Page 28 of Stolen Moments

Clothes come off, his shirt, my top, jeans, everything tossed aside. Skin meets skin, warm and hungry. He hovers over me for a moment, eyes dark with desire as he drinks me in, then dips his head to trail kisses down my neck. His mouth finds my breasts, sucking one nipple deep while his hand palms the other, rolling it between his fingers until I’m gasping and arching beneath him.

He doesn’t stop there. His lips continue their path downward, over my stomach, until he settles between my thighs. He looks up at me with that wicked little smirk I love before his tongue strokes over my clit, slow, teasing at first, then firmer. Two fingers slide inside me easily, curling just right, stroking that sensitive spot while his mouth works me with practiced skill. My hands fist in his hair, hips rolling against his face as pleasure builds fast and hot.

“Fuck, right there,” I moan. He hums in response, the vibration sending sparks through me, and I come hard, thighs trembling around his shoulders as waves of pleasure crash over me.

He rises, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, and kisses me deeply so I can taste myself on his tongue. I reach between us, wrapping my fingers around his cock, thick, hard, and already leaking. I stroke him slowly, twisting my wrist the way he likes, until he’s groaning into my mouth and thrusting into my fist.

“Need to be inside you,” he rasps.

I guide him to my entrance, and he pushes in with one long, deep thrust. We both moan at the perfect stretch, the way he fills me so completely. For a moment he stays still, forehead pressed to mine, breathing me in. Then he starts to move, slow, rolling strokes that drag against every sensitive nerve.

I wrap my legs around his waist, pulling him deeper. “Harder,” I whisper.

He obliges, picking up the pace, hips snapping against mine. The room fills with the rhythmic sound of us, our mingled moans, and the creak of the bed. He shifts slightly, hooking one of my legs over his shoulder, driving even deeper. The new angle makes me cry out, pleasure bordering on overwhelming.

His thumb finds my clit again, rubbing firm circles in time with his thrusts. “That’s it. Let go for me.”

I shatter around him, clenching tight as the orgasm rips through me. He keeps moving through it, drawing it out, until his own rhythm falters. With a low, guttural groan of my name, he buries himself deep and comes hard, pulsing inside me.

We stay locked together as we come down, breathing ragged, bodies slick with sweat. Eventually he pulls out gently and rolls to the side, pulling me against his chest. His fingers trace lazy patterns on my back while he presses soft kisses to my temple, my cheek, my lips.

“God, I love you,” he whispers, voice husky. “Brave as hell… and all mine.”

I smile, nuzzling into his neck, feeling safe, sated, and utterly his. “All yours.”

Chapter 11

Jackson

We tell the dean about our relationship the following Monday.

Dean Whitmore listens to our explanation how we tried to keep it professional, how feelings developed despite our best efforts, and how we’re coming forward now to be transparent.

“Mr. Rivera, Ms. Sharma,” he says when we finish. “You understand this violates the TA code of conduct.”

“Yes, sir,” we say in unison.

“Ms. Sharma, you’ll be removed from your TA position effective immediately and placed on academic probation for the remainder of the semester.”

Priya nods, accepting the consequences.

“Mr. Rivera, you’ll be assigned a new tutor for Chemistry and I expect you both to maintain appropriate boundaries going forward.”

“We will,” I promise.

“However,” he continues, “given that you’ve come forward voluntarily and there’s no evidence of academic impropriety, I’m not going to pursue further disciplinary action. Consider this a warning.”

“Thank you,” Priya says.

We leave his office hand in hand, and despite the probation and consequences, I’ve never felt lighter.

“You okay?” I ask.

“Better than okay. Free.” She smiles and for the first time I see a real smile.

Three weeks later, Priya’s standing in the rink watching the conference championship game. No longer hiding, no longer pretending we’re just TA and student.

We win in overtime, and I skate straight to the boards where she’s waiting.