Page 12 of Working for the Teacher

His mouth brushes the spot beneath my ear as his hand slips from my hair and traces slowly down the side of my neck.

“What about when I touch you here? Does this make you nervous?”

His fingertips skim my collarbone, and I shiver.

“Yes.”

“Here?”

His hand moves lower, over the fabric of my shirt, and my breath catches. He watches my face the entire time, like every reaction belongs to him now.

His palm settles over my breast, tracing the shape through the fabric, thumb dragging slow circles around the peak until my nipple tightens.

“Ryder.”

“That a yes?”

I nod.

“Say it.”

“Yes.”

“Good girl.” His mouth curves against mine before he kisses me again, slower this time, like he’s savoring the permission.

Then he pinches my nipple, just enough pressure through my shirt to make my knees buckle. A spark shoots straight between my legs. I gasp into his mouth.

“Fuck, look at that,” he groans against my lips. “You like it when I touch you like this?”

I can only manage another shaky “Yes.”

He does it again, rolling the peak between his fingers, then switches to the other breast, giving it the same attention. “So fucking perfect.”

His hand leaves my breast and slides down my stomach. He stops at the waistband of my jeans, teasing the edge of the button.

“And here?”

I suck in a breath. He doesn’t move until I answer.

“Yes.”

The button pops open under his fingers. The zipper follows with a soft hiss. He spreads the denim just enough to slip his hand inside, palm flat against the front of my underwear.

“Have you been thinking about me?”

I don’t answer, but my hips twitch forward. He starts rubbing slow circles over my clit through the damp fabric. The friction drives me absolutely crazy. My head tips back against the cabinet. A broken sound slips out of me.

“That’s it. Let me hear you.”

I’m panting now, fingers fisted in his shirt.

He tucks two fingers under the edge of my panties. The first contact makes me jolt. He traces the length of my pussy with the pad of one finger.

“So fucking soft. So ready.” He parts me gently, dragging his fingertip through the wetness before circling my entrance without pushing inside. His thumb finds my clit again, rubbing firm circles while his other fingers keep teasing.

“You’re shaking,” he growls against my ear. “You gonna come on my hand the first time I touch you?”

I can’t form words. I don’t even know who I am right now. I just nod, desperately chasing his hand for a release.