Teacher's Pet (24 page)

B
ut what really makes me
squirm with interest are the tattoos covering his skin. A pretty woman, the Virgin Mary maybe, looks serenely over a bunch of flowers on his right arm and shoulder. Mi Vida Loca, My Crazy Life, is scrawled across his chest with some fancy writing and curlicues for decoration.

And then I see it. The word Trust stands starkly in black, all alone on the left side of his ribs just below his heart. I reach up and trace it with my callused fingertips. It’s like a message to give in and do this and it’s all okay.

He grabs my wrist and brings my hand to his mouth, kissing my palm, nipping my finger with a wicked grin. “What does my bad girl want now?”

I hesitate, not sure I can say what I really want—that I want him naked. I want him inside me. “I want to see more of you,” I manage.

He slides off the bed and stands. “Then take off my pants.”

Before self-consciousness can catch up, I sit up, throwing my legs over the edge of the bed, and comply, all too aware of his body heat, of the scent of him. Musky and citrusy, and something else that makes my mouth water and my fingers clumsy in their haste to get his jeans off.

His erection makes the front of his bright red boxer briefs tent out toward me.

“I can’t decide if I want your hair loose and wild”—he reaches behind me and winds my hair around his hand and pulls—“or if I should take you from behind using this ponytail to guide you on my cock.”

My shocked inhalation leaves me in a moan. If I wasn’t wet before, that’s done it. At the same time, I’m completely wracked with nerves. I’ve given blowjobs before—twice. Once for each of the men I’ve slept with. Since neither of them ever wanted a repeat, I have a feeling I’m not that good at them. Thinking about doing it with Dylan, I’m already humiliated, and I consider telling him that I…that I what? Don’t want to? Because that’s a lie—I
do
want to. I want to feel the power of being able to make a man feel good with just my mouth and my tongue. I want to know that confidence.

Dylan unwinds my scarf, lifting it over my head. “Are you ready for me?”

“I….” The minute I attempt to pleasure him, he’ll know. He’ll realize how inexperienced I am. He’ll laugh. He’ll leave.

So I decide to be honest in as few words as possible. “Teach me?”

His eyes widen in surprise, and I think that maybe he assumes I’ve never done this before, which is close enough to the truth. But then they darken and his lip curls up in a wicked smile. “Yes. I’ll teach you, Rachel. I’ll teach you how to make me feel good. I’ll teach you how to be bad. Would you like that?”

I nod because I can’t speak.

“Such a naughty girl.” His tone is low and it makes my core pulse. I press my thighs together, and he shakes his head, spreading my knees again, standing in between them.

He moves my hands to the waistband of his underwear. His skin is smooth and warm on the backs of my fingers as I slide the boxer briefs down over his large penis.

Not penis.

Cock. Long, thick cock.

My heart is pounding in my chest, and

I lick my lips and bend, tentatively licking the bottom of the head.

“Good girl.” He slides the elastic from my hair and grabs a handful, but he leaves enough slack for me to stay in control. “Now, suck me in your mouth.”

His directive is such a turn-on, eclipsing my nervousness. I ease the large tip past my lips, careful not to drag my teeth, circling my tongue across the bottom of the shaft slowly at first, but faster when he moans.

God, he’s big. I’m not even sure I can fit him in my mouth.

As if reading my mind, he says, “Use your hand.”

I circle my palm around his base and look up to him for approval. When he nods, I take him deeper inside my mouth, my lips moving down him until they meet my fist. Then I release him to the point where only the head is in my mouth before sliding down again.

He moans again, and my core clenches.

Heat turns to throbbing between my legs and I suck him deeper until I almost gag, so I pull back a bit and try again. And again.

“Christ, Rachel.” His fingers tighten in my hair, and I make a yelping sound that reverberates along his shaft.

He groans, and I want to smile but my lips are busy. His other hand settles on my head and he holds me still. “Look at me, baby.” His hips take over, pumping at the pace he likes, fucking my mouth. “Look at me, baby.”

I peer up at him. His face is flushed, brow furrowed, but his eyes could melt my panties right off my body. I’d be scared of someone wanting me this much—if I wasn’t faint with need for him as well. And I’m the one making him feel this. My chest swells with pride that rivals the ache of desire in my belly.

He continues to thrust into me as I watch him, and when I learn his rhythm, he eases his hold on my hair and lets me take over again. He seems to grow even harder under my tongue, his tip hitting the very back of my mouth on every stroke in, and just as I start to wonder if he’s close, he pulls back on my hair, stopping me.

“That’s so good, but if you keep this up, I’m going to be done. And I’m not ready to be done.”

I’m not ready to be done either. I give the hole at his tip an experimental little swirl with my tongue, tasting his saltiness, before slowly releasing him.

I’m still glowing in the warmth of his praise when he reaches around and undoes my bra with one hand. He tosses it away with the other, and, instinctually, I bring my arms up to cover myself. The lights are on, for Pete’s sake, and we’ve just met. I feel awkward and shy and I’m sure my average B-cup breasts are not what he’s accustomed too.

He clicks his tongue, admonishing me. “Now, now, Rachel. You were doing so well at being a bad girl. But this is good girl behavior. I can’t have any of that.”

He peels one hand off, and then the other. Then he holds my wrists tight as he gazes down at me. He drinks me with his eyes. Takes in every inch of my bare skin before spreading his hand over my chest and pressing me until my back hits the mattress.

“You’re so gorgeous.” His fingers burn up my sides on their way to my breasts.

Alex’s words float through my mind. She was right. “You’re corrupting me.”

“No.” He nibbles my collarbone and licks his way to my nipple. I arch beneath him, desperately wanting him to suck it, suck both of them into that hot mouth and devour me whole.

“No?” Because I feel totally corrupted. Totally unlike the me that I usually am.

I gasp when he takes a nipple and rasps his tongue across the tip before sucking hard, rolling it in his mouth sending sharp stabs of pleasure from my nipple to my clit.

“I’m not corrupting you, Rachel. I’m just going to fuck you for a few hours.”

A few
hours
? All the tension leaves my body at once, melting me to the bed.

His weight presses me into an even bigger puddle of want, but then his lips claim mine with the confidence of someone who knows exactly what he’s doing, and every muscle in me tenses at once. I wrap my arms and legs around him, pulling him tighter to me.

His teeth close on my tongue, the pain shocking my eyes open, and he lets me pull it from his mouth but I’m forced to drag it against his teeth to get free.

But when I get free, I want it again.

“Bite me, naughty girl.”

Tentatively, I nip his lip and he grins. I want it again, want him to bite me, so I thrust my tongue in his mouth, forcing the kiss deeper with my hand on the back of his neck. He presses his cock against my clit through my panties and when I gasp he drags his teeth down my tongue again.

My heart stutters in my chest and thunders when he releases it.

It’s like an adrenaline rush more than straight pleasure, but the combination makes me frantically grind my hips against him. My skin’s on fire with a need I’ve never felt before.

“What’s your hurry?” His words are teasing, taunting.

“I’m ready for you.” I’m so ready I can’t stand it.

“Are your pretty pink panties soaking wet?”

“Yes. Soaking. I want you. Now.” I nibble his earlobe, proud of how shamelessly I can say that to him.

He pulls back and kisses his way down my chest. My belly quivers beneath his lips when he gets there. “I’ll fuck you when I’m ready.”

No,
I want to scream.
Now.
I need him now.

He grips my panties in his teeth and drags them down my legs. I’m not even ashamed of my nakedness or that I haven’t trimmed things recently. I’m too filled with longing and aching desire. And now that I’m stripped, I’m hoping relief will come soon.

But Dylan takes his time.I might combust.

My calves tighten then relax in his palms when he starts kissing his way back up my legs. “See, we hardly know each other. I need to know what sounds you make when I kiss you here”—he presses his lips against the delicate crease where my inner thigh meets my body, and my breath rushes from my lungs—“or what your spine does when I lick you here.” His tongue wanders up one side of my seam and down the other.

It arches. My spine arches and my eyes slam shut when he licks me there.

My hands turn to fists when he sucks my labia into his mouth.

My toes curl when he releases them and flicks his tongue back and forth across my clit in fast, teasing licks before locking his mouth around it and working me into a quivering, gibbering mess with his lips and tongue.

I don’t know how long he keeps me teetering on the brink like that. It feels like forever. I can’t take any more, and move to sit up, weakly flapping my hands at his shoulders to push him away.

He growls, and slaps my hands away. “I’m not finished. Your pussy is so fucking sweet, I want you to come on my tongue.”

That’s way raunchier than I’m used to, and the shock of the words nudges me closer to the edge. When he starts humming in time to the fingers he plunges inside me and curls against a spot I’ve only ever found while alone with my vibrator, I shatter, unraveling beneath him in gasps pulsing to the rhythm of the white-hot pleasure he’s creating with his hands and mouth and my body.

“Now, Rachel. Now you’re ready to be fucked.”

Eyes still closed, I nod and spread my legs wider, pliant, his. “Yes, please.”

He settles beside me. “Oh, no. You’re so goddamn sexy right now, all relaxed and pink with contentment. I want to watch you fuck me.”

“What?” I’ve only been on top once and that was in a very dark room when I’d had too much merlot. Any buzz I have left in me is from pleasure, the wine long since burned off with adrenaline. Discomfort slinks into my post-orgasmic haze, but the sight of him stretched out next to me with that thick cock reaching for the ceiling kills it.

I want that inside me. Now.

But what do I do? “I don’t…I’m not used…”

He grins and puts on a condom before holding out his hands. “Come here.”

Coming hard made me surprisingly weak, I discover, when I get to my knees and crawl the short distance to him on shaky legs, taking his hands and accepting his help, maneuvering into place on top of him, knees bracketing his hips. Being spread open like this in full light would normally make me want to dive for the blanket, but Dylan never looks away from my eyes.

Instead of awkward, I feel incredibly sexy and in charge. I’m up here naked and exposed, flaws and all, but he can’t tear his eyes off me. I still don’t know what I’m doing, and I look down at him, pleading.

He reassures me. "I'll teach you. Remember?”

I nod. Fumbling, I reach for his cock. His hand meets mine there and he helps me position him just right at my wet slit. I let go and place my hands on his shoulders, steadying myself, and while I do, he runs his cock up and down my crease a few times. The contact against my still sensitive clit sends aftershocks through my body, and my nails dig into his skin.

Dylan’s eyes half-close and his hands move to my breasts as I sink down onto his cock, working my hips to impale myself as it stretches me from inside in a delicious way that tightens my nipples beneath his palms.

He feels so good. So amazing.

I need this
, I think. I need this memory of this man on this night to last me through the boring, responsible times ahead.

No regrets.

Uncertain at first, I experiment with my motions, rocking up and down until I find the motion that feels the best and makes us both moan. His hands slide down to grip my hips and guide me in an undulating pattern that rubs his tip against a place so deep inside me it almost hurts.

Something else I never tried but always wanted to? Talking a little dirty. Which, for me, means talking at all. Usually I’m silent through sex. I rake my nails down his chest and move a little faster. “You feel amazing inside me.” I feel like an idiot, but keep going. “So hard, and thick. How does that feel for you, Dylan?” That sounded terribly stiff, and I flush as much from humiliation as exertion, but he bites his lip and digs his fingers into my flesh.

“So fucking good. Mmm you’re so tight, and warm, and wet.”

Wow. “What else?”

“Your pussy’s grabbing my cock like it doesn’t want to let go. Turn around, I want to see that tight ass.”

This is new. I stop and swivel around, feeling less awkward when his cock is back inside me rubbing new places. Not being able to see his face makes this feel more detached, like I’m using his body for my own pleasure.

“Lean forward and work that ass.”

I do as he says and swivel my hips, hoping the show he sees is as good as he feels, losing myself in the rhythm for a few minutes.

“Christ that’s hot. You’ve got the most adorable dimples on your lower back. I can’t, I need to fuck you. Get up on your knees.”

His hand slaps my ass and I yelp in surprise—and delight?—and get off him. My pussy throbs in protest at the sudden emptiness, but he yanks me to the edge of the bed on my knees, stands, and shoves himself back inside so hard I cry out and brace my arms to push back against him because hard is
good
.

Dylan starts pounding into me so hard that each thrusts makes a loud slap of skin on skin and
yes,yes,yes
.

His balls slap against my clit and I spread wider, pleasure uncoiling in my lower belly at how fucking good that feels.