“Words, Sloane,” he warns. I run my bottom lip between my teeth, licking as I do. His eyes shift to my lips again. Yes … yes,pleasekiss me. His jaw flexes like he’s having to restrain himself, but he doesn’t make a move.
“Yes, I got it. I understand,” I say back, finally giving him the response he’s seeking.
He lets go of my wrist and pushes back until he’s kneeling before me.
“Spread your legs,” he orders, that look of dark intensity taking over his features once more. It’s a look that I both want to run from and toward. It’sintriguing.
I obey, spreading them open for him.
He looks down at my exposed center, laid before him like it’s the most divine thing he’s ever laid his eyes on. I swallow. His gaze makes me want to look away, but I don’t make that mistake again. I want whatever he’s offering, even if it’s only this, whateverthisis.
“Not like this,” he murmurs, more to himself than to me. Before I can ask what he means, he bends down, hooks his armsunderneath my back, and spins me around until I’m straddling him. I gasp. He stares up at me for a second before grabbing my ass in both of his hands and moving me up toward him until I’m hovering over his face.Oh.
“Grab the headboard and sit on my face, Sloane,” he growls, growing impatient. That side of my brain that speaks logic and sound reasoning is yelling at me to overanalyze the situation. And although this is where I usually become self-conscious and stop, I do the complete opposite. I sit on his face, and I grab the fucking headboard.
“Yessss,” he moans against my pussy, causing me to move my hips back and forth in response. “That’s it, Sloane. You taste so fucking good, so sweet.” And that’s the last thing he says before he’s licking and sucking, and I’m losing control …again.My hands grip the headboard in front of me as I ride his face shamelessly. His hands grip my ass, pressing me into him as close as he can get me. Within minutes, I’m standing on that edge again, ready to fall to my death. He groans against my clit, sucking it into his mouth over and over, and I feel the orgasm clawing its way to the surface once more. I let go of the headboard and bring my hands to his hair, grabbing a fistful of it as I tug him toward me.
And then I fall,hard.
Stars dance across my vision again, and I throw my head back as his name leaves my lips in a breathy moan. This orgasm is somehow even stronger than the first one. I sit there for a few minutes, collecting myself. My legs shake as he gently flips me over until I’m lying on my back again. He leans over me, brushing sticky strands of hair out of my face as I recover from the high.
“You did so good for me. So perfect.” I look into his eyes, realizing that I have a serious praise kink.Add to the list, I thinkto myself, huffing out a laugh. Where in the world did this guy come from, and why is he into me?
“What?” he asks, an amused look dancing across his features. His eyes are light and look nothing like they did when his mouth was just devouring me.
“Oh, nothing. Just … what are we doing?” The question escapes my brain before I’m able to filter it. It’s so unlike me. The multiple orgasms areclearlyeliciting some sort of brain damage.
He’s seemingly unfazed by the question as he answers, “Whatever we want.”
He’s drawing lazy circles across my abdomen with a single finger, and I hate how much I love the way it feels. I hate howeasyit all feels.
“Mmmmm,” I hum as exhaustion begins to fill my bones, and my eyes start to close. He turns me on my side and pulls me into him, wrapping an arm over me. The last thing I remember is his breathing against my ear before sleep consumes me.
20
Sloane
The light coming in from my bedroom sliding door burns my retina as I squint one of my eyes open. I groan, grabbing my pillow and putting it over my head to block the light. My eyes shoot open.
Last night. Professor Riven …
Professor Riven andme. OhmyGod. I toss the pillow and immediately sit up, glancing at the mattress next to me. He’s nowhere in sight. I lean over to look at the floor, like he’d be down there for some reason. I even hop off the bed and look under it, finding nothing. I’m beginning to think I’ve made up the entire scenario in my head when I look down and notice my ripped pajama top. My cheeks burn at the memory.
Okay, so itdefinitelyhappened. I reassure myself that I am, in fact, not crazy, and I head to the bathroom. I stand in front of the vanity mirror as I take myself in. My hair is a mess, falling inloose strands and tangles. I move my eyes to my exposed breast, and down to where he …
An image of him under me, eyes full of desirefor me, flashes through my mind. I look up again, meeting my gaze in the reflection of the mirror. My freckles are hidden beneath a rosy blush. A hand flies to my mouth, and a giggle escapes as I shake my head at myself. What in the world have I gotten myself into?
I jump in the shower, wash my hair, and change into something comfortable before heading downstairs. On the way down, I grab my phone and notice that it’s almost noon. I don’t know what time it was when I fell asleep, but it must have been early in the morning. I yawn, rubbing my eyes as I head to the kitchen to make a cup of coffee.
“Hey, sleepyhead!” Lydia chirps, a little too loudly, from a bar stool at the kitchen island. I jump.
“Jesus, Lydia.Insidevoices after wine nights.” I cringe, throwing my hands over my hungover and sleep-deprived ears.
“Coffee,” I say, moving to the espresso machine like a zombie.
“You mean,water, right?” She pushes an unopened water bottle over to me.
I sigh, grabbing it. “Why are you so awake and happy in the mornings?” I scowl, taking a sip out of the water bottle. The sip turns into a full-on chug. I guess I did need water, after all.
