Page 24 of The Professor's Wife

His other hand went beneath me, finding the zipper at the top of my dress. This perceptive man knew exactly how to undress me even as I lay there at his mercy.

He unzipped it partway down my spine before pulling the top of my dress lower, revealing my black bra. Both hands cupped my breasts, and he squeezed them with glazed eyes before burying his face between them.

I felt his tongue against my skin. Felt him suck and groan, his entire body shaking above me as though he were trying his hardest to restrain himself.

My fingers found his hair. Soft and silky. I pressed them into his scalp, encouraging him.

A moment later, he pulled my bra down and freed my breasts.

He stopped to stare, his panting loud in the room.

“Fuck, Daze,” he groaned, his large hands swallowing them.

He squeezed, and a harsh breath left him. Almost to himself, he whispered, “Fucking perfect.”

Then his tongue darted out to taste one nipple, and I bucked beneath him, overwhelmed by the sensation that bolted down my body.

He settled there for what felt like ages, taking his time as he tasted each breast, his mouth growing bolder and hungrier.

I felteverything.

Every squeeze and nibble.

Every hot breath and tender stroke of his tongue.

He sucked until my skin was pink and tender, and all the while I watched him, my eyes half-lidded, my mouth parted from the pleasure.

“Are you a breast man, Tristan?” I asked breathlessly, grinning down at him.

“Only for yours,” he returned, his blue eyes jumping to mine.

My body stilled at the amusement mixed with something that looked almost like adoration as he watched me.

My grin slipped.

The ease between us should have startled me more than it did. I swallowed and closed my eyes for a long moment. By the time I opened them again, he was moving down my body.

The warmth of him left me, and for a brief moment I felt empty. My hands remained tangled in his hair while I watched him raise my dress.

Slowly.

Taking his time.

That glazed look intensified as my black panties came into view. He bunched the dress above my stomach and buried his face between my thighs, his teeth grazing the fabric.

I jolted, gasping as he skimmed over the most sensitive part of me.

“Oh, God.”

His eyes flashed up to mine, and his lips curved into a devilish smirk. My palms were damp, my heart beating wildly as that smile intensified my desire tenfold.

“I’d prefer my name when you come,” he teased, though there was no mistaking the tightness in his voice. The need lurking there.

My lips curved into a smile. “Then make it good.”

I barely recognized myself. This looseness. This carelessness that allowed me to make such a demand.

His eyes sparked to life at the challenge. “I will.”