“It’s not easy, you know.” She trembles a little.
“I’ll make it worth it. I’ll take your mind somewhere else. That is, if you can read while I worship this perfect body?”
“Oh, shut up, Preston.” The bite in her voice is undercut by the sly curve at the corner of her lips.
“As soon as you start talking, baby.”
“No.”
My brows lift. The little brat.
“Is that how you talk to your professor?”
“I want to see you too. Strip, and I’ll read every word in here.” She waves the folded paper like a gauntlet.
Fair is fair. I tackle the first button of my shirt when she stops me with her palm.
“Actually… I want to do it. If you don’t mind.” She pulls me by the hand, and I stand to follow her. We enter the bedroom, and she lays the promised list on the bedside table.
“The only thing I mind is not doing what you want. Ask, and it’s yours.” I kiss her, slow and deep. Her hands sweep over my back, softer than anything I deserve. “I’m yours,” I say against her mouth. “Yours to touch. Yours to use. To do whatever you want.” I guide her fingers to the next button.
With each one she opens, her touch grows bolder. Her hands travel across my chest and stomach, nails grazing, aslow torment, then they climb my shoulders to slip my shirt off.
She traces my skin to my belt. Undoes it. Pops the button off my pants. But instead of going for the zipper, she slides the belt from every loop and drops it on top of my shirt.
My mind goes wild. There’s only one reason she’d bother with that much ceremony, unless the belt’s fair game today. I need to hear that list. Now.
I love being the one who guides her, but this? Letting her lead? It’s a whole new kind of thrill.
I’m too focused on how her hands feel, and suck in a breath when I hear every notch of the zipper parting—tick, tick, tick. She pulls it down slowly, excruciatingly so. Every tiny tooth releases with a click I feel in my spine. She moves with unhurried purpose, and it’s obscene how loud it sounds when my whole world’s gone quiet.
Desire has turned my senses inside out, and right now, the only thing I hear is her.
The only thing I feel is her.
The only thing I see is my imminent undoing.
“I know some of that list by heart, Pres.”
She pushes down what she can of my pants and boxers without kneeling. I finish the job, stepping out of them, socks and all.
“I want to see you. Feel you. Taste you. I don’t want to be denied anymore.”
She wraps one hand around the head of my cock, slick with pre-cum from the car ride. She rubs slow circles over the tip, and I groan, jerking forward, then away, too sensitive for that kind of attention.
Her other hand closes around my length—tight and confident, just like I taught her. I thrust into her grip, slow, steady, fighting the urge to spill on her fingers.
“I’m not here to deny you anything, Mia. I’m here to tend to your every whim.” Our foreheads meet, breaths mingling. “Talk to me. Tell me what you want. I’m at your mercy.”
“Then follow me.” She lets go of my cock and takes my hand, leading me to the end of bed, where she sits at the edge. The height sets her perfectly for what’s coming next.
“Well, professor,” she purrs, “top of my list? Teach me how to suck cock. How to take it deep. How not to gag. How to leave a man speechless and desperate for more of me after I suck him dry.”
Her words drive me the wrong kind of mad. I haven’t fucked Mia yet, and I’m already intent on ruining her for other men. I’m teaching her to suckmycock, and my cock only.
And fuck, I can’t wait to see her choke on it. Eyes watering, drool running down her chin, mouth stretched wide, stuffed full of me.
The irrational beast in my chest roars that the only man she's sucking dry is me.
