“No you’re not,” he said, and I knew he meant it. “You’re the best. Or at least, the most beautiful.”
I swallowed hard. “Oh?”
“Sometimes it’s hard to pay attention in class, the way… the way you…”
“Yeah?” Ibadlywanted to hear the rest of that sentence, to know what he thought about me.
And the next second, he kissed me.
24
Lila
Brock’s kiss wasn’t hesitant in any way, feeling more like he’d been holding back for ages, waiting for some invisible boundary to give way.
I melted into him immediately, grabbing a fistful of his shirt as he pulled me flush against his chest. The steady feel of him against me made every part of my body ache for more.
“God,” he muttered against my mouth, “you taste better than any drink I’ve poured in this place.”
My knees nearly buckled. His hand bracketed my jaw, firm enough to steal my next breath, and the heat that flooded low in my core caught me completely off guard. Sure, I’d thought about it, but actually doing it was a whole other story. One student could be chalked up as a fluke, but two was a pattern.
Giving in felt dangerous. It made me instantly wet with desire.
Brock lifted me like I weighed nothing and set me on an open table. His mouth trailed along my throat and sent sharp little shocks all the way to my toes.
“This is all kinds of wrong,” I breathed, pulling him closer.
His mouth didn’t stop as he replied, “That’s one way of looking at it.”
“Seriously, I… I can’t—”
“Can’t what? Think straight when my tongue’s in your mouth?” His eyes blazed as he looked at me, annihilating the last of my defenses in one fell swoop.
He kissed me again, deeper, stealing the last of my words and turning them into a soft, helpless moan. His hands slid along my waist, his thumbs brushing under my shirt, and heat raced through me like wildfire. When he tugged me closer by my hips, a soft sound slipped from me, earning a low curse from his throat that vibrated against my lips.
The desire in his eyes was unmistakable, but he held it back with a kind of aching restraint that made my pulse stutter. The moment his breath hit my collarbone, my knees went loose around his hips, instinct taking over before thought could catch up. His thigh nudged between mine, and my breath fractured, body answering faster than thought, like he’d flipped a switch I didn’t know existed.
I pressed closer, feeling the steady, growing hardness beneath his jeans, and the way he sucked in a breath told me he felt every inch of me. His hands slid down, fingers tracing along my thighs with a deliberate, unhurried touch, lifting the hem of my skirt little by little. Heat flared hotter in my core. My breath caught at the soft brush of his knuckles against the seams of my panties. It was shameless, the way my pussy throbbed in anticipation.
“You’re shaking,” he rasped, lips floating along the curve of my jaw beneath my ear.
I arched for him and said, “That’s all your fault.”
He dipped his head to my neck, kissing me there while his fingers stroked over the thin fabric of my panties, teasing ratherthan taking. The gentleness of it, the patience, made me wet all over again. I was already trembling, needing more, but he kept me right on that edge, his touch coaxing instead of claiming.
I finally reached for him, sliding my hands to his belt. Even then, I didn’t rush it. I took my time, easing the leather free, opening his jeans, feeling him throb against my palm when I slipped my hand inside. His breath shuddered against my skin.
He brushed his lips along my jaw, whisper-soft, and when he finally hooked a finger in my panties to pull them aside, he moved slowly, like he wanted me to feel every second as he lined himself with my entrance and eased into me.
“Brock…” I breathed, the word barely a sound as he gave me his cock, slow enough that my whole body shivered as I took him in.
I clung to him, letting the warmth of his thick shaft envelop me, letting myself be totally in the moment, allowing myself to feeleverything. My hands fisted in the back of his shirt, relishing the warmth of his body pressing into mine, inch by inch. The distant laughter from the street, the low hum of the bar, the faint creak of old wood around us… It all blended into a soft pulse that matched the steady rhythm he set.
The table beneath me groaned in protest as he moved, but nothing about him was hurried. He kissed my shoulder, then my neck, as if he needed to taste every part of me. When he gently slipped the strap of my blouse down my arm and unclasped the bra, my breath hitched at the rush of cool air over my chest. His mouth closed over my nipple with a slow, aching tenderness that sent warmth spiraling through me.
I’m having sex with another one of my students.
The thought didn’t feel wrong. Brock was almost my age, like Jace, and he was more man than college boy.
