by Ginny Glass
The glow in those wickedly verdant eyes was like a beacon, even in the dimness. She opened her mouth and drew his fingertips in, rolled her tongue over the pads before closing her lips together in a long, deep draw. He hissed into the softly droning humidity of the laundry room. She pulled back and let his fingers loose with a wet pop.
“In the dark, there’s a voice.” Nora dragged Jarod’s damp fingers down her neck, tipping her chin back and closing her eyes, giving life to her fantasy. “And the voice says, ‘Nora, tell me what makes you feel good.’”
He was silent, but his hips still brushed hers, his erection still grazed her belly. She could feel the rapid rise and fall of the plane of his stomach under the starched fabric of his shirt. She heard his thick swallow, thrilled as he started making slow, soft circles with his thumb at her raging pulse point. “You make me feel good, Jarod.”
“I’ve just started, sweetheart,” he growled. “Tell me what you want.”
She wanted to crawl under his skin. She wanted to claw at his back. She wanted him inside of her three seconds ago. She wanted him. His lips parted hers, the strong flavor of mint and male stealing every thought. He kissed her more desperately than he had by her car. Even though the mouth on hers was the same, the depth of the man was different—James, her faceless lover, her sexual Spartacus, was in reality Jarod, the man who’d courted her like a fair maiden in some long-lost chivalric tale. One claimed her body, the other her heart. Both were him.
Warm palms slid up her back, unhooked her bra and tossed the scrap of lace away. His thumbs glided across her taut nipples. It wasn’t enough. She wanted skin on skin. She reached for him, blind with need and sightless in the dark. Trembling fingers opened the buttons on his shirt.
“You, too. Off.”
Nora stabbed her tongue into his mouth, sank her hands into his hair, rubbed her breasts across his chest. Sparse, crisp hairs rasped on her hardened nipples and she sucked in a sharp breath. His hands roamed her waist, cupped her ass, lifted her against the hard ridge of his erection. His groan started an answering flame low in her stomach. She buried her face in his neck, reveling in the heady newness of physical lust, safe in the familiar scent of Jarod.
His voice flowed over her in a rich, succulent whisper. “Every phone conversation we had, every time you came, I wanted to be there.” He fisted her red plaid skirt, dragging it over her thighs until the moist air licked at moister flesh. “I wanted to suck your fingers clean and make your next orgasm one that I had given you with my own hands. I want to taste you everywhere, Nora.”
Nora had never felt so hungry, so desperate. She wanted to drive him as crazy as he had driven her, time and time again. No other lover had made her this rabid, made her want to devour him in every way possible. She tore at whatever she could reach, ripping open his jeans, yanking at the soft boxer briefs. Thick, hard cock filled her hand and he thrust into her palm. She dropped to the tile and opened her mouth.
Silken skin stretched tight over rigid flesh and she swirled her tongue across the broad head. The thick length grew as she stroked and sucked, taking him as deep as she could. Harsh, gasping breaths raged above her and his hands fisted in her hair. A strangled cry split the air. “Nora, sweetheart, oh damn.”
Power washed over her, mimicked the rustling machines with the steamy intensity. All the teases through the phone lines crashed into this moment. She used her lips, her tongue, her hands to give back to him what he had given her—pleasure she’d never imagined. The pulse in his cock entranced her and she ran a stiffened tongue along the jerking beat. His thighs tensed and a tortured groan vibrated off the concrete block walls.
She cupped his balls and his grip tightened her hair, stopping her. A strangled laugh burst from him. “Whoa. That bite-my-thigh-while-I-come thing, I want a rain check on that. Right now I want something else.”
She practically crawled up him, linked her arms around his neck. Their mouths met with a wet, hot, near-violent fervor. He hauled her to the folding table. One brush of his hand sent her backpack crashing to the floor. The metal was cool and hard under her ass, but Nora was boiling, consumed with the need to possess him and be possessed by him.
Jarod caught a bare nipple between his teeth, tugging gently before sucking it to a hard, stinging point. Desire coiled deep inside her. Her head fell back with a sob. The slow trek of his hands up her thighs surged an electric current straight to her clit. With a finger hooked on each side of her panties, Jarod tugged the damp fabric down her legs. Hot frayed breath misted over her tingling breasts.
“Every time I talked dirty to you, every time you came for me, I wondered what you tasted like. Spread your legs for me, sweetheart. Let me taste you.”
Authority and lust poured from him. The command parted her thighs. He ringed her ankles in his strong, slender fingers and pushed until her heels rested on the table.
She’d bought her knee-high black boots on a whim, after one of James’s phone calls. They had made her feel just like he had then, just like he was making her feel now—sexy, powerful. Nora’s eyes closed and she let him spread her knees wider, shove her skirt to her belly. “I love these boots, this skirt, just like a naughty schoolgirl uniform.”
“Have a schoolgirl fantasy, do you?”
“Later, another time, oh the games we will play, sweetheart.”
The promise drove her nearer to madness. A quake started in her belly, a furious need to submit to his instruction. His touch parted the slick folds of her pussy. Those long maestro fingers danced over her clit, like playing a piano. Her body vibrated to his tune. He delved deep inside her and sighed, “So soft, so wet for me.”
He feathered his mouth down the slope of her thigh, inching closer to her drenched center. A whimper pealed from her lips. “Wait, I wasn’t kidding. No one has ev—”
He licked her once, his tongue flat and soft. Back arched, Nora gasped. His rough velvet tongue traced each inch of her pussy, fueling the ache deep inside. Her hands shot into his hair as he stroked one broad lick all the way up to the hard nub of her clit. He skimmed with his even white teeth over the hard knot. She jerked. He did it again. And again until her hips bucked. The sweet seal of his mouth kissed, suckled and nipped. The simmering hunger snarling in her blood crouched, poised to leap over that peak. He pulled away.
The wolfish grin shone bright even in the dimness and his sin-rich chuckle spiraled through her. “Not yet.”
An indignant cry died on her lips as he crawled onto the table, braced over her. Denim slid down his hips as he reached in his back pocket. The tip of his cock trailed along her thigh. Greedily she reached, needing him inside, wanting him to fill her emptiness. Foil crinkled and the warm air split with a sharp tear. He wasn’t an idle man, her professor, because as he rolled the condom on, he leaned down and sucked her stiff nipple with a voracious force.
“Now,” she panted.
Jarod stopped. One hand wrapped around his cock, the other bracing himself over her, he looked straight into her eyes. “Tell me what you want.”
“You.” Nora ran her hands under his opened shirt, around his waist, pulling, urging him closer. His heart pounded under his ribs. He brushed her mouth with a whisper-soft kiss.
“Who am I, Nora? Tell me who I am.”
She knew who he was, but he needed to hear her say it. The surprising vulnerability wedged a sweet softness into her heart. Nibbling on his lip, she smiled into his kiss.
“Jarod, my Jarod, my naughty professor.”
A sigh of relief carried his mouth to hers. A hard, bruising kiss warmed her tongue. He leaned to the left and grabbed the edge of the window shade. The ancient stained vinyl clattered to the ground and yellowy light from the quad sliced across them. Patterns of golden glow caressed his mussed hair, his pale eyes, the leanly muscled torso levered between her legs. The sculpted lines of his cheeks rose with his grin.
“No more hiding. I want to see you. I want you to look at me when I fuck you, as I make you mine
.”
Nora wanted to be his. Wicked carnal need wrapped her legs around his thighs. The rounded head of his cock nudged her. She held her breath.
“Slow, right?” he reassured her.
She arched her back as he pressed inside, thick, hard and stretching. Bit by bit, slow and sensual, the entry forced a groan deep in her throat. “Mmm, yes, so good, so full.”
“Want more?” he growled, his face stark with pleasure.
“All of you.”
“Yes!” A hiss sped from his lips and he thrust deep.
Her hips vaulted to his, her fingers digging into his skin. She never wanted to let him go. His eyes slid closed. God, he felt good. Nothing had ever felt better. Until the second stroke.
His voice came, the phantom edge that now had a hot, hard body attached to it. “‘My true love for you,’” he rasped.
The third stroke bordered on sheer heaven. “‘The love of my verses…’”
The fourth was perfection. “‘The love of my eyes for your strange luring eyes…’” He moved again. “‘…comes blowing over my soul like a wind of spices.’ Oh, Nora.”
Their hips slammed together, hands laced with one another’s, eyes locked. They rocked and delved and battled toward a shared goal, a precipice he pushed her up. Clamping down on his driving shaft, she invited him to fall over with her.
Mouths and hands and whispered endearments were the only things left between them. Nora lost track of the words, the kisses—nothing existed but Jarod moving deep inside her. She thanked God there was nothing flammable nearby. He picked up speed, and she wrapped her arms around him, her hips rolling with some primitive answer, some message she needed to convey with her body.
He leaned back, drove deeper and harder, rode higher against her. She looked into his eyes. He made her feel invincible, beautiful and more powerful than any biological equation could explain. Passion defied explanation. Jarod was her passion.
At the edge, the honed-fine razor’s edge, every nerve twanged with need. She raked her nails across his skin, sucked his bottom lip into her mouth, mewling in want.
“Tell me.” His voice shot through her.
“Talk to me.” Her tongue slicked across his. “Talk dirty to me.”
His primal thrust snapped her head back, and her lips parted in bliss. Each forceful plunge ricocheted up her spine.
“Your pussy feels so good, better than I ever dreamed. So hot, so tight for me. I can feel every sweet inch squeezing me. I want to make love to you slow and sweet, but now I need this. I need to fuck you hard. Take it, sweetheart, take me. Come for me. Come on my cock. Say my name.”
It started as a glimmer, a spark. Her clit drew tight, painfully rigid, and then something inside of her let go. A quake gripped her and she convulsed with white-hot release. Her nails bit into the smooth, rounded flesh of his ass. Her ears rang and her vision pinpointed until the only thing she could see was the fiery green of his wide eyes. His name was a scream ripped from her throat as she tightened around him.
A throbbing swell jerked inside her and he drove deep, drawing out her climax, letting her take him over the edge. He gave her the last of his fleeting control.
Jarod’s mouth fell open with a moan. “Fuck, Nora, yes!”
Oblivion cascaded. Her bones melted, the muscles around them settling to the hard table. A fine sheen of sweat glistened on his brow and he dropped a light kiss on her mouth, struggling for air. He didn’t resist when she pulled him down, but he kept his weight on his elbows. He buried his face in the curve of her neck. She stroked his hair, his nape, down his back. Contentment hummed in the hushed afterglow, the thudding of the washing machines slowing to a stop.
“I’m sorry, Nora.”
Her hand stilled. “Please don’t tell me you thought that was substandard.”
He jerked his head up, an irked twist to his full mouth. “That was so far above standard that you blew the grading curve for anyone else. I meant I’m sorry I misled you. I should have been honest and I wasn’t. I never meant for things to go that far. It just…James was an addict and you were his drug. I couldn’t stop.”
She had as much to be sorry for as he did. She’d thought she was juggling the attentions of two men. She’d never imagined that the one in front of her would be both—would be everything. “You don’t have to stop. Jarod with a bit of James is a pretty nice combination.”
The glow of lamplight cast a devious slant to his brow. “Want a new research assistant for your dissertation? I come highly recommended by an incredibly beautiful biologist.”
Nora giggled. “You’re hired. I can’t afford much in the way of salary. I may have to pay you in creative ways.”
Jarod growled and nipped at her jaw. “Start the dryer and then you can tell me all about it, sweetheart.”