But I’m not sure what he’s thinking. Has this just been fun and games to pass the time while he got his work done? Hell, for all I know, he’s off to some party full of sorority girls and cheerleaders, and I’m going to go home to get myself off to thoughts of him. Again. Even though I know I shouldn’t.
“So, now what?” I ask, adding a bit of sass to my tone and lifting one eyebrow, hoping he hears the challenge and takes me up on it but knowing that if he doesn’t, I’ll have my answer right there.
He smirks. “I told you, Brat. I was gonna finish my paper and then finish . . . you.”
I should say no. I know that I should not do this. It’s epically stupid in so many ways. But Zach checks all the boxes on my checklist, both good and bad. Football player, cocky jock, bastard asshole, kind, funny, quick-witted, sharp-tongued . . . Zach.
And I know I’m going to give in. But I won’t do it easily. That’s not who I am.
“You think you can? Hmm, I don’t know. Guys sometimes have a hard time closing the deal. I could probably tutor you there if you want,” I say, letting false doubt fill my voice. I have no qualms that Zach could probably get me off in minutes, especially considering the way he’s been building me up all night.
He leans in and kisses me full on the lips. It’s fierce and hard, communicating in no uncertain terms that he’s ready to meet this challenge. My inner bitch jumps for joy, clapping with excitement.
He pulls back, both of us panting, and then he gives me that arrogant smirk. “I don’t need a damn bit of tutoring for this, Brat.”
He gets up, and I’m confused for a second at where he’s going. But with a quick look around, he drops to his knees and crawls under the table. He grasps my knees and forces them wide, sitting on the floor between them. And then he flips my skirt up to my lap. Damn maxi skirt that was supposed to protect me from this, but right now, I’m thanking God that it’s making my pussy easy-access for whatever Zach is about to do.
He grabs my inner thighs, kneading them in his rough grip as he inhales me. “Fuck, Norma, dressing like a good girl but wearing sexy Victoria’s Secret panties like a bad girl,” his voice rumbles, so close to where I want him, the heat of his breath good, but I tilt toward him, looking for more.
“This is such a bad idea. We’re going to get caught . . .” I murmur, but my brain is already shutting down all the solid arguments for why I should definitely not be doing this. Not here, but most of all, not with Zach. This has danger written all over it, for my body, my heart, and my career. Almost like he can hear me but interprets the same situation differently, Zach smiles ferally against my thigh.
“We won’t get caught if you’re quiet, Norma. Think you can be quiet while I eat your sweet little pussy? Or maybe you like that someone might catch us, might watch me fuck your cunt with my tongue? That little bit of danger get you off?” He emphasizes each question with a stroke of his thumb against my clit, but it’s through the silk of my panties . . . good but not enough.
I whimper, biting my lip to try to stay quiet.
“Say yes or I’ll stop. I want to hear you give in, knowing that you’re choosing this.” Zach’s voice is a hushed growl.
Needing to fight him and not wanting to give in, I reach down and slip my panties to the side myself, exposing my pussy to him. I hear his breath hitch and then he groans. “Say it, Norma.” He’s begging me to give in, and I feel like though I’m saying yes, he’s the one who gave in first.
“Lick my pussy, Zach. Make me come . . . right here in the library where anyone could come upstairs and see you on your knees under the table. Is that what you want? That hint of danger?” Somehow, whispering the filthy words makes it easier to say them.
“Fuck, yes,” he snarls, and then he dives into my pussy. He shoves my hands out of the way, pulling my panties to the side and spreading me wide open with his hands.
His tongue laps at me, tickling and teasing along my lips and then around my clit. I gasp at the onslaught, the sensations so good, but mixed with the risk of getting caught, it’s so much more. I never knew that would be such a turn-on, but it is.
He moves his attention to my clit and sucks hard. I have to cover my mouth to stifle the moan bubbling up in my throat, threatening to loudly let loose. Zach chuckles against me, the vibrations adding a new feeling to his ministrations. “That’s it, Brat. Let yourself go. You know you’re loving every second of this just as much as I am. I want to see that soft Norma coming undone for me.”
I grab at his hair, trying to get him back where I want him without answering the challenge of just how much I’m loving this. Because I am, I so am.
He licks a long line from my entrance to my clit and then sucks my clit into his mouth, using his tongue to flick against it fast and hard in the vacuum he’s created around my tender bud. The world pulls tight for a moment, centered on my core, and then it explodes in a flash of white light.
My hips shake and my thighs quiver as I come for the first time from a man’s touch. From Zach’s touch. My body clenches and then sags as the orgasm washes over me in waves. I think I’m quiet, though right now, I don’t really care.
Zach lays one last kiss to my clit, and I shudder, pulling away. “Too sensitive. Fuck.”
He moves my panties back in place and lays a gentle pat to my mound, eyes looking up at me from under the table. “Never met a girl as sassy as you are, Brat. Never had one as tasty either. You’re like fucking honey.”
His eyes are glazed over, and I wonder if I look as shell-shocked as he does. I don’t know what just happened or what it means. Maybe it doesn’t mean anything, but it was amazing.
He climbs out from under the table and bends down to kiss me. I can taste myself on his lips. He smirks. “See? You’re fucking delicious.”
He stands up, and I can see him, thick and hard inside his jeans. I reach out to touch him, cupping his length through the denim, wanting to pleasure him the way he just did me.
He seems to read my desire on my face because he takes my hand, pulling me to my feet and guiding me over to the endcap of one of the rows of books.
Zach licks my ear, making me whimper. “I thought so. You dressed up so sweet and innocent, giving me attitude . . . but you’ve got a dirty side, don’t you?”
I tremble, my hips grinding on their own against his cock, and I bite my lip before admitting, “Maybe.”
“Get on your knees, Norma.” His tone is hard, something different from before but still with that undercurrent of a light dare.
I obey but can’t help but sass him. “No jokes about me sucking you off or making me beg for the privilege?”
He cups my jaw in his rough palm. “Fuck that. If you want to suck my cock, I’m not gonna risk your ire and screw up this chance. I’ll shut my fucking trap, bite back any words I might have, and thank God for the opportunity to be in your hot, sassy mouth.”
I can’t help but smile at the odd twist of compliment he just bestowed on me. Most people, guys especially, don’t even consider shutting down their mouthiness. No, they just want me to stop mine. But Zach’s different. He seems to like my mouth. Well, if that’s the case, I’m going to make him fucking love it.
I undo his jeans, letting them fall wide open and pulling his boxer briefs down to let his cock free. He’s . . . huge and gorgeous. I should’ve known. Football god like him would have an amazing cock to go along with it. Some people get all the blessings. Right now, I’m sure fucking glad though.
His thickness is a bit intimidating, so I lick around the head, teasing him and tasting him. I let my tongue slide along the length of his shaft, from root to tip, and then I take the plunge, filling my mouth with as much as I can take. My lips stretch wide, and I have to pull back, letting my saliva coat him inch by inch as I take him deeper, exploring the limits of my mouth and then my throat.
I find a rhythm, three shallow thrusts and then a slow, deep one that makes him groan in pleasure. The fourth time I do that, his hands tangle i
nto my hair and my silk scarf headwrap falls off.
Zach grins mischievously. “Wait. Wait.” I pop off his cock, surprised to hear him say that. But then he bends down and grabs the silk scarf.
“What are you gonna do with that?” I ask, not sure I like where this is headed.
But his smile is soft. “Give me your hands.” I obey slowly, and he grabs my wrists in his massive hand before slipping the scarf around one wrist and then the other, loosely looping them together behind my back. It’s not tight, and I could get out if I wanted to, but I find that the thought of being restrained is rather erotic. Like the thought of getting caught. I don’t think I would want to be full-on, tied down at his mercy, just like I don’t actually want someone to catch us and watch. But the fantasy of it, so close but not quite real, is somehow extremely sexy.
“You good?” Zach asks, a light in his eyes.
In answer, I suck him back into my mouth, moaning against his heated flesh. Looking up through my lashes, I can see that he’s gripping the bookcase behind me so hard his knuckles are going white. He’s trying to let me lead here, let me take him. But suddenly, the thought of his being in charge is rather enticing. Another thing I thought I wouldn’t be into. I feel like I’m learning more about myself tonight than ever before.
I lick a lazy circle around his head, knowing he’s on the edge and liking that I’m doing that to him. “Zach?” I whisper.
He grunts. “Yeah, Brat?” and his cock jumps, bumping against my upper lip.
“Fuck my mouth,” I tell him, a little louder so that I’m sure he hears me. I’m ballsy as fuck, but I don’t know if I can say that twice.
His smirk is full of delight, and he feeds me his cock in one smooth stroke, deep into my mouth. His hands don’t leave the bookcase. Instead, he uses the leverage to loom over me, forcing me to look up, which lets him into my throat even easier.
“Fuck, Norma. Swallow my cock, take me deep,” he says, getting a bit loud. I whimper against his skin, the sound a warning to be quiet.
He grimaces, forcing back his moans, and picks up the pace. His cock pumps into my mouth, sloppy with the combination of my saliva and his pre-cum, and I try to swallow it all down in preparation for what I know is coming. I can feel a drop running down my chin, but with my hands tied, I can’t wipe it away. The trickle ends and I realize it’s dripped onto my shirt.
But Zach doesn’t stop, closer and closer with every stroke. And then he slips further into my throat and I feel the pulses as he comes, his hot cum filling my mouth as I fight to gulp it down. He cups the back of my head with one hand, holding me deep as his cock jerks over and over.
He throws his head back in release, his mouth open in a silent roar before a shudder runs through his whole body. It’s a powerful sight to see him unfettered, and I wonder if this is why he was looking at me so glazed earlier. I wonder if he got this kind of joy from watching me come. The thought makes me smile.
Slowly, his head falls forward and his eyes meet mine. “Fuck, Brat. That was . . . fuck.”
I like that he’s speechless, that maybe I’m not some orally super-skilled football groupie, but I did that to him, and judging by the look in his eyes, he fucking loved it.
I smirk at him. “Might have to expand your vocabulary a bit for the next paper,” I tease.
He laughs. “You fucking brat. I think you sucked all of my vocabulary words out of my cock. Get up here.” He pulls back, slipping his softening cock into his jeans before pulling me to stand in front of him.
I’m expecting him to untie me, but he kisses me first, apparently having no qualms about tasting himself on my tongue. I don’t have any squeamishness about it either, and I actually rather like the dirty thought that he tastes like me, I taste like him, and our flavors are co-mingled within our kiss. But after a moment, he pulls back and spins me in place.
He makes quick work of the loopy knot in the silk scarf and then spins me back around.
“We should go. I don’t know about you, but I have an eight AM class tomorrow,” he says, though his tone says he wants to stay right here. Just that little hint resolves the whisper of doubt, of question in my mind and heart.
I smile. “Get some sleep. Eight tomorrow night again?” I hold my breath for a split second until he agrees.
“Definitely. See you tomorrow, Norma.” His grin is wide as he struts out of the library.
It’s not until he’s gone and I’m alone that I think, What the fuck did I just do?
Chapter 7
Zach
She freaked out. I knew she would. But in the four days since that first bit of oral exchange, of the sexual variety, not our usual banter, I’ve managed to calm Norma down. I knew she’d have second thoughts, could tell she was inexperienced, but fuck if that didn’t make me love it even more, that such a sassy spitfire could be so innocent but somehow push just the right buttons and let me push her too. Buttons I didn’t even know I had.
I’ve had sex, though not nearly to the manwhore scale Norma thinks. But none of it compared to what Norma and I did in that library.
In public. Where anyone could’ve come up to see.
With her hands tied, at my mercy as I fucked her mouth.
No, that was on a whole different level.
So the next night, when she’d come in, ready to argue that we go back to a more professional level of tutor-tutoree, I’d been expecting it. Her doubts, her fears, all masked in vinegar and snark.
The battle had been fierce and many bites had been given, but in the end, I’d won. Mostly.
“Are you sure about this?” Norma asks, looking at me like I’ve lost my ever-loving mind. “I mean, no one knows shit and we could just keep on meeting in the library. No need to throw a parade or anything.”
We’re standing outside the school food court, where we’re about to go in and grab a slice of pizza for lunch.
This shouldn’t be a big deal.
But it’s such a big fucking deal. And we both know it.
It’s part of my reassurance to her that I’m not just looking for some convenient pussy for the semester, some acknowledgement of the fact that I can’t date anyone else when I’m supposedly dating Norma, cover story and all. I hate that it took me damn near flunking English to meet her, hate that there’s this question lingering over our heads. But I wouldn’t change a thing.
The fact is, I am dating Norma. And she’s probably the least convenient pussy around me at any given time. Which might be why I want it so damn much.
“You don’t get a choice here, unless it’s cheese or sausage, because we’re getting lunch,” I say, making sure that she hears the lack of options here. She needs this, both the public acknowledgement and for me to force the issue and push her buttons a little because I know that even when we study and spend every night at the library touching and exploring, my fingers deep inside her or her lips wrapped around me again, she’s questioning whether it’s real. All because the setup was fake.
She grins, and I can see the devil in her eyes. “What if I say sausage and we head on over to my place so I can get my taste?” She glances down at my cock, knowing it doesn’t take much to get me rock-fucking-hard for her.
I adjust myself, squeezing a bit hard to let the pinch of pain deflate my cock. “God damn it, Brat. Lunch. Let’s go.”
I open the door for her, and she steps inside, back held straight and shoulders squared. She looks like the tiniest warrior fairy ever, ready for battle. She stops just inside the door, and I stop beside her to take her hand. I look down at our clasped hands, and she looks up at me. She baits me. “Welcome to the funeral of your social standing, Football God.”
The fire in her eyes belies the fact that she’s nervous. She’s not worried about my social standing. She’s worried that this is going to lead to some ‘who’s that girl’ situation and that she’ll be on the losing end of the spectrum against the cheerleader types. Maybe for some guys, that’d be the case, but not me. Definitely not
now.
Now, my type is a sassy, snarky little redhead who makes me work for every damn inch of her submission and then falls apart in a gorgeous shattering of sparks when I earn it. It’s fucking addicting and I want it all the damn time.
I lead her across the cavernous room. If this were a Hollywood movie, a hush would fall over the crowd of people, chairs would screech as people turned to stare, and jaws would drop. None of that happens because it’s just a college food court, and for the most part, people are buried in their own work and food.
We grab our pizzas and cokes, and she does get sausage, though I think it’s mostly so she can take big, mean-looking chomps of it as a pseudo-threat to my manhood. Which she does as soon as we sit down at a table for two.
“You that hungry for sausage, Brat?” I tease, letting her know that she’s not fooling me and that I’m on to her transparent symbolism.
“Ravenous. Wish I could eat the whole damn thing in one gulp right now,” she says with a wink. Then she grabs her drink, letting her tongue slip out to catch the straw and then taking a cheek-hollowing suck.
It’s an almost comical caricature of flirting, but damned if it doesn’t set me off anyway because I know she’s doing it intentionally to irritate me. “Keep it up and you’ll get to,” I promise her.
She tosses her napkin to her plate, grabbing the edges of her tray like she’s ready to bolt out of here, but I lay a staying hand on hers. “After lunch.”
She sighs and sits back in her chair. “Okay, bullshit aside, Zach. Why are we doing this? There’s no need, really. The whole” —she lowers her voice to barely a whisper— “cover story was a just-in-case scenario.” She looks around the room. “You know, if someone saw us and questioned why we’re hanging out. But we don’t have to invite people to the fucking wedding by showing up in the middle of the day to the most populous place on campus.”
Silk and Shadows (The Virgin Diaries Book 3) Page 5