Page 74 of The Professor's Wife

When we finally pulled apart, breathless and quiet, he rested his forehead against mine and whispered, “I swear, every time I kiss you, it feels like I’ve been holding my breath for years.”

I smiled softly and whispered back, “Then breathe, Tristan. I’m right here.”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

TRISTAN

I breathed, but I still felt like I was submerged in water. This fucking woman deprived me of oxygen, made my head swim, and my vision fog.

My favorite taste was her mouth, her skin, the wet heat between her legs. I kissed her mouth, but I wanted to kiss her everywhere else. All the fucking time. Run my tongue along her naked flesh and suck at every curve. The urge to mark her was overwhelming—

And I loved her fucking sounds.

Oh, God.

I kissed her just to hear her breath catch. I sucked her tongue and ran my hand down her little body so I could hear that cock-hardening moan she tried to suppress.

I laid her down on that dock, her beautiful back pressed against the wood as I caressed her, taking my time even though all I wanted was more.

“Daisy.”

I worshipped her name. It was its own language in my head.

Daisy fucking Daisy fucking Daisy.

DaisyDazeDaisyFuckingDaisyAllDayLong.

Where did you come from, Daisy?

How did you know to find me?

I am so fucked up, Daisy. You would have nothing to do with me if you knew how angry and mean I could be.

Daisy.

Fuck, Daisy.

My kiss deepened. My tongue searched her mouth. My cock pulsed in my pants as I slid a shaky hand up her leg. Under her dress. Over her underwear.

My thumb brushed along her pussy—

She jolted, gasping into my mouth.

I stilled. “Tell me to stop.”

“Don’t stop.”

I couldn’t recognize my own voice when I asked, “Did you like that, Daze?”

Gruff and desperate.

I sucked her bottom lip as I repeated the motion, running my fingers along her folds and rubbing her slowly as she groaned into the encroaching night.

I pulled back just enough to watch her pleasure. Her eyes were shut, her mouth gaping open. Her hips rocked against my hand.

“Pull the strap down,” I whispered.

She didn’t hesitate. Lost in pleasure, she shakily slipped one strap from her shoulder and tugged the dress down far enough to expose one cup of her bra. I stopped stroking her long enough to pull the cup down.