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“No underwear, Theodora?”
“It didn’t go with the dress,” she explains, laughter in her voice. “A fashion fauxpas.”
“And what was the purpose of the dress, aside from driving me to the brink of madness?”
“To get you on your knees,” she answers. “Of course.”
So I do. I get on my knees and bury my head between Theodora’s legs, feasting on her, tasting the sweet nectar between her thighs, the intoxicating proof of her desire for me. She’s incredibly responsive, every lap of my tongue drawing shivers and husky cries from her.
It’s the most addictive sensation I’ve ever felt—the sensation of giving Theodora pleasure.
It’s a sort of power, the only power I could ever hope to hold over her. It’s a power I hold in my tongue, in my fingers, a power I use to dangle her right over the edge of a cliff. When she grows still, her breath caught in her throat, her fingers gripping the edge of the desk, the sensation is almost overwhelming. She comes against my mouth with a cry of shock and pleasure, and I don’t quite let her ride out her orgasm, desperate to feel it with her.
Surging to my feet, I flip her around so she’s facing the desk. She flattens herself down of her own volition, fingers splayed out, and tilts her hips to meet me in a silent invitation. I roll on a condom and guide myself inside her. She’s dripping wet, and I let out a groan as I slide in with one thrust, forcing myself to pause, to let her adjust.
It’s hard, desperate fucking at first, taking something I’ve been craving for so long, taking what I need more than air. And then, I lower myself against her, lacing my fingers through hers against the table. Her head rises, settling into the crook between my shoulder and neck, filling my senses with the fragrance of her hair.
“Feels so good,” she rasps, arching into me. “Oh god, Zachary, please… feels so good.”
I come in a shudder of surprise, a broken cry escaping my throat. My thrusts grow frantic at first, then finally stop. We lie against the desk for a long moment as I soften inside her, and when I make to stand up, Theodora’s fingers grip mine.
“No,” she whispers. “One more minute. Please.”
With a rasping chuckle, I settle against her, kissing her head through her hair.
“This would be more comfortable if we were in a bed,” I point out.
“We don’t have a bed,” she replies.
“No. But we will, one day. We’ll have an apartment and a bedroom and a bed where we can have sex for as long as we like and then cuddle twice as long.”
Theodora’s body stiffens underneath me, and I frown, wondering if she’s about to push me away. But she doesn’t.
We linger for a long time, and then we fix ourselves, and I walk her back to the girls’ building. We bid each other goodnight and part ways, but for the rest of the night, a strange weight of inexplicable dread settles on my chest.
ThenexttimeIsee Theodora, in our usual place in the library, she greets me with a quick little smile that immediately puts me at ease.
“Have you started Mr Ambrose’s Hegel assignment yet?” She shakes her head and rubs her forehead. “It has to be the worst Apostles assignment yet.”
“Not a fan of Hegel, then?” I ask in a light tone, settling myself down at her side.
She points at the pile of books on the desk next to her laptop. It’s tall enough to reach higher than her head. “It’s all the reading. And it’s so dense. I genuinely don’t know how I’m going to find the time.”
“Would you like to collaborate?”
“Collaborate with you?” She narrows her eyes. “I don’t know if I trust you.” I open my mouth in a scandalised gasp, and she hurries to add, “Academically, that is. I don’t know if I can trust youacademically.”
“I’m good enough to take to your bed but not good enough to help with your assignment?”
She looks around in concern, and when she’s reassured there’s nobody around to hear us, she leans towards me and says in a lowered voice, “That’s because I trust you to make me come, but I don’t trust what you’re willing to do to win against me.”
I let out a burst of frank laughter, flattered and amused by her honesty.
“The competitionisstiff now there are only four of us,” I admit, pulling my laptop open.
“Exactly.”
“Well, if I can’t help you with the reading, then would you at least like to have a look at my notes?”
