then his jeans. It was a solid reminder that we weren’t done yet.
He stepped over me and walked to his room. When he disappeared behind the door, I scrambled as fast as my weak legs could carry me and did as he ordered. I’d never obeyed someone so easily as I did then.
It shocked me, but not quite as much as the fact that I liked it.
I stripped the rest of my clothes and rested my arms on the bed, waiting less than fifteen seconds before he loomed in the doorway.
“Spread your legs wider. Let me see it all.”
I did, and he reward
ed me with a deep groan.
I tried to look over my shoulder as he approached, but only got a glimpse of his chest before he stood too close to see. But I could hear. I could hear the tear of the condom wrapper. I could hear his jeans hit the floor and knew he stood naked behind me.
I could feel. I could feel the heat of his body so close, but not close enough. I could feel the touch of his fingers on my ankles as he trailed them up my legs.
Another whimper slipped free when he pushed his face between my legs and licked my oversensitive clit, through my opening and all the way up the crack of my ass.
“Oh, god. Are you going to fuck me?”
I didn’t think I could wait another second. I couldn’t handle any more teasing.
“Probably more than once,” he admitted between kisses up my back. “Are you okay with that?”
“Yes. Please,” I begged.
He slapped my ass, the sting pulling a sharp moan from me. “Good.”
And with that, he shoved inside me, stealing any more words I could form. He wasn’t nice. He wasn’t gentle and slow in discovery like other guys. He also wasn’t quick, racing to his own orgasm without any concern for mine.
No. He alternated between quick, shallow thrusts and hard, bruising fucking. He’d hold my shoulders and push in as far and hard as he could go, pulling a wordless cry from my lips. When sweat slicked both our skins, he dug his hand in my hair and yanked me upright.
“Look,” he ordered against my cheek.
I opened my eyes and looked at the mirror, finding my pale breasts bouncing in the moonlight. His tan skin wrapped around mine as he buried his hand between my thighs. His dark hair mashed against the wild mess of my red mane. We were flushed with the same desperate look.
“Fucking beautiful. With your tight little pussy milking my cock. Fuck, I’m gonna come.”
“Yes. Yes.”
“You first.” He took two fingers and slapped my clit at the same time as pushing deep, and I came. I held on to his hips and fell apart, lost in the vision of us together.
His groan penetrated my haze, and I squeezed my core tighter, focusing on prolonging the orgasm for both of us.
His hand finally relaxed in my hair, and we fell over, where he quickly rolled his heavy weight off and slipped out.
“Jesus fucking Christ.”
“Yeah,” I agreed, gasping for air. “I’m gonna need a repeat performance as promised.”
“Noted,” he huffed. “Just give me a minute.”
“Just a little while,” I promised.
Ten
Willem
I made it to the classroom just in time. After showing up twenty minutes later than I planned, I also forgot my connecter cable for my laptop and had to run back to my office. The first day of classes was not the day to be distracted, and yet, there I was. My mind more focused on the most amazing sex I’d had over the last couple of nights rather than my job.
Hell, standing there in front of the room, pulling up the list of names in my class, my mind was still more focused on the image of Arabella bouncing on my cock this morning. On top of all that, I was on my third cup of coffee.
Because I was up all night and into the next day fucking Arabella—my niece, my stepbrother’s daughter, a teenager fourteen years younger than me.
No matter how many ways I put it, I couldn’t deny that I’d fucked up royally. But I also couldn’t stop. I didn’t want to. I’d even tried. Last night, I’d cornered her in the kitchen after dinner, and then again on the couch, trying to get her out of my system in an attempt to get a good night’s sleep. It’d been a joke because before dawn, I’d still woken up in her bed after coming to her in the middle of the night for more.
More, more, more.
But it wasn’t just her body I kept going back for. It was the moments between, when she curled in my arms, and we discussed the pros and cons of ways to travel. It was the conversations and debates and jokes and laughter that had got us there in the first place. It’d never been just about sex with her.
The sex had been a culmination of it all. She’d dug her way into my mind long before I craved her body. And the explosion of the last couple days made it impossible to ignore the way my heart thudded a little harder at just the thought of being with her. Before it’d been the hugs—the connection. It’d been the excitement of spending the evening with someone who got you—who saw you for you. I’d put it down to too many years alone.
But when I’d pushed open her door just after we’d said goodnight, the feeling returned, and it hadn’t left until I did.
So, I stayed as long as I could, laughing with her long after I came, shoving past the truth that the weekend held more than just sex.
It left me tired and satisfied. But also distracted.
That’s the only reason I could come up with how I completely missed her sitting in the first row of my class. Not even noticing until I stumbled over her name.
“Here,” she answered.
My head snapped up. A white band T-shirt, black shorts that showed off her creamy thighs that I knew exactly how it felt to be between, and that sassy smirk.
After a hesitation that stretched on alarmingly long in my mind, I jerked back to attention, moving on to the next name.
What the hell was she doing in my class? She wanted to be a teacher. Had we talked about this? Had she mentioned it and I missed it?
If I’d been distracted before, it was nothing compared to having her warm brown eyes devouring me the entire class. I stumbled more than once over the syllabus and cut the class short when the questions running rampant in my brain became too much.
“Miss Colins. A word, please,” I asked when only a few students still lingered in the room. Thankfully, they were too consumed by their own world to notice mine.
“Sure. In your office?”
I didn’t miss the way she said office, and my mind flashed to her sitting on my desk, jokingly asking if she could earn her A another way.
With each step up the flight of stairs and down the hall, I took deep breaths, doing my best to ignore her behind me. Old students waved and colleagues said hi. I needed to be the beacon of professionalism despite that almost my entire focus was on keeping my erection under control.
As soon as the door closed, I asked, “What are you doing?”
She took her time, looking around my office again, cocking a brow when I made it a point to sit in my chair, hoping a desk between us would help. However, instead of sitting in the chair for students, she dragged her fingers along the desk, making her way to my side.
“Taking a class. Setting myself up for a better future, according to my parents,” she teased.
“That’s not what I meant. What are you doing in my class?”
“I thought it would be fun to take economics. It can’t hurt to have a well-rounded education.”
“Arabella…”
“Uncle Will,” she said, laughter in her taunting voice.
“Jesus Christ. Please stop calling me that.” She leaned against the edge of my desk, her long legs stretched out beside my chair, and I was useless to stop myself from taking in every inch, clenching the sides to keep from stroking her tempting flesh. Sitting tall, looking at papers on my desk, I tried for some semblance of control. “We’re already walking a fine line, Arabella. Adding a student-teacher relationship on top of everything else is unprofessional. It’s—”
“Hot.”
Her interjection pulled my attention back to her. Not that it was hard.
God, that smirk. I’d yet to watch those lips wrap around me. I’d been too busy between her thighs. She tasted like heaven and knowing I’d been the only man to eat her pussy, only made me want to do it more.
“It’s okay to admit. I know you’re all professional and serious,” she said with a scowl for effect before shifting back to a taunting smirk, her elegant fingers stroking her collar bone. “But you can admit it to me. I won’t judge you. I can make your darkest fanta
sies come true.”
“You couldn’t handle my darkest fantasies.”
“Try me.”
“I can’t do them here.” Part of me wanted to try. Part of me wanted to whip off my belt and paint her ass red before fucking her against my desk. But we already toed the edge of getting caught. Her delicious cries of pleasure and pain would be too loud for the school day.
“Then we’ll do those at home. But you can’t say you’ve never fantasized about using your authority—your power—to gain pleasure.”
Not exactly. Not outside of a consensual fantasy. I’d never once looked at a student in my class and thought about abusing my status. That didn’t mean I hadn’t fantasized about a faceless woman pleasuring her teacher.
My dick hardened, doing its best to escape my slacks and get to her.
I lost the battle when she brought both hands up and stroked them past the hard buds of her nipples poking against her shirt. I needed to have a conversation about her wearing a bra. Only because I didn’t want others to see what was mine.
Mine?
I jerked away from the alarming thought—out of the frying pan and into the fire.
I dove headfirst into the forbidden—the illicit. The control.
“Get on your knees.”
Her eyes blazed, widening like a kid in a candy shop. Without hesitation, she whipped off her shirt, exposing the creamy, pale breasts I’d grown to love, and fell to her knees. She rested her hands on my legs, inching her way between my thighs.
“Sit back. If anyone comes in, I don’t want them to know I’ve got my fat cock down my student’s throat.”
“Yes, Dr. Deander.”
So fucking wrong, and yet, as she adjusted, I unfastened my pants and pulled my hard length free, painting her lips with the leaking precum. Her tongue chased the head, tasting me.
“Now, take that sassy mouth of yours, wrap it around my cock, and make me come.”
Her soft hand gripped my shaft and squeezed at the same time as her tongue flicked out to slip between the slit. I clenched my jaw, keeping my moan under control.