I reach up, squeezing her other breast, rolling her nipple between my fingers. Her breathing gets shallow, and she tips her head back.
Now I’ve got a raging hard-on, and it’s getting uncomfortable in my slacks. So I give Maeve’s nipple one final pass with my tongue, relishing the taste, then take her by the waist and turn us both around, tossing her onto the mattress. She lands with a soft gasp, her long hair spread out around her, then smiles up at me.
“You look uncomfortable, Professor.” Her gaze darts to my cock, where it’s trapped in my slacks. “You should probably get naked.”
Goddess.
This witch . . .
I do as she says, slowly stripping out of each layer of clothing. When I get to my vest, inside which I keep my flask, I pull the canister out, then take a deep drink. If I’m going to get through this, I’m going to need all the help I can get.
Maeve watches me with an expression of curiosity rather than repulsion. Does she really not mind this, not mind that I have to drink the blood of other creatures in order to survive? If she does, she doesn’t show it.
I put the flask aside, then continue removing the rest of my clothing. When I get to my slacks, Maeve’s expression grows hungry. Sitting up on her elbows, she watches unflinchingly as I loosen the clasps and ease the fabric down, being careful as I maneuver it around my erect cock.
And then I’m standing there before her, completely naked, precum already beading at my tip.
Maeve gazes at my length, then looks up to meet my eyes.She beckons me with a wiggle of her fingers. And I don’t waste another moment.
I’m on top of her in a breath. She wraps her arms around my neck, bringing my body down atop hers. Her lips are soft and warm, and when she tangles her tongue with mine, I groan. She’s so much more intoxicating than the whiskey I had tonight, and I doubt glimmer dust would give me the same high she does.
Maeve has her legs open, her knees on either side of my hips. My hard cock presses against her heat, straining to slip inside, but there’s one piece of fabric left to remove.
I sit up onto my knees. Maeve is breathing hard, chest rising and falling in the candlelight. I meet her eyes as my fingers find the waistband of her black panties.
For a split second, I consider what I’m about to do. I’ve never fucked one of my students before, have never felt such an unquenchable thirst for someone. Do I really want to do this?
Of course I do.
Clenching my teeth, I rip her panties clean open, relishing the way her breath hitches as I tear the fabric from her body. My gaze flicks from her face to her slit.
She’s smooth except for one narrow strip of purple hair. Her pussy lips are already glistening with moisture, and I reach out to draw my fingers down her slit, to see how ready she is for me. She’s soaked, so wet that my fingers come back slick with her. I hold them up in the candlelight, arching a brow.
She smiles and bites her bottom lip.
I want so badly to fuck her, but I also want to take this slow. So instead of sinking my cock into her, I lower my fingersagain and watch her facial expression as I circle her swollen clit, then press one finger into her pussy. She widens her legs for me, then whispers, “More.”
So I add another finger, making her pussy stretch around them. Then I lean over her and capture her lips, still fingering her, slow and deep.
“You’ve done this before,” I say between kisses, and she lets out a breathy laugh.
“Yes, I’ve done this before.” She puts a hand on my chest and pushes me back a bit, one of her brows arching in the corner. “Jealous, Professor?”
Of course I’m jealous. The idea of some other man lying between her legs makes angry heat race through my veins. The feeling is somewhat foreign to me; I’ve not been jealous of anyone in many, many decades. I’d thought anger was no longer an emotion I had to feel—it was something I’d tamed, something I’d learned to control.
But Maeve Vandermere has proved that I have much less control than I once thought. Around her, I seem to have none. She makes me feral.
“Do you want me to be?” I ask her, and she closes her eyes for a moment as I use the wetness from her pussy and swirl it around her clit.
“Yes,” she finally says.
A rumble leaves me as I continue rubbing her, feeling her clit swelling even more beneath my touch. “Then yes,” I whisper. “I’m jealous. I wanted to break the fingers of the man dancing with you tonight.”
Her lips flicker into a smile, but she doesn’t open her eyes. “His name is Will.Handsome, don’t you think?”
Moving my fingers from her clit, I push them inside her, making her gasp at the sudden stretch. Her eyes flick open, and when she meets my gaze, I say, “Doyouthink?”
Her mouth still tipped into a smile, she reaches up with one hand and pushes her fingers through my hair. Then she whispers, “Not nearly so handsome as you.”
