“Truthfully, I think he’s happiest that I’ll be living at home again.”
“Is that what you want, Raven? I can look for something in the city. I just wantyouto be happy.”
She bites her bottom lip and stares up at me. “Actually, I thought of a really great idea this week. My dad has been hounding me forever to work at the shop with him, but it’s not my thing. Then, this week when I was telling him about you, he mentioned opening my own shop. Not a tattoo parlor, but an art studio that gives lessons and does drawings for people in town. I thought it was a great idea.” She smiles. “In his desperation to have me home, he’s working on the details right now. Believe me, they’re going to love you. My mom and dad have an age gap too. I’d forgotten about that until I talked to them. I think they just want to see you’re a good guy.” She clears her throat. “I did leave out the part where you are my professor, though. I just said we met on campus. So that might be our little secret… at least until they love you like I do.” She looks away, then narrows her brows. “Love wasn’t what I—”
“I love you too, Raven.” I kiss her forehead. “My body knew I loved you the second I saw you.”
She kicks the door to the office closed with her foot and kisses my lips, dragging her hand through my hair with an energy like she’s hit her limit.
“I need you,” she begs, “right now.”
I know what she’s feeling. It’s an urge so strong that it strangles every other thought until all that’s left is the thumping deep in my stomach that spreads to my groin and feeds my brain with the torturous hunger to claim her.
She kisses my lips again, panting wildly. “But maybe we should wait. I tried to stay away until graduation, but I couldn’t. I know I need to hand in my final project, and I saw Dean Marshalls on the way in, but she didn’t see me. I think she was leaving for the day, but—”
I mute her words with my lips, sliding my tongue across hers in a decadent sweep of desire and desperation. “I couldn’t wait another second if you said the Dean was standing in the hallway watching us.” I lift her onto my desk as my teeth grind closed, my jaw so tight it hurts. I know it’s my body’s way of trying to resist, but it’s too hard. I want her too badly. There’s no one left in the building but for a few straggling students and the janitors. We’re safe for now.
I kiss her neck, then the lobe of her ear, heating her body with my rough beard as I trail down over her collarbone and onto her shoulders. Slowly, I drag each strap down and kiss the path where the fabric has shifted.
Her eyes study mine and hold firm as she unzips my pants and once again, reaches for my cock.
A bolt of heat rivets through me as I unclasp her bra and her large breasts fall onto her chest. She’s a sight to behold as I strip off my pants and pull at her panties.
She stands from the desk and lets the sundress fall to the floor, every curve of her body displayed to me like a fine statue.
I catalog every freckle and crease, committing her to memory for a sketch later. Slowly, she unbuttons my shirt, and runs her hands through the tuft of hair on my chest.
“Last chance to stop me,” I growl, my cock stretched as far as it will go.
She leans forward, resting her elbows on the desk as she swings her ass back and forth, tempting me. From here, I clearly see the roundness of her hips and her swollen pink center, opening like a flower for me.
My throat grows thick with anticipation as my skin heats. She’s wrecked me, and I’m about to snap. I hold my body against hers, the scrape of my cock against her skin enticing me to break, but I hold firm and go slowly, cupping her heavy breasts in my hands. Her nipples are tight and beaded in the cool air of the room. I need to lick them. I need to suck those perfect, little nipples until they’re warm again.
I turn her toward me and bend down, holding her gaze as my tongue hovers over her breasts.
She sucks in a sharp breath as I pull her nipple between my teeth. “Please, professor,” she begs, more breathless than before, “fuck me. Fuck me hard. I need to be spread. Make the ache go away.”
Chapter Seven
Raven
A week ago, I was harboring ill feelings about my college experience not being adventurous enough. Now, I’m bent over the professor’s desk naked, begging him to fuck me. It’s funny how time has progressed.
Gage’s hand travels down from my breasts toward my core. He studies me close with a doleful smile that reminds me of a depraved animal who knows what he’s doing is wrong, but he can’t help himself. It’s a look I’ve been craving. A look that makes my clit throb with an ache so deep I’m afraid nothing will satisfy it.
Dipping a single finger through my seam, he frolics in the wet pleasure already brewing, pulling his digit back once he’s gathered a satisfying dollop. With a smile, he licks his finger clean and stares down at me, still leaned against his desk. “I think that tight little pussy is ready for me.”
I lean up off the desk and stroke his cock in my hand before bending to my knees. Without warning, I slide him inside the warmth of my mouth and lick. I’m not sure if I’m doing it right, but when he groans and spreads his thick fingers through my hair, I figure I can’t be too far off.
“Raven,” he groans with desperation as he thumps into my mouth and holds the back of my head. A few long thrusts and he’s ragged with misery. “Stand up. I have to fuck you, sweetheart. Now!” I love the way he talks. So needy, so anxious to have me, that common civilities go out the window.
I pull off his cock with a popping noise and follow his lead as he bends me forward again, holding the back of my neck with is large hand as he inches his way inside of me with a groan.
“You’re tight,” he pants, pooling warmth on the lobe my hear as he bends forward. “So, fucking tight.” He works himself in slow, giving me time to adjust to his width, but I’ve anticipated him so long that my body is ready to take him.
He’s large, spreading me wide, and the sting is harsh, but it dissipates in seconds, and the pleasure outweighs the pain. His weight pounds against me from behind, slamming the desk into the wall over and over again in a rhythmic series of thumps that are easily distinguished.
My nipples scrape against the cold, metal rings of his sketchpad on his desk as he gathers my hair in his hand and thrusts in deeper. I’m frantic for more and moan out my needs, “Right there, don’t stop.” He’s hit a spot I didn’t know existed. Until now, I’d only ever had a clitoral orgasm with my vibrator, but this… whatever he’s hitting… is better than anything I’ve ever felt and I never want it to end. I grip tight to the side edge of the desk and hold on for dear life as he thumps in harder.