The Forbidden Professor

Chapter 13

His mouth moved over mine, hard and demanding, and I kissed him back with everything I had.

He pushed up my dress. His hand warm against my thigh, moving upward, and I exhaled against his mouth and felt my fingers tighten in his shirt. His hand brushed against my inner thigh and a low sound escaped him as he felt how much I already wanted him.

Then he was sliding the dress off me, easing the straps down, letting it fall in a soft slow exhale of fabric to the floor.

The city lit me from behind. He stood in shadow.

He looked at me for a long moment.

That dark gaze of his moving over me completely, taking all of me in, and I felt it everywhere. Heat moving through me under his eyes, my skin warm and alive and aware of every place he was looking.

Then his hands slid to my waist and he lifted me in one smooth motion. I wrapped my legs around him and his mouth found mine again as he carried me away from the glass and moved slowly through the apartment to the bedroom.

His bed was enormous, the sheets cool. He laid me back against them and stood over me and took his shirt off and I forgot whatever I was thinking.

I took in the hard defined muscles of his arms, chest, his abs. The dark, intricate, geometrical tattoo that swirled on his chest. Black against the warm gold of his skin. I realized in the swirls and shapes that it actually made the image of a wolf.

I wanted to trace it with my mouth.

He was looking at me again.

His eyes moving over me in the low light, taking his time the way he took his time with everything. I lay there and let him and felt my heart beating hard inside me.

Then he came down and his mouth found my jaw first. My throat. The curve of my shoulder. He moved over my skin with complete attention, his lips warm and deliberate, pressing soft and slow into each place before moving to the next. His hands followed, sliding from my waist up my breasts.

He slowly unhooked my bra and slipped it off, then I felt his mouth close over my n****e. His tongue circled it in a long warm stroke and I arched up immediately.

His hand came up to cup my other breast. His thumb dragging across the peak of it, and the heat of it spread through me fast and low.

His mouth stayed on my breasts with complete unhurried attention, his lips and his tongue and his hands working together, and I pressed up into his mouth, my breathing gone entirely.

His hand slid down.

Down across my stomach, down between my thighs, and the first brush of his fingers against me made me gasp out loud because I was already so wet and he felt it and made a low sound at the back of his throat.

He pulled my panties off me in one smooth motion.

Then his fingers found me. Stroked me.Teased me.

Then he slowly pushed one finger inside me.

He watched my face while he did it. He watched my mouth open and my eyes flutter closed and he eased it back out and pushed it in again.

Then he added a second finger and I made a sound that was choked.

He worked me slowly, the stretch easing into pleasure, his thumb finding my c**t and circling at the same patient pace, and I was already shaking, already so close.

And he knew, but he didn't speed up. He drew it out. He kept me suspended in it.

Then he took his hand away and I almost cried.

His mouth came back on me. He kissed the underside of my breast, the dip beneath my ribs, the soft place above my hip, taking his time.

He kissed down the center of my stomach, his lips warm, pausing at my navel, continuing lower. His hands slid up the inside of my thighs as he went, spreading them apart. Then his mouth found that place between my legs, slick and wet. I exhaled in a rush and my hands went straight to his hair.

He was slow about it. Maddeningly, deliberately slow. Broken sounds escaping me.

His tongue moved over me softly at first, barely there, tracing the length of me. He pressed his forearms flat against my inner thighs to keep me open and I felt completely at his mercy and couldn't do anything about it.

His tongue moved in slow thorough circles, consistent pressure, consistent rhythm, learning exactly what made my breath catch and then returning to those places over and over.

He brought two fingers to my entrance and pressed them inside slowly, all the way, and I made a sound that came from somewhere I didn't know existed.

He slid them in and out in a deep unhurried rhythm, finding the spot inside that made my whole body tighten, while his tongue kept its slow work above.

The two together were too much. And I felt it building from somewhere deep and low and enormous, my thighs shaking against his forearms, my fingers gripping his hair.

Every time I felt myself about to come, he slowed. Pulled back just enough. Started again from the beginning, slower, more thorough, and I made sounds, calling his name in frustration that he didn't respond to except to keep going exactly and as slowly as he pleased.

Then he pressed his fingers deeper and his tongue pressed harder against my c**t at the same time. And my eyes rolled back. The orgasm hitting me in long crashing waves, my back arching off the bed, his name loud in the room. He kept going through every single wave, not easing up, drawing it all the way out until I had nothing left and lay there trembling.

He pressed his lips softly to the inside of my thigh. Eased his fingers out of me and I made a small involuntary sound at the loss.

He kissed his way back up my body after. My stomach, my ribs, the curve of my breast, my throat, the corner of my jaw, until his mouth was at mine and I tasted myself on him.

I reached up to his pants, pulled at the belt. He helped me. Then his pants were off. And it was my turn to stare.

The gasp stuck in my throat. He was big, hard, thick. His eyes dark as he watched me.

He reached for the nightstand. Grabbed a condom.

"I'm on the pill," I said. I'd been on it for two years, since my doctor had put me on it to regulate my cycle.

And I wanted all of him.

He looked at me.

"Unless," I started, my words trailing off, the implication hanging between us.

He looked at me for a moment, reading the unfinished question. "I don't take risks with my health," he said.

"Me either," I said.

He held my gaze for one more second, something moving through his expression, and then he set the condom back on the nightstand and he kissed me, deep and slow, and I pulled him closer.

Then he paused. “You have done this before?” A question that wasn’t really a question.

“Once,” I said. But that had been painful, awkward…nothing like this.

He still hadn’t moved.

“Zane, don’t stop,” I said, reaching for him. I pressed my lips to his, kissing him hard.

He gripped my chin and kissed me back.

I felt the tip of him pressed heavily against my opening.

Then he pushed into me and a choked sound escaped me.

He held there not taking his eyes off me. I nodded and he continued pushing into me slowly, inch by inch. His jaw tight.

When I could take no more, we stayed completely still. Both of us not moving, both of us just breathing, and I felt the fullness of him everywhere.

Then he moved.

Taking his time. His strokes slow, deep.

Sounds I’d never heard before came out of me.

My hips rocked against him. My moans filling the room. His mouth found mine between breaths, and I kissed him back and felt everything at once. Every stroke.

I wrapped my legs around him. Felt the warmth of him and the sound of our breathing in the low light of the room.

I felt it build. The waves of pleasure moving through me.

Each stroke making me tighten, his breathing growing ragged against my skin, his hands tightening on my hips. Then he tilted me up and I felt him go even deeper, and a louder sound came out of me.

Then he began moving faster.

Thrusting into me harder at this angle. Then harder than that. His pace finding a new rhythm, his hands gripping my hips tighter. His name coming out of me even more.

He drove forward and slammed into me. I gasped and he did it again. Keep doing it. Going faster. One of his hands now gripping the headboard.

I dug my nails into his back, his other hand gripped me hard enough to bruise. My legs tightened around him and he drove into me and the room was loud with the sounds of us. Loud from the sounds coming from deep inside me.

His hand found my center and his thumb moved in tight circles and I lost every coherent thought. It was just his hands and his body and the relentless rhythm of him, deep and rough and consuming, with my nails dragging down his back and him going harder still. His name coming out of me in pieces. My eyes rolling back.

He drove deeper in answer and I came, shattered harder than the first time, clenching hard around him, wave after wave pouring out, until I was trembling and limp and barely holding on. And he drove through it all until I felt him come hard. His face pressed into my neck, a deep, rough sound coming from him, his whole body shuddering.

We were both breathing hard.

Neither of us moving for a long time.