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“You’re so wet.” His whisper feathers along the inside of my thigh. “So tight. Damn, you’re perfect.”
Perfect? I’ve never felt more perfect than at this moment. He presses another finger into my womanhood. I can feel my body closing around him, tightening as the pressure within me builds. I’m so close to tumbling over the edge, I nearly gasp when he removes his touch. I release an impatient moan. “Zach, please. Don’t stop.”
He blows a playful puff of air against the inside of my thigh. “Patience.”
His mouth closes over my tight nub, sucking and tasting me until I can barely stand. My knees buckle, and he quickly loops the last leg supporting me over his other shoulder. His hands move to my hips, holding me in place against the wall while his tongue traces naughty spirals against my clit. The same pressure from before skyrockets upward, surging with a blinding pleasure that only he has been able to arouse.
His tongue glides in and out of me, enjoying me like a rare delicacy to be savored. One final stroke, and I shatter. All the tightness in my body releases, and a stream of pure heat and ecstasy weaves through my body.
Is that what an orgasm is supposed to feel like?
If so, why the hell have I stayed a virgin for this long?
Chapter Fourteen
Zach
She sounds as beautiful as I imagined.
Every moan, every bite of her lips is enough to satisfy me. I want her. I need to possess her with every last breath in me. But I’ve already let things spiral too far out of control.
No one can see us here. No one has to know what happens.
I would know. There would be no mistaking our attraction if we carried on like this. It couldn’t be a one-release of pleasure. I would never be able to get enough of her. Aly is not a one-time affair. She’s not even a quick fling to ferry me between the wretched relationships orchestrated by my usual social circle.
She was a lifetime.
Eventually, someone would find out. If not here, we would slip up somewhere. I can barely control my feelings for her as it is. How the hell would I be able to maintain appearances in front of a lecture hall full of students?
And everything she had worked so hard to earn would be lost forever. All because I could not control myself. She’d never forgive me. And I would never forgive myself.
I move her legs off my shoulders and help her feet to the floor. She is still breathless, her body flat against the wall as she collects her bearings. Stray strands of her fiery red hair cling to her face, and I brush them to the side. My lips touch her cheek. Her flesh is hot beneath my mouth. Another bolt of electricity streams down to my cock. It’s ready, but I’m not willing to make the sacrifice yet.
“Why did you stop?” she asks huskily. The rasp in her voice does things to my self-control, and I have to remind myself why I’m pulling away.
“Still not satisfied?”
She smiles, her teeth clamping over her lower lip. She’s still not looking at me, still gathering her breaths. It’s probably for the best. I can barely control myself as it is. Now she’s added this whole new swell to my ego, and it’s impossible for me not to want to top it with an encore.
“Very,” she whispers. “But I thought-”
“We’re moving a little fast. Don’t you think?” It’s the only excuse I can manage. If I tell her we should just maintain our typical professor-student relationship, she would accuse me of playing games.
Is that what I’m doing? Playing games with fate? I want this woman more than anything, but I have never allowed my desires free rein over my control. It was the one thing I felt that always separated me from my father in the courtship department. His marriage to my mother was a business merger, just like the expectations for my eventual marriage. But he could never remain faithful to her. He always allowed his desires to guide him down the wrong path. And my mother paid the price for it all these years. Not him.
It couldn’t have been easy watching him leave each night. Or watching him return with that all-telling pep in his step from a supposed business trip he never took.
He made me hate the idea of marriage.
And now here I am. Following in his footsteps. Letting my desire get the better of me.
Aly turns to face me. Confusion colors her features. Whether as a result of me telling her we should take a step back or the sudden bout of silence I’ve slipped into for the last minute.
“We should try to take things a little slower,” I add, reassuring myself now more than her.
Her hands rest at my chest. She looks down between us at the bulge in my pants. Even after all of the warnings in my head about unhappy marriages and my father, it’s still not enough to kill the mood.
“But what about you?” she asks.
