by K. V. Rose
I guess I won’t have to take her to a movie after all.
Her hands find my chest, and she leaves them there, palms flat against me.
I suck on her neck, hard, and she moans. I scrape my teeth against her skin, going lower still. Her fingers dig into my skin, outside of my shirt.
I slip one hand under her shirt, kneading her soft skin with my fingers, trailing up, over the flat plane of her stomach, over her ribcage, until I’m cupping her bra.
“You fucking anyone else, Princess?” I ask her against her neck.
I hear her swallow, and I slip my fingers into her bra, teasing her hard nipple.
Fuck, I need this. It’s better for anxiety than any amount of Xanax or weed.
“Not right now,” she manages to say, and her fingers slip under my shirt, roaming over my chest, my abs.
I pinch and tug her nipple and shove my knee between her thighs. She moans again, bucking her hips into me.
“Not right now?” I question her, pulling her nipple again, and moving my mouth lower down her throat, to her collarbone, pulling her skin into my teeth.
“I—”
I already know the answer. I know who she’s spreading her legs for. I know, and right now, I don’t care. This is nothing. This will never be anything more than nothing, but I fucking need her around my dick right now.
“This will be our little secret, then,” I tell her, pulling back and gazing down at her. Her wide eyes, her hands under my shirt, her lips, just slightly parted. That freckle above her mouth.
I take a step back, and her hands fall away from me.
“Take off your shirt.”
She doesn’t move for a second. She looks confused, and I smirk at her.
“If I take it off, I’m going to rip it in two.” I lick my lips. “And I think you probably spent too much on it for that, huh?”
I see her swallow again, and then she crosses her arms and lifts her shirt, exposing the plane of her stomach, the curve of her breasts, full and heavy in her bra.
She lets her shirt fall to the floor.
“Good girl,” I tell her and watch as she squirms under my gaze, a little uncomfortable. “Now your pants.”
Hesitantly, she undoes her belt, unbuttons her jeans, and then pulls down the zipper, looking down. Slowly, she pulls them down and steps out of them, leaving her in her bra and underwear. I turn around and walk away, hearing her sharp intake of breath as I leave her against the wall, half-dressed.
I sit down on the couch and crook my finger, beckoning her to me.
She wraps her arms around herself for a moment, reminding me of Riley in her sudden shyness. But then she rolls her shoulders back, stands up straight, drops her arms, and stalks over to me, like a model on a catwalk.
She stands between my legs and I lean back, eyes drifting over every inch of her skin.
“Take off your bra.”
She hesitates, but only for a second. Then she reaches around behind her and unhooks it, slides the straps down her shoulders, and then tosses it on the floor. I don’t bother trying to keep my eyes on hers. Instead, I take in the ample flesh of her perky tits, her pink nipples erect.
I want to touch her.
But I won’t. Not yet.
“You’re not done yet.”
Her expression is nearly stoic as she keeps her gaze trained on mine, and bends down, pulling off her lacy white underwear as she does. She’s got a thing for lace, and I can’t say I mind it.
She steps out of them and it takes everything in me to keep my hands to myself and not dive them into her bare pussy.
“Come closer.”
She steps closer into my legs, as close as she can, her knees hitting the couch.
“Kiss me.”
She looks like she might not, but then she bends down, her breasts swaying as she moves, and she angles her head, her lips brushing softly against mine.
But I don’t do soft.
I grab the back of her head, pulling her closer until she stumbles, kneeling against me. I force her mouth open with my tongue, and my other hand finds her breast, palming one and rolling her nipple between my thumb and index finger. She yelps in my mouth, and I pull back, biting her lower lip.
I grip her head tighter as I lean closer, reaching around her, my hand over her ass. She stiffens, but I yank her toward me, until I can reach around to her slit, running my finger down her ass and toward her pussy, which is fucking soaked.
I laugh against her mouth. “Are you wet for me?” I ask her. “Or that other guy you’re fucking?” My lips graze her cheek. Her hands are on my shoulders, and she’s half in my lap, but half resisting.
“You,” she says, and I push a finger into her, feel her clench around me.
“Me?” I tease her, pulling my finger out of her tight pussy, running it over her clit.
She nods. “Yes,” she murmurs against my neck.
“And how is he going to feel about that?” I push two fingers into her, and she gasps, her fingers digging into my shoulder.
“I-I don’t—”
I push my fingers in and out, faster. I think she needs this as much as I do.
“You don’t know?” I move the hand in her hair around to her throat, squeezing hard enough that I push her away from me, her face inches from mine, so she’s forced to look at me.
“You don’t know?” I ask her again, meeting her eyes. She shakes her head. I push another finger into her, and her eyes flutter closed.
“Nu uh,” I tell her. “Look at me.”
She does.
“Kiss me, Ava,” I tell her. She tries, straining against my hold on her throat. But I don’t let her. She’s choking herself, trying to get her lips on mine.
I smile at her, pumping my fingers in and out of her tight pussy. “You don’t want to kiss me?” I ask her, feigning concern. I slide my fingers out, trail them up her ass, squeezing it, hard, then slapping it, harder.
She winces, but still tries to push forward again, to reach me, but again, I close my fingers around her throat, stopping her. Her face is turning pink but still she doesn’t stop trying.
“You just want my dick?” I taunt her, moving my fingers back down her wet slit. “You just want me to fuck you, is that it, Princess?”
She shakes her head and pulls away, gasping. I loosen up my hold on her throat.
“That’s okay, baby,” I tell her, standing up and yanking her around, then turning her so she’s facing the couch. I push her down on it, so she’s on all fours. My fingers twine in her hair, yanking her head up. “I just wanna fuck you too.”
One hand still in her hair, I undo my belt with the other and shove down my jeans and my boxers until they’re on the floor next to her bra. I nudge her knees apart, press my hand on her low back, arching her ass up higher.
I don’t touch her where she wants me to, only look my fill, making her anxious. Making her wait.
“That’s a nice pussy you have, baby. But I’m not sure that’s really where I wanna be right now.” I bring my finger to the puckered flesh of her ass, spreading her legs wider. She tenses, trying to look back at me, but my other hand is still in her hair.
I circle around her back entrance, waiting for her to stop me. To say no.
Instead, she puts her head down on the arm of the couch and I let go of her hair. She forces her ass up higher, arching into my touch.
I laugh. “That’s it, baby. It’ll only hurt a little.”
I run my whole hand down her slit and back up to her ass, lubricating her with herself. And then I bring my cock to her hole, spreading her ass with my fingers, gently pushing into her. I’m not really sure I’m going to fit without lube and I have no idea, judging by how fucking tight she is, if she’s ever done this before. But she spreads her legs wider, given me easier access and a better view.
I push a little harder and she whimpers, but doesn’t tell me to stop.
My cock is fucking throbbing. It’s been a few weeks since I fucked Riley a
nd that was the last time I hooked up with anyone, having to follow her and Caden here.
I push the tip in, spreading her wider still, and good God her ass is like a vice grip around my dick.
“You ever done this before?” I ask her, trying to keep my voice even.
She nods her head Yes, a gasp escaping her lips.
Fuck him, whoever he was. I wish I hadn’t fucking asked.
I bring my fingers to my mouth and wet them, tasting her as I do, and I run them around the edge of her hole, trying to lubricate her more. She moans, and I see her legs shaking.
I press in more, pausing and letting her adjust to the feel of me inside of her. She’s breathing hard, and I press further, slowly. Then a little more, and a little more, until I’m all the way in.
She’s gasping, her head thrown back, blonde hair spilling down her sexy back. I have to shove down the thoughts in my mind trying to get me to think about who else has seen her like this.
I grip her hair in my hand, hard, and start riding her, bringing my other hand around her waist, to her clit, the pad of my thumb circling her wet pussy.
“Fuck,” I groan, thrusting in and out, the sound of her ass hitting my hips growing louder and louder as I pound into her.
“Benji,” she moans, and I pull her hair harder, and my name dies on her lips. She can’t talk like this, and I rub her faster, then stop, pushing two fingers into her cunt.
“You like that?” I ask her as she clenches, groaning. “You like being filled up, don’t you, Princess? Not Daddy’s little girl anymore, are you?”
She’s panting, and I loosen my grip on her hair, wanting to hear her say my name again. To remind her this is me, and not whoever the fuck else did this with her.
She doesn’t disappoint me.
She moans my name, over and over and over, and I’m about to fucking explode when I slip my fingers out of her pussy and reach back around to her clit, wanting her to come before I do.
I slow down my pounding of her ass and I feel the climax building as every muscle in her body tenses and then she lifts her head up and moans my name again, louder than before, half-pleasure, half-pain.
When she’s done, I grab her shoulder, slamming her onto my cock over and over and over until I come, too, spilling into her, my hand going around her to her breast, grabbing a handful as I finish inside of her.
When I’m done and slowly pull out, we both collapse on the couch, me on top of her, my chest against her back. I shift my body so all of my weight isn’t directly on her.
She’s heaving beneath me and I’m breathing hard, too.
I brush her hair out of her face and kiss her neck.
“You still wanna see a movie?” I ask her quietly.
I feel her shoulders shake as she laughs beneath me. “No,” she answers, a little breathless.
I can’t stop the stupid smile on my face. “Thank fuck.”
Eight
“When are you gonna let me meet this mystery guy?” Tess teases me as we walk out of Dumont’s class.
“Well,” I start to say, knowing Benji will be in the foyer, walking Riley in. It’s been a few days since we first had sex. Fucking anal sex, because Benji doesn’t play.
We did end up seeing a movie together over the weekend, with Riley and her friend Tyler, who has gone home now. I still haven’t met her fiancé.
“Maybe um, now?” I continue to Tess.
But I hear someone clear their throat behind me.
James Dumont.
We haven’t spoken, save for texts, since right before I went to Benji’s.
I freeze, my body going rigid. I don’t want to deal with this. Just like I don’t want to deal with Mom. She’s no longer responsive and maybe I should be spending all of my free time at her bedside, but I can’t do it. I feel like when I walk in that bedroom, the life is sucked out of me, because it’s literally being sucked out of her. And I can’t watch it. Not for her. Not for Dad.
“I’ll catch up with you,” I tell Tess.
She narrows her big brown eyes, hand on her hip. “Ava,” she says, her tone full of warning, “if you don’t want to meet with—”
“No, it’s fine,” I insist, knowing Dumont is at my back and I don’t want to start anything in the classroom as students are still filing out. “Really, I’ll meet you tonight. At the gym.”
So much for seeing Benji in the hallway.
I turn around and face Dumont. He’s got his arms crossed over his chest, and he’s leaning against the podium at the front of the classroom. He looks like he hasn’t slept in a while, his grey eyes narrowed on me.
“You’ve been avoiding me,” he says quietly. The last student walks out, but the door is still open.
I look down, gripping the straps of my backpack. “I know,” I agree, “it’s just, my mom isn’t…” I force myself to meet his gaze. This isn’t me: being sheepish. I’m not doing anything wrong spending time with Benji. Benji and I are just having fun. He already told me he isn’t here for long. Told me, too, that Riley will move when she graduates next summer, to move in with her fiancé.
I’m just fooling around.
Which is exactly what I was doing with Dumont.
“I know,” Dumont says softly. “I know you’re having a hard time, Ava. But don’t shut me out.” He straightens and steps closer to me, holding his hand out to mine. His wedding band is gone.
I take his hand, aware someone could walk in at any moment and he could lose his job. I might be suspended. Expelled.
I drop his hand and clasp my own together.
“Let’s meet tomorrow night?” I ask him carefully. I don’t know if I’ll end it or if we’ll just end up fucking, but I can’t keep putting this off. Even if it’s the latter, I can at least clarify that this isn’t serious. That as happy as I am that him and his wife are officially divorced, it doesn’t change this. And it doesn’t need to. It shouldn’t. He needs to heal. He’s not in love with me, he just doesn’t want to be alone.
He nods. “I’d love that. My house?”
As if we can go to mine. As if we can go anywhere public. The last time we were together in public was the first time we met, at the bar, before he knew I was a student and I knew he was my professor. And before I knew he was fucking married.
“I’ll be there at nine,” I tell him, giving enough time for me not to blow Tess off again at the gym.
He smiles, slips his hands in his pockets, which reminds me of Benji. But nothing else about him reminds me of Benji. Benji is distant, self-assured, commanding.
Dumont is becoming needy.
“See you then.”
Then I turn to go, hurrying out the door, hoping to see Benji before I try to find Tess in the cafeteria.
I see Riley push through the doors to the English building, smiling over her shoulder, and my heart leaps as I hope to find Benji trailing in after her.
But it isn’t Benji.
It’s the guy from her phone that night, when her fiancé called her.
It’s Caden.
He’s really tall, lean but muscular, wearing a crisp white shirt that hugs his frame, and black pants, sunglasses pushed up over his thick blonde hair. He has cutting blue eyes, I can see from here, at the top of the stairs, and he’s staring at Riley as if she’s the only girl in the world.
They face each other at the bottom of the stairs, and he has his arms around her, pulling her close to him. She ducks her head, looking almost embarrassed, but it’s clear she doesn’t want him to let go.
He presses a kiss to the top of her head.
I look around for Benji. There’re students rushing in and out of the building, giving Riley and Caden plenty of room, but no Benji. My heart sinks, and I chastise myself for it.
But I steel my spine and walk down the stairs.
“Oh, hi Ava!” Riley calls after me as I walk past her and her man, thinking to give them some privacy.
I stop, arrange my features into a smile, and spin around. “H
i,” I say, nodding toward her.
“This is my fiancé, Caden,” she says, his arm slung around her, tugging her close.
He extends his hand and I take it.
“Ava,” I say.
He arches a brow. “Ah,” he muses, “you’re the one my girl was dancing with all night last week.”
I drop his hand and feel myself blushing. I don’t even know why, but there’s something about this guy that is kind of intimidating. Kind of like Benji, but Caden’s energy seems more chaotic somehow. Wrapped in a prettier bow. Almost deceptive. Whereas Benji is clearly a little demented, Caden has the whole golden boy look going on.
“Guilty,” I say in response, meeting Riley’s eyes. She’s beaming. “Well, see ya around.” I force myself not to ask after Benji. I turn to go, but Riley calls after me.
“Benji told me to tell you he’ll see you soon,” she says as I glance over my shoulder. “He’s gone back to Toronto, but he’ll be back.” She smiles, as if that should make me feel better or something.
I get it. I’m sure she knows me and Benji fucked, and she was with us at the movies, but we aren’t, like, a thing. We’ve barely known each other a week. Still, the fact he told her to tell me and didn’t just text me himself kind of pisses me off.
“Thanks,” I say, nodding again to her and turning around, storming through the doors to go find Tess.
What a fucking asshole.
I can’t help myself. By the time I slide into a booth across from Tess, I’ve sent Benji a text that says Wtf?!
I get that there’s nothing between us, no commitment. But why would he have Riley tell me that? Why the hell wouldn’t he man up and tell me himself? But then again, he doesn’t tell me shit. I still have no idea why the fuck he had a gun the other morning, barging into Riley’s apartment and then kicking me out of his. Whatever. He can keep his secrets. I’ll keep mine.
“What’s wrong?” Tess asks as I stir my salad around with my fork.
She’s got a burger in her hand and she takes a bite, chewing with her mouth closed. I reach across the table and snatch a fry from her plate.
She smirks at me, swallowing down her food before she says, “You know, you could just get your own. It’s included in your mean plan,” she teases me, glancing forlornly at my salad.