The Professor Ep. 03

Now, I'd really thought I was dreaming. Curiously, I'd reached out and let a single finger lightly trace the curve of his spine. He was real. He was warm. And I was very much in this man's bed.

His steady breathing changed at my touch and he rolled over. Moonlit filtered in through the curtains touching that handsome--no-longer-hidden-behind-bulky-glasses--face.

He slid closer and leaned over my body enough for me to feel like he wouldn't have let me leave even if I tried. His hand lingered at my cheek until eventually, he let himself brush hair behind my ear.

"How are you feeling?" His voice was coarse from sleep and his breath warm across my chilled face.

"B--better," my own voice came out dry and I stuttered. I did feel off and it hit me that maybe, I was actually getting sick and that the overheating and dizzy spells weren't solely because of him.

"Did you... bring me to your place?"

His jaw feathered. Briefly, I wondered if something might have happened. He was shirtless and his hair tousled. Panicked, I looked down. My clothes remained.

"What happened?" I asked, and tried to look anywhere but his eyes. I settled for his neck. The curve of it tempting.

"You passed out. I don't know where you live and it wouldn't have been good if I'd been seen carrying around a student, so I brought you here. You had a fever, but it broke some time ago."

"You could have taken me to the school infirmary."

He went rigid. He knew he made a bad call--logically speaking--but it hadn't stopped him.

"That wasn't my primary focus," he finally said, his voice darkening and his eyes shifted, trying to read my face. I felt him tense beside me, even his hand stilled in my hair and his next words were hardly a whisper, "I wanted to see to it myself you were looked after."

For a while, he waited for me to speak, refusing to expand on that declaration. But regardless of who spoke next, I sensed it would spell trouble. And somehow, unlike the risk-averse good girl I'd lived life by, I craved chaos in the form of this man.

I took the invitation and directed it down the dangerous path I wasn't fully prepared to take though sensibility had long been forgone. "And now, I'm in your bed... with you and you're..." my eyes trailed to his chest. His defined, muscular torso of golden-tan skin. All kinds of senses flared. Some terrifying, others lustful, and a few unidentifiable.

Slowly, his hand moved in my hair again. Then to my cheek, making me face him. I was surprised what I found. Desire my have filled that gaze, but fear seemed to cloud it.

"Professor Voss--"

"Cole," He said quietly, "The other students call me Voss, I don't want you to. Not here... Emma."

Heat scorched my core and the chill of whatever I had turned to fire. My lips parted. Incapable at first of speaking his name, but after weeks of listening to his lectures, watching him present, of researching all the great work he'd done, something in me broke. That need in me to be good--to follow rules. I was going to break them all for him.

"Cole," I whispered and he went eerily still, so I said again, "Cole," and it felt smooth on my tongue. I wondered if his lips would feel just as so.

Wondering was short lived because my professor--Cole, someone I wasn't allowed to have--maneuvered his body over mine. He lowered his face, and paused a breath's length away. His shallow, uneven breaths were not only audible, but palpable. The weight of each staggered inhale and exhale had our bodies connecting. Suddenly, the barrier of my clothes felt overwhelming and wrong. I wanted them off.

And Cole, he wanted this. Undeniably, deeply wanted... me.

But, he waited. Waited for my response. For my acceptance--an approval of what he was inviting. Without hesitation, I arched forward into the mere fraction of distance between us, bringing my lips to meet his and something came alive.

Immediately, the uneasiness I'd felt melted into pure carnal need. Our breathing became a harmonious uneven pairing of batted breaths. His hands griped at my sides, at my waist, my neck, trying to refrain from going too fast. Every time I tried to push him to a limit, to get him to go further, he slowed me down.

"Not yet," He insisted though his voice spelled agony. "Slow down, I won't rush this."

But I wanted to. His pace killed me. It was fast, but not fast enough. I knew he felt the same because his hands explored me like I'd disappear and the bulge in his jeans pressed into me hard and ready. I squirmed beneath him, dying from my own needs.

With each article of clothing he removed, his pacing worsened and he moved quicker, his sounds becoming primal.

As we got down to our underwear, his dark, satisfied chuckle lulled in my ear as his cock pressed against my center finding me wet, even through his boxers and my panties.

Teeth, gently biting my shoulder blades, at my ears, and nipping at my neck, all undid me. But when his hands moved to pin mine above my head and one trailed down to discover just how wet he'd made me, he groaned and I found myself fully succumbing to him. I rode his hand, wishing it were his cock already. It drove him mad and we kept feeding off the each other's growing insatiable lust. If we'd had any semblance of hope of regaining logic and ending whatever this had become, it was inevitably gone.

His touch, his smell, his voice, his.. everything. I was hooked. I barely knew Cole, but in my mind, I wasn't ever turning back. I wanted this man for myself and I was going to have him at all costs.

As his fingers moved in pleasing ways between my clit and inside me, my need became too much and I moaned, "fucking fuck me already, damnit!"

Whatever need to savor the moment before now, left him. My order turned those eyes hungrier than anyone had ever looked at me. He tore my lace panties from my hips and whipped his cock out so fast he was in me before I could feel impatient.

The length and thickness of Cole filled me incomparable ways and when he hoisted my legs up his sides, elevating me and allowing himself deeper inside, I arched with pleasure. My body tingled, feet curled, and I felt my heart race--unable to slow my breathing. Cole's groans were deep, almost growl-like. I'd never heard a man make those noises. I felt like something to be devoured.

And I loved that.

Every thrust sent another wave of satisfaction through me. Sensations increased and I knew I would cum soon. Cole pounded me like a beast, before beginning to thumb circular motions over my clit. It was unbareble. Everything became too much and my orgasm hit me like a crashing wave. Spots clouds my vision and my involuntary flinching was the strongest it had ever been.

Cole grew harder in response, pressing me into the sheets, refusing to let my body twitch off of his. He groaned with every flinch my hips took and he pushed further in, not allowing for any space to exist between us. My orgasm lasted so long I thought I might black out like I had earlier in the day, but just before that could happen, Cole came. I felt the warmth of him fill me. Somehow, though much slower now, he kept going.

With reluctance, I pushed him back and begged breathless, "Please... I can't."

He chuckled and came to a stop. Taking my hand from his chest, he raised it to his lips and kissed the inside of my wrist. Once, then twice, before he lowered to kiss my forehead, cheeks and lastly, my lips. It was the kind of attentive affection I wasn't accustomed to. My heart fluttered in a new way.

Eventually, Cole rolled over and pulled me into the crook of his arm. Not long after sleep found me elated and exhausted.

The next morning I woke with exhaustion in the best sense. Cole led me to his shower. Hands glided down my body indulgently. Slowly, he washed my chest, my ass, my legs, my neck, before he'd massaged shampoo into my hair. After the pampering, Cole movements changed. Gently, he pressed me to the wall of his stone shower. The chill of the stones ran up my spine. Cole's rock-hard body folded possessively over mine until eventually, he reached around my hips to hoist me up.

In me again, the heat from the shower and from him was too much. The cool stones behind me was all that kept my senses from fading. Every kiss his tongue drew from my mouth made me wetter. His wicked smile appeared once his body felt how badly I craved him. He fucked me against the stone wall, on the shower floor, and until I became wobbly. Diligently, this man dried my body before his own and then swept me up and carried me back to bed.

When he'd pulled me into him again, I began to think Cole didn't know the meaning of pacing oneself. Though this time, the kisses were sweet and patient. His hands were modest and only found innocent places to touch, like the sides of my neck, before lacing his fingers with mine.

I knew I was being spoiled. I knew the bar was set high now. No man had ever satisfied me affectionately or sexually as he had. How could anyone compare afterward? I was doomed. Maybe that was his intention. And if it was, I sort of liked that idea. I wanted someone to want me to the point of making all others seem dull by comparison. I wanted passion, and excitement, and a hint of danger. Cole delivered on all fronts.

And...

There was something about the way silk felt across skin after a steamy shower. And there was something about the way rain hit a window pain in soft, gentle patters in the morning. And... there was something about the skin of a man you're not supposed to touch... that would drive you wild.

So there I laid. Breaking rules, and as I stared into those eyes utterly enamored by me for reasons I couldn't fathom, I decided I'd let the world burn before I'd allow whatever I had with Cole, to end.

The End!

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