She hesitated. “Why are you being such a jerk?”
“I told you. I am a jerk. But that doesn’t mean that we can’t have a hot fuck. That’s what you wanted, isn’t it?”
“I…”
“Come here,” he demanded.
And like an idiot, she did. She climbed back onto the bed, watching his slight smile. “You know, the whole time I taught, I never slept with a student. Not once. But if anyone could’ve tempted me, it would’ve been you. Look at you.” He reached a hand out to one heavy breast and weighed it in his hand. “You’re just my type, all fresh and clean like the girl next door, but with big tits, long legs and a sinful mouth, plus this long, long hair.” He ran his fingers through it. “All soft and smooth and beautiful.” He rolled over on top of her and held her hands above her head, kissing her softly, nipping at her lips until she felt lulled again.
“Wait here,” he whispered. She closed her eyes as he got up, not wanting to break the sensual spell, and when he came back, he’d brought something with him.
She started as she realized he was tying her hands above her head. “What the…?”
“Shhh,” he soothed, using a length of red silk to tie her hands together and then tie them back to the bed post. He kneed her legs open wide as he did so. “Shhh, you’re my little prisoner tonight. Does that scare you?”
She felt his hard cock, heavy against her stomach, and it didn’t. It excited her. “No,” she said.
“Good. Because it’s all about pleasure between us, isn’t it, honey?”
She nodded. She felt pleasure, tremendous pleasure as he moved against her, smoothing her long hair, kissing along her randomly, a shoulder here, a palm there, an eyelid and then the tip of one breast. All the while his cock lay heavy and sheathed against her hip, her belly, signaling he felt pleasure too.
“I’d like to tie your legs open, too, but I couldn’t find another scarf.” His hands palmed the inside of her thighs. “But you pretend I’ve tied them open, okay? Will you do that?”
She moaned as he pushed her thighs even wider still. “Put your heels down, just like that, and stay spread open for me.”
She obeyed. He fingered her exposed pussy, spreading the moisture from her depths to her clit. “You tasted so good down here. Do you know that? So good that when I was eating your pussy I felt like I’d died and gone to heaven. Is that trite? Do you expect more from me, honey? Some kind of clever, well-written patter?”
“No,” she moaned.
“No? So what’s this thesis going to say? I’m a hack? A washed-up old hottie?”
She opened her eyes. “What?”
And he was suddenly, satisfyingly on top of her. The weight of his chest, his legs against hers, struck her as so unaccountably right. And when he slid his sheathed cock into her cunt, she groaned. Even though, as instructed, she held her thighs wide open, he ensured she continued to do so by placing one palm on each of her inner thighs and pressing down. “Wider,” he murmured. “That’s right. Spread your legs for me so I can fuck you.”
With her hands tied above her head, she could not hold on to him or try to control the pacing. He pulled his cock out of her slowly and then paused, right on the brink of re-entry, holding back until she could have cried out for the lack of it. Then he quickly rammed his cock back in and held himself still, deep within her. Sucking in her breath at the pleasure, she felt almost unbearably full with him until he started to move again. This time it was with quick hard jabs of his cock, some shallow, some deep until she was writhing helplessly underneath him, yanking at her binds.
Fucking her with that wild, uncontrollable rhythm, he taunted, “Why are you struggling? You’re so wet. You like this, don’t you?”
And it was true. Somehow the dominance of it spoke to something within her and though she yanked at her bonds, it might have been to assure herself they were there and not to try to escape them.
She moaned and he relinquished his grip on her open thighs only to slide his hands roughly up her body, along her hips and over her heaving breasts with their hard, sensitized nipples. She felt each touch of his fingers, each casual caress with intense pleasure that only heightened the pleasure she felt at his cock thrusting between her legs. When his hands finished their journey up her body, he fisted them in her hair and his mouth took hers. His kisses were hard, like his fucking.
With one impossibly deep lunge of his cock, they both came, his hands slipping beneath her ass at the last minute as she shuddered, hugging her to him.
When they drifted down from the climax, he pulled out of her and peeled off the condom, throwing it to the floor. Without a word, he got up and went into the bathroom. Perplexed, she pulled at the red scarf, but for all their play, he had tied it pretty tightly and her writhing had only tightened it. Now that their lovemaking was done, though, she felt exposed and vulnerable, and oddly unsettled about the random things he’d said to her before and during this last bout of passion.
“Can you untie me please?” she called out over the sound of the running water in the bathroom.
He came back in, incongruously brushing his teeth, a task he paused in only to remark, “You know, I never went in much for kink. But I have to admit the sight of you tied with red silk is strangely moving. I wish I had some nipple clamps or something.”
Then he went back to brushing his teeth, wandering back into the bathroom.
Jesus, what had she gotten herself into?
She didn’t know whether to be relieved or apprehensive when after a moment, he came back in, sans toothbrush. Watching her from the side of the bed, arms folded across his wide chest, he said, “How many guys have you fucked?”
“What?”
“Okay, narrow it down to profs. How many professors have you fucked?”
If this was some kind of variation on the student-sleeps-with-professor fantasy, the edge of hostility in his voice kept her from enjoying it. The best defense being a good offense, she stopped struggling against her silken binds, and said, “I never picked up a puritanical streak in your writing, but I’ll have to go back and look closer. Clearly, it’s there.”
He smirked and then straddled her, low on her thighs, sitting back on his heels so she didn’t take his full weight. “If you think a writer puts everything of himself into his work, you’ve got a lot to learn.”
“Right. Like how someone I could have admired for so long could turn out to be such a jerk in real life.”
“I’m disappointed a student of your caliber should have such a limited vocabulary. That’s about the tenth time you’ve used the word jerk to describe me. Don’t you have anything more varied?”
“When you find something that works, stick with it, I always say.”
He leaned up and untied her binds. Admiring his flat abs and defined pecs as he did so, given the context, was so wrong. But damn it, she couldn’t help herself. When her wrists were free, she started to use her palms to lever herself up and out of bed, and he leaned back off her to let her do so. Or so she mistakenly thought. Starting to scoot off of the bed, she was startled when he yanked her back, flipping her face down, and those damn silken ties came into play again.
Struggling didn’t do much good, so she didn’t bother as he tied her hands behind her this time.
“Have you become a serial killer or something during your recent sabbatical?”
“It’s not a sabbatical.” He pulled her up on her knees, coming up behind her on his knees as well, so that she was practically sitting on his lap, faced away from him, hands tied as securely behind her back as they had been moments before to the bed posts. “I’m through. All washed up. Haven’t you heard that?”
“No, I hadn’t. About the serial killer part…?”
He laughed, so close she could almost feel it in her ear. With one knee, he kicked hers farther open, so that she straddled his lap. His fingers came up to skim her shoulders lightly, then moved forward to run the backs of his hands along her breasts. “I’m going
to kill you with pleasure so you can go back to your campus and give a really good accounting of yourself.”
She shook her head.
“Oh, sorry. Kill you with pleasure is kind of trite too. See? I’ve lost my spark of genius.”
His light touch wandered down to her hip bones, then farther in. She stirred, feeling him stir as well against her backside.
“Are you mad because you slept with me?” she murmured even as he petted her. “Was that some kind of betrayal of whatever self-destructive creed you’ve got going for yourself?”
“Don’t psychoanalyze me, please. Save that for your thesis.” He bit the lobe of her ear lightly, as his fingers found her clit again.
Much more of this and she was going to be numb. And yet, as he rubbed lightly, gently, she found herself turned on again. If she had ever been turned off, that is. And incredibly, his cock was hardening against her bottom. Suddenly, the position he had put them in had slightly menacing connotations.
Not that her accusing him of being a serial killer hadn’t had menacing connotations. But she hadn’t been serious about that. This, she didn’t know.
Oh, she hoped he wasn’t thinking of…
As if telepathic, he dipped his middle finger into the wetness between her legs and then brought it around swiftly to between her cheeks and pressed with the tip of his finger into an entrance that still was virginal. She tensed up, causing him to laugh, though he didn’t remove his finger, the tip of it embedded there now, feeling foreign but, she had to admit, sensual as well.
“What’s the matter? Is this a bridge too far?”
“Yes,” she said firmly.
Chapter Four
Liam’s finger still in her sweet little asshole, he wound his other hand around to her cunt, knowing she would still be wet despite her apparent resistance to the idea of anal sex. He thrust two fingers inside her and felt her clamp around them.
“You’re awfully tight for somebody who’s so experienced.”
“How do you know how experienced I am?”
“Well, a girl who fucks a stranger as soon as she meets him doesn’t seem like she’d be too discriminating.”
He worked her even as he needled and her hips started to move. Damn her, she was so fucking sexy. When she was giving him head, despite what he’d said, he’d had to recite lines from Shakespeare mentally just to keep from coming with every soft, wet touch of her mouth.
Her hands tied behind her back now, she was helpless, completely open to him. He flicked his thumb against her clit as he plumbed both her entryways and she moaned.
“You weren’t a stranger. I did know you,” she whispered.
He stopped abruptly. “Like hell you did. You only know what Friedman told you.”
“Friedman? Professor Freidman?”
He pulled his fingers out of her. Enough foreplay with this conniving little seductress. His cock was rock hard again and he would use her for her intended purpose. He fumbled for another condom, donned it and, placing one hand firmly on the top of her back, pushed down until her sweet ass was in the air, the red silk of her binding trailing practically between her cheeks.
“What are you doing?” He could hear the distress in her voice. “I don’t want to…I never have…”
“Relax. I’m not going to fuck you up the ass.” He kicked her knee farther out and brought her hips up to him, taking his cock in hand and positioning himself at the hole he really wanted anyway. “I’ll just take this sweet pussy again, since you so nicely offered it to me.”
He thrust inside, where she was so warm and wet and tight. For a minute, he pretended she was who she had claimed to be, just a girl who had wandered in from the storm. Not… He blocked the thought and pulled out slowly, resting his hand still on the top of her back, feeling the silky-smooth skin there. The friction of her pulling him back was so incredible, he closed his eyes, and his hands wandered down to where her hands were tied.
He fingered the bindings. “Does this hurt you?” he whispered.
She thrust her hips back, taking him in aggressively, and he sucked in his breath.
“No,” she said, her cheek resting against the coverlet, her ass in the air and her warm, wet cunt welcoming him. He thrust again, putting his palms on the bed to give him leverage, leaning over her, fucking her hard now.
As turned on as she was, there was something so very, very missing here. Stunning herself, she whimpered, “Stop.”
She had barely whispered it, and with the way he was pounding at her, she was surprised he even heard it, let alone responded. But he did.
He stopped.
Both of them were breathing hard, his cock still throbbing in her, her breasts still heavy and so wet between her thighs she was probably staining the sheets. She said nonetheless, “Stop this. I don’t want this.”
If he hesitated, it was only for a second. Then he pulled out.
Her face buried in the coverlet, she did not look at him. Not yet. “Untie me.”
His hands as he did so were matter of fact and she could hear his breathing had slowed. As had her own.
She climbed out of bed. Staring down at him as he lay back against the pillows, she rubbed her wrists, which did sort of hurt. “I guess I made a mistake thinking you could be anything like your writing.”
“Yeah? And I guess I made a mistake falling for some cockamamie story about you stumbling on to this cabin and then obligingly screwing you ten minutes after you got your foot in the door.”
She shook her head in disgust, although whether it was at herself or him, or both of them, she didn’t know. “God, you’re paranoid. You know that?”
“Come on. Let’s get back on track here, Mary.”
She didn’t bother to correct him. He knew her fucking name. She stalked into the other room, finding her tee-shirt and her jeans and slipping them both on, not bothering with the underwear. To her astonishment, he followed her out and leaned against the door frame casually. His cock was still hard and covered, and when she looked at it, he said, “We don’t want to waste one, do we?”
She shook her head, grabbing her still-damp boots. Where the hell were those knee socks?
“Come on, though. Let’s see some good old-fashioned work for your grade. Now that you got your clothes back on, it seems to me they came off a little too quickly last time. My fault, I know. But consequently I didn’t get the proper opportunity to thoroughly enjoy the view. So how about you strip for me?”
“Strip?” she repeated incredulously. She didn’t know why she was bothering to continue to converse with this asshole, but he was being so outrageous and her temper was rising so high that she couldn’t stop herself.
“Yeah. I know you’re a bright girl and all that. I know you’re bound for glory and wouldn’t condescend to bare your tits for a living, but let’s pretend you have to take a job in a strip club to pay your tuition instead of Mommy and Daddy footing the bill.”
“For your information, my parents didn’t pay for my schooling. I worked my way through. Waiting tables, not stripping, just for the record.”
“Whatever. I couldn’t give a shit. You’re trying to interview me, not vice versa. Remember. So before I pour out all my pathetic little secrets, why don’t you shake that cute ass of yours and keep me turned on?”
“Fuck your interview.”
“What a dirty little mouth you have, Mary.”
“Clarie,” she spat out, not able to stop herself.
“Mary, Clarie, whatever. Anyway, you didn’t want an interview. We both know what you wanted. You wanted to screw the subject of your thesis so you could titillate all your literary pals back home. You fucked the once-promising, washed-up Liam Conner after dissecting his work to win that most coveted of academic accolades, the PHD, from one of his worst enemies. Fine. Mission accomplished. I hope you didn’t need a videotape of it or anything, but I’m sure your powers of narrative are pretty good. That story about getting lost here in a snowstorm. Nice.”
&
nbsp; “Paranoid,” she muttered, grabbing her bag.
“Professor Friedman sent you a text, by the way. Be sure to text him back with all the details.”
“Professor Friedman? Don’t be ridiculous. Why would he?” She fumbled for her phone without meaning to, in part because the text alert was buzzing again. She read the message, and the one before. A. Friedman. Ally.
You’re welcome for the directions. Did you bag that washed-up hottie yet? I want details. I promise I can swing a better grade for you if you spill.
She looked up at Liam.
“Are you fucking Friedman too? Because if you are, I have to say he hasn’t taught you anything about giving head. Tell him I would’ve expected more. But we’re both older now. He’s probably not trying so hard anymore. Back when I knew him, he was quite the Romeo. Or so Kate told me.”
Kate? “Your wife?”
“Shut up and get the fuck out.”
He wrenched the condom off his cock, incongruously still hard.
“Don’t flatter yourself,” he said as he undoubtedly realized she was noticing his erection. “Now it’s had some pussy again, it’d be clamoring for the dog next door probably.”
“A. Friedman is Ally Friedman, my friend. Not Alex Friedman. Not Professor Friedman, his daughter.”
She didn’t know why she was explaining this to him. She glanced at the second message. So, come on, did you like the route I gave you to avoid the construction? LOL. I’m hoping you stopped for directions at that cute little cabin right off the dead end road you ended up on. If you didn’t, call me and I’ll tell you what you missed! You won’t fucking believe it.
“Ally Friedman is my best friend. My very obnoxious best friend, who majored in math and thinks my literary pursuits are absurd because she secretly hates her father ever since she found out he slept with practically her whole class when she went to NYU.” She looked up at Liam. “But not me. Never me. Professor Friedman’s a creep. Even if he is my thesis adviser and the foremost scholar on, well, on you.”
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