by Jordyn White
We go over the edge together. He pulses and fills me as I cry out, still tucked into his neck. He groans in my ear, pumping me hard, pushing my orgasm higher and harder. I claw at his back as waves of pleasure wrack my body, and I let out a long, high cry.
At last I’m released and he slows, satisfied too.
Breathing hard, our bodies slowly relax and our movements become soft and unhurried.
He brings his lips to mine and presses a firm, lingering kiss on them. He pulls up slightly and looks me in the eye. This does nothing to calm down my breathing. Looking at him gets my heart fluttering. He kisses me again, and I sink into it. We gently angle our hips and press into each other again. Soft aftershocks ripple through my body.
When he pulls away and strokes my cheek softly, I look into his eyes and that’s the moment I know.
We’re all in now.
Chapter 11
I’m sitting at the back of Shane’s class, my first class since our encounter at the pool (not to mention last night). We stayed in his room talking and caressing each other until two in the morning, having sex twice more before I finally tore myself away and drove home.
As for the matter of him being my professor, we lay down some ground rules. To avoid any suspicion, we’ll look at one another as little as possible (we both fear our eyes will give us away) and there will be no chatting before or after class.
We’re now communicating via text—frequently, as it turns out—but we have each other in our phones under false names. After I picked out his name (Apollo, sexiest Greek god in the canon), he stuck with the same theme and dubbed me Aphrodite, goddess of love.
He concludes his lecture and opens things up for discussion. As usual, I’m trying to stay out of things and as usual, I can’t resist the temptation to pipe in. I’m a nerd, I know. I can’t help myself.
After making my comment, however, Shane says, “Does that conclusion stand up to scrutiny? Remember the common fallacies we’ve discussed.” He then goes on to explain, in the gentle way he would with any student, where I had gone wrong.
I admit, I have a few different emotions when he does this.
On the one hand, it stings to be corrected by him in front of the class. I’d be lying if I said it didn’t.
But on the other hand, after he finishes explaining things, I understand them better and enjoy the sensation of learning something new, as I would have in any class.
It takes several minutes to get things worked out in my head, while the class carries on with their discussion. By the time he dismisses class, I’m over it. I wonder if he maybe is feeling weird about things too, because rather than clapping his hands and saying “Alright!” like he usually does, he simply tells us to have a good day and starts packing his bag.
It takes an epic amount of self-control to walk out of his classroom without talking to him.
I haven’t even hit the stairs when my phone dings.
Apollo: Sorry.
Me: For what?
Apollo: I don’t know. Correcting you.
Is it bad that I feel comforted that it bothered him too? But I’m okay now and truly don’t want him to feel he has to teach me any differently.
I text back, Isn’t that your job? To correct students? And look sexy?
He texts a smiley face.
So cute.
My phone dings again.
Apollo: I had to work like hell not to undress you with my eyes.
Me: Too bad. You would’ve seen the lacy panties I’m wearing.
I make it out of the building and halfway across the quad with no reply. I wonder if I went too far. My phone dings at last.
Apollo: I’d like to see those.
Me: I’d like to see you take them off me. Eight o’clock?
Apollo: Can you make it six?
I smile. After the long evening I had last night, I really should take tonight to work on my biochemistry project. But... it’s not due until Monday. I have four whole days. I can work on it tomorrow.
Me: I’ll be there.
It’s nearly five-thirty and I’m still in my bedroom getting ready. After spending the last five minutes rummaging through my delicates, I finally settle on a sexy pair of white lace high-cut panties and a bra. I check my appearance in the full-length mirror, turning to check out my rear. It’s mostly exposed, accented by the pretty fabric. It looks good.
Right?
Maybe I should go for the red ones. Remembering they’re in my basket, which is still in the laundry room, I head through the apartment to retrieve them. No one’s home, so it’s not a big deal. I go through the living room and kitchen and into the laundry room. I dig around in my basket for my red panties, but by the time I’ve pulled them out, I’ve changed my mind again.
The white ones.
I pause, looking at the reds in my hand, then throw them back into the basket. Definitely the whites.
I go back through the kitchen and into the living room, screaming when I see Jack parked on the couch.
“Ahhh!” He pinches his eyes shut and covers his face with a pillow. “Why are you naked in the kitchen?”
“I’m not naked!” I hustle across the living room and down the hall. “Why didn’t you announce yourself?”
“Because I didn’t think you’d be naked in the kitchen!” he hollers as I slam my bedroom door.
Freaking Jack, I think as I finish getting dressed. Once I’m properly covered, I go into the living room. Normally I would sit next to him, but this time I go for the chair. I sink into it, crossing my arms over my chest.
He glances at me.
I look back.
We see each other’s scowling faces and start laughing.
“Thanks for traumatizing me,” he says.
“Thanks a lot!” I say indignantly.
“That was like seeing my baby sister in her lingerie.”
“Oh, whatever. You’re only four months older than me.”
“Four months and sixteen days. Get over here and snuggle me, baby sis. I don’t come here for the TV, I come for female attention.”
As if he doesn’t get enough of that.
“Whatever. You come here for the snacks.”
“Yeah, that too.” He grins. “Got anything good?”
“Chloe made brownies last night.”
He scrambles off the couch and disappears into the kitchen.
I head back to my room, laughing.
“Hey, where’d you go?” he hollers.
“I have class.”
“At this hour?”
“I mean lab. I have lab.”
I come out fully dressed with my high heels on to find him back on the couch, polishing off a brownie. He’s giving me an appraising look. “Lab, huh? In heels and lingerie?”
“It’s not lingerie!”
“Whatever you say, babe.” He licks his fingers and flips on the TV. “But believe me, any guy who sees that is going to call it lingerie.”
Grabbing my purse, I don’t let him see me grinning as I walk out the door. I can only hope Jack’s right.
For the second time in two days, I pull up Shane Brook’s drive and park by the side of the garage. Once again, as I’m crossing the yard, he comes onto the patio and waits for me. He’s wearing jeans, along with a casual slim-fitting shirt that makes me want to take a bite out of him.
His eyes slide down my body, taking in the low-cut blouse that accents my cleavage, the flowing summer skirt that stops just above my knees, and my long, shapely legs.
We smile at one another. When I meet him on the porch he pulls me into his arms and gives me a deep kiss. Now this is a proper greeting.
He pulls away, my blood pounding, and takes my hand to lead me inside.
Once again I’m greeted by the smell of something delicious.
“Wine?” he asks as we enter the kitchen.
“Yes, please.”
He leaves me at the island and grabs a bottle that is, sadly, already on the counter. I was hoping to se
e him bend over to retrieve it from the wine-cooler again.
“What’s cooking?”
“Lasagna. I hope you like it.”
“I’m sure I will.”
He brings over our glasses. We clink them gently together—once again foregoing the toast—and drink, our eyes locked on each other.
He sets down his glass, smiles, and heads toward the refrigerator.
I’m about to settle onto the bar stool when he abruptly turns back towards me and says, “Oh hell.”
He pulls me into a kiss. His hand is in my hair and his arm is tight against my waist. Recovering from my surprise, I eagerly kiss him back, sinking in his arms.
Oh yes, this is definitely more like it.
I’m thinking he only wanted to kiss me, and maybe that’s what he thought at first too, but the intensity of our kissing goes up one notch after another until only a few minutes later we’re in full-on make out mode. He rubs his hand down the exposed skin of my breast, slipping underneath the fabric of my blouse and bra to cup my bare nipple. I snake my arms up his back, under his shirt.
His hard desire digs into me. I want to taste him.
He lifts the hem of my blouse and I raise my arms so he can pull it over my head. As my blouse crumples to the floor, he eyes my white lacy bra. Or maybe I should say lingerie, judging by the look on his face. “You look so delicious in white,” he says thickly.
I slip my skirt over my hips and let that fall to the floor as well.
His eyes take in my lacy panties as I kick my skirt out of the way with one high-heeled foot.
He makes to come toward me, but I press on his chest. I couldn’t stop him if I wanted to, truly. He’s too strong for that. But he stays in place, an amused half grin on his face. Giving him a sultry look, I unbutton the top button of his shirt.
He watches me, his hands gently caressing my shoulders, my arms, my breasts as I work my way down, one button after another. His shirt is slowly falling open to reveal the muscled chest underneath.
When I release the last button, I place both hands flat against his ribbed abs and rub up the length of his chest. I tease both hard nipples between my finger and thumb and he lets out a breath, gripping my upper arms with his hands.
I run my hands over his shoulders, easing his shirt off and down his arms until that, too, is on the floor. Running my hands and eyes greedily over his body I lean over and kiss his chest slowly, tasting him with my tongue. I work my way to one hard nipple and gently flick it with my tongue. He exhales sharply and grips my arms more firmly. I slide to the other side and do the same thing, enjoying his reaction.
I slowly ease myself into a squatting position, trailing kisses on his stomach along the way.
His bulge is directly in front of me now. I look up and give him an evil grin as I unbutton his fly and slowly unzip his jeans. He’s looking down at me, mouth slightly parted. One hand is resting on my arm and the other is lightly playing with my hair.
I return my attention to my task, pulling the waistband of his briefs so his erect cock can spring free. Squatting with my knees spread, my clit pulsing, I wrap one hand around him as I slowly run my tongue up his massive shaft.
He lets out his breath in one long sigh.
I reach the head and wrap my mouth and tongue around it. He already feels hard enough to burst. As I slide down his shaft, taking his fullness into my mouth, he groans and grips my arm tightly. He grabs my hair, pushing me onto him as he slightly thrusts himself toward me. I take him in, sucking and working him with my tongue as I come back to the head.
I run my tongue around the tip, giving extra attention to the cleft underneath, before sliding back down again.
“Good lord, woman.”
I continue sucking and pulling on him, the ache in my core spiking every time I slide my mouth down his shaft.
He’s so tight I think he’s about to come in my mouth. Maybe he was, because he grabs me firmly by both shoulders and pulls me to my feet.
He kisses me hungrily, backing us up until we reach the dining table behind us. His hands are all over me and he’s kissing my neck, my stomach—the bra goes flying—my breasts.
He yanks down my panties, grabs me around the hips, and sets me on the edge of the table. Spreading my thighs open his mouth dives into the lips of my aching sex.
I gasp and arch my back, falling back on my elbows.
He’s licking and sucking me so masterfully the room starts to tilt. I fall all the way back, helpless to do more than hang onto his forearms as he laps me into a heated stupor.
I’m aching to feel him inside me. “I want you.”
I don’t think I can hang on much longer. I’m throbbing so strongly I can’t believe I haven’t gone over, yet I’m climbing even higher.
“I need you now. Please.”
His tongue darts over my bud, demanding I climax. He thrusts two fingers inside me and I comply, crying out as I’m shattered again and again, my heels shaking as my body is consumed with pleasure.
I grab onto his hair, clutching him to me as his tongue skates over my pulsing clit. My body convulses repeatedly until at last I release him and sink back, my legs dangling helplessly over the side of the table.
Well, hello to you, too, I think. I’m panting, trying to catch my breath, barely aware of my surroundings.
He grabs my wrists and pulls me up. He’s standing now and his jeans are off—when did he manage that?—and I get a glimpse of his hard cock—when the hell did he put a condom on??—before he lifts me and starts to carry me.
“You still want me?” he whispers thickly.
“Yes,” I breathe. My legs are wrapped around his waist and I’m pressing myself against his erection, wishing he were inside me already.
He grabs my ass with both hands and angles my hips. I feel the tip of his cock just at my entrance, then he presses me down and I slide all the way down his shaft.
I moan, clinging to him, his cock inside me as he’s still carrying me. As soon as we’re on the carpeted floor of the living room, we sink to the floor, his strong arms keeping me in position so we stay connected.
I lie back and he’s soon on top of me. I’m full of him and don’t know if I’m tingling and coming down from the high of an orgasm or aching and building toward another. Two more thrusts and it’s clear. I open myself wider, hungry for him.
“Oh yes.”
He presses his mouth on mine, and I hang on to his shoulders and back, which are as firm and tense as his cock. I feel him building to his release and I’m riding the wave with him. The harder he gets, the higher I go.
His hot breath comes against my ear. “Do you want it hard or soft?” Then he demonstrates the difference. He slams inside me, conjuring powerful pulses of sensation. As I’m about to come, he slows down, caressing me so luxuriously I think he’s torturing me on purpose. I’m a frustrated puddle of molten desire, trembling with want.
“Hard or soft?” he whispers again, bringing my earlobe into his mouth.
Uhhhhh....
He teases me again, giving me both then demanding I choose. Yes. Both. However you want.
Hard, then slow. Caressing, then dominating. If he keeps this up all he’ll have to do to make me come is breathe on me. “Tell me.”
“Hard,” I gasp.
His strong arms flex around me and he takes me vigorously. I cry out and lights burst behind my closed lids as I come at last. I’m torn apart with pleasure. Seconds later, his thrusts are erratic as he fills me. I cry out, gently biting his firm shoulder as I contract repeatedly, legs trembling.
At last we relax, our sweat-soaked bodies loosely wrapped around each other.
I’m floating. Nothing could touch me. Never again. I look at him and give what I’m sure is a dopey smile. He chuckles and gives me a kiss before rolling off and collapsing onto his back.
My body feels cold with his absence, but he pulls me to him until my chest and stomach are pressed against his side. Still panting, I rest my
head on his shoulder and heavily throw one knee over his leg.
“That was so much better than waiting until after dinner,” I say.
He laughs and I weakly hug his chest. My whole body is limp.
The oven timer starts to buzz. He groans and I don’t move. Neither does he. He snakes his hand into my hair and gives me a kiss. With the timer buzzing in the background, his tongue caresses mine and I am officially the happiest woman on the planet. He takes all I willingly give him for another full minute before finally giving up and walking his naked ass into the kitchen to turn off the timer.
“Don’t burn anything important,” I call after him, still grinning like a dopey fool.
Chapter 12
After a delicious dinner, which we ate outside again, we moved indoors to talk on the couch. At first we simply sat next to each other, but we’ve since rearranged. My head’s in his lap and he’s gently playing with my hair. We’re fully dressed again, but my legs are outstretched and my bare feet are resting on the arm of the couch.
Our conversation has circled around to the books he lent me just a few days ago. That afternoon in his office feels like a million years ago, instead of only two days.
“Have you had a chance to look at them yet?” he asks easily.
I’ve been too busy seducing and fucking my professor, I think, but I answer with a simple, “No.”
He smiles, unconcerned. He looks about as relaxed as I feel. “The second one I gave you is my favorite.”
“What do you like about it?”
He watches his hand as he runs his fingers through my long hair, from root to tip and back again.
“The author’s arguments are very clear and well-grounded, from a philosophical viewpoint. So there’s that. But, I find it comforting as a human being. Even after I lost my faith as a teen...”
“You used to believe in God?”
He nods. “My parents don’t attend church, except for holidays sometimes. My grandparents are pretty religious. Baptist. But yes, I believed when I was younger, until... I just couldn’t any more. It really doesn’t make a lot of sense to me. But I still wanted to be a good person. I had this notion, thanks to my grandfather, that atheists were evil deviants.” Shane gives me an amused smile. “He doesn’t get out much.”