His tongue steals my breath as it slips through my lips, parted on a gasp. Fingers spear through my straightened locks, tilting my head to the side so he can deepen his kiss.
I stand frozen, momentarily stunned, wrapped in his firm embrace before slamming my palms against his gray polo-clad chest and pushing him away.
Hands still tangled in my tresses, Mr. Ellis stares at me with untamed, azure eyes, his breath coming out in winded puffs, while my heart flutters somewhere beyond my body.
Neither of us speak. There’s nothing to be said.
Only to be felt.
Throwing myself into his arms, I climb up his chiseled body, wrapping one arm around his neck while the other folds over his head. I can taste the rich Bourbon on his tongue. I lap at its caramel flavor, sucking it off the tip while tearing at his gelled roots.
I want him to look as chaotic as I feel.
Swiping the contents to the side, Mr. Ellis drops me onto the desktop. He drags my ass to hang off the edge and steps between my open thighs.
I can feel his cock through his jeans, thrusting firmly against my center while his lips suck and nip at my neck, driving a moan from deep in my chest.
Slowly, Mr. Ellis’s hands glide from my hips to the arch of my back. The heat from his fingertips as they roll over each notch in my spine evokes trembling whimpers from my throat.
“Mr. Ellis,” I breathe, locking my ankles around his lower back while using one hand to guide his to the front of my chest.
I’ve been kissed plenty of times before, but nothing has ever,everfelt like this. I feel his touch everywhere, not just on my lips. The pressure of his mouth on mine causes my toes to curl and my stomach to plummet into the earth. I chase the sensation and fall farther into his embrace. I don’t know this man, and somehow, I’ve never felt safer in another’s arms.
He growls in hunger when my pebbled nipple brushes against his palm. I let go, expecting him to keep hold, when instead, Mr. Ellis uses both hands to angle my head to the side. I don’t resist his bruising force by fighting. Instead, I bend to his needs with a purr, giving him more access to my neck by letting it fall back.
“Ah… such a good girl.” His hand takes my jaw and forces it up so his tongue can run the length of my throat, connecting the dots of my little moles on the way down.
The collar of my oversized burgundy sweater gets in the way of his mouth, and his lips drag back up my neck. But I want him to keep going down, down, down.
Ripping my fingers out of his hair, I find the bottom of my sweater and pull it over my head. The agonizing moment his lips leave my body is nothing compared to the fire that singes my cells when his lips find my peaked nipple.
“Fuck, Scar.” He sucks it through the lace of my bra, soaking one tit while his palm massages the other.
Arousal gushes down my thighs, overpowering the delicate lacing of my thong.
Mr. Ellis wraps his fingers over the edge of my bra, ready to pull it down, when an unwelcome knocking raps at the door.
A frightened yelp squeaks past my lips, but his palm slaps over my mouth, silencing my alarm as he glares in terror at the door.
“Mr. Ellis, a student was looking for you about fifteen minutes ago, said something about tutoring. I told her she could find you here,” Mrs. Brown says, giving the door another knock while trying the knob.
The panic inside me increases, but relief ensues when I remember I locked the door.
Mr. Ellis’s grip remains on my breast, unwittingly still kneading my flesh until I’m putty in his arms. His eyes pin me to the desk, flaring brightly before a storm of shadows snuffs out the flame.
I don’t know what to make of his stare. Does he want to rip my head off for telling Mrs. Brown I was looking for him, or does he want to devour me whole?
I’m ready for them both, willing to be his meal after he disciplines me.
Clearing his throat, he looks back toward the door, watching her shadowed form move through the frosted glass on the wood.
“Ye-yeah, Georgia! I spoke with the student already. Thank you for being so helpful!”
Her heels click away from the office, growing fainter until the hall is soundless again.
Nothing can be heard but our rapid breathing. I lean back on the desk, my gaze roaming over his wild, tangled brown hair and flushed ivory skin. His beard is in disarray, going in each and every direction.
I look down at my chest, spotting tiny red scratches amongst the angry maroon welts.
