Chapter 56
Chapter Fifty-Six
B eaufort
“I … I couldn’t sleep,” she says.
I crook my finger and beckon her. Her hand rests on the banister. She doesn’t move.
“You’re worried about the trial.”
She nods.
“Come here,” I command and she stays where she is.
“Little thrall,” I whisper, “you wanted to see me.” She bites at her lip. She’s always fighting this connection. But I’m no fool. I know now that she feels it. That she’s finding it as hard as I am to resist. “So come here and see me.” She creeps into my study like a shy little rabbit, stopping by my desk and leaning her hip against it. I can’t help myself. I swivel my chair around to face her, taking a grip of her thighs and pulling her towards me.
This time, she comes willingly, a flush on her cheeks and something in her eyes leading me to believe there’s more than her fears about the trial on her mind. In fact, I believe she’s come here seeking distraction from those fears.
“Do you always work this late?” she asks, as I draw my hands up her legs and squeeze her ass through the material of her sleep pants.
“I find it hard to sleep. I have a lot on my mind.”
“You’re a shadow weaver, what could you possibly have on your mind?”
“It’s complicated.”
“Have you ever had to worry if you’ll have enough money to buy food for the next week? Have you ever worried there’ll be no food left in the cupboard come tomorrow? Have you ever had to worry they’ll take your home away?”
“No,” I say, I dip my head to meet her gaze. “But I take it you have.”
She nibbles at her lip and, shit, I want to do that. “Yes.”
“Not anymore,” I say.
She opens her mouth to say something, then changes her mind, meeting my gaze with her own instead.
“Tell me what you’re worried about, little one.”
She rolls her eyes. “Everything. I don’t have powers like you. I may not make it out.”
“You will,” I say confidently.
“You don’t know that for sure. Every year, students end up–”
“It won’t happen to you,” I say, that vision flickering in my mind.
I reach up and cup her cheek, stroking the pad of my thumb over her plump bottom lip.
Maybe she sees all the heat burning in my pupils, or maybe I’m thinking this is more than it is and all she wants is that distraction. Either way, a little whimper escapes her throat and the next thing I know, she’s climbing up to straddle my lap.
“Shit,” I mumble as she rubs her core against me.
“Maybe there’s something that could help both of us to sleep.”
“Don’t you have your–” I start to say but I don’t finish my words because she’s kissing my mouth hungrily.
“It’s over.”
I smile against her lips. I should have known it would be like this. The girl does not act like she should. One moment she’s hating on me, hissing and spitting into my face, the next she has her tongue inside my mouth.
I yank her closer still, so her sex is pressed right up against my erection and then I’m guiding her hips to rub against me.
She bites down hard on my bottom lip, making me groan.
“Not enough,” she pants.
“Not enough?” I repeat. “You want more, little thrall?”
“Uh huh.” She pants as I draw my hand up under her shirt and squeeze at her tit, finding her stiff nipple and brushing the pad of my thumb back and forth over it.
“What do you want?” I say, against her mouth. “Do you want to be fucked?”
She whimpers again and I think that’s the closest I’m going to get to a yes.
“Because I really really want to fuck you, little thrall,” I mutter, scrabbling to remove her pajama pants and then her panties; simple, plain things. I snap open the drawer of my desk, stuff the panties inside, and grasp around for a rubber. I break off our kiss to rip open the wrapper with my teeth.
Then I’m instructing her to lift up on her knees as I unbuckle my belt and yank down my pants, freeing my stiff cock.
Her eyes are wide as I roll the rubber down my cock, and then my hands are back on her hips, firm, unyielding. I’ve waited long enough. I’ve been patient. Now I’m going to have the girl.
I brush my thumb over her stiff sensitive nub, and then I guide her down onto me.
We groan in unison as I push inside her and I know my cock inside her feels just as good as her pussy does wrapped tightly around my cock.
“Okay?” I say, my voice catching in my throat. She nods, resting her fingertips against my chest, tension on her face.
“Just …” She shudders. “It’s been a while …” She swallows. “Go gently.”
Go gentle?
I want to bite my own damn fist. All I want to do is slam her up and down my cock, to fuck her hard, to make her scream.
Maybe with any other girl I would. But I want this to be more than a one-time-only thing. I want her to enjoy it. I want to fuck her over and over again, willingly. I want her to want it.
“Then you take control, little thrall,” I tell her. “You bounce up and down on my cock just how you want to.”
A little strangled noise escapes her throat and then she’s lifting up onto her knees, my cock slipping through her wet pussy, caressed by her velvety walls.
When she reaches the top, and only my cockhead lingers inside of her, she whimpers again and her fingernails dig into my shoulders.
“Does it feel good?” I murmur, looking up at her.
“Uh huh,” she murmurs, gliding back down me.
It’s slow and considered – a fucking tease of a fuck and maybe I like it this way. The girl has been teasing me right from day one and fuck I have loved it.
She circles her hips, moaning because that must feel good, before rising up again.
I lean forward and nip at her throat, threading open the buttons of her top and sliding it open. Her tits are a perfect handle of a size, her nipples pink and stiff and delicious. I lean in and capture them in my mouth, swirling my tongue around them, feeling them crinkle further still.
“Your pussy feels so damn good. So tight, so wet, so perfect.”
I wonder why the fuck she ever fought this. All those weeks wasted when we could have been doing this and nothing else.
“Now I know how good you feel, I’m going to fuck you all the time. You’re never going to leave my bed.”
She sinks back down onto me, this time with a little more force and I grunt.
“Yeah, sweetheart, just like that.”
“You’re so …” She screws up a brow.
“Big?” I suggest, smiling to myself. I’ve been told often enough that I am.
“Chauvinistic,” she clarifies. “You say such sexist bullshit.”
“I think you like what I say. I think you like my dirty mouth.” I flick at her nipples, then lick up her neck and capture her mouth with mine, kissing her hard as her movements along my cock become faster, harder, more frantic.
I begin to meet her with a thrust from below every time she slams down on my cock and she lets out little cries of ecstasy, shaking her head from side to side as if she can’t handle just how good this makes her feel, a blush blossoming across her flesh.
“I think you like my words. I think you like my fingers. And most of all I think you like my cock,” I grunt.
And then I’m gathering her up into my arms and lifting her to lie on my desk. I push her down flat and paw at her tits, watching as she arches her back, pressing her breasts into my palms. I fuck her hard, the solid desk shaking beneath her and books crashing to the floor, my bottle of whisky tumbling that way too and smashing into a million pieces.
I want to see her come again. I want to make this good for her too. I press my thumb to her clit and soon it’s quivering and she’s writhing on my desk, ecstasy racing across her face. She cries out and with a grunt, I join her, collapsing over her, my brow damp with sweat.
I find her mouth again. I kiss her deep and slow as the aftermath of pleasure pulsates through my body, from my balls all the way to the top of my head and the tip of my toes. She kisses me back, sucking on my tongue and I find her hands and thread our fingers together. I have no desire to move. I’m still inside her and I want to remain there.
Because now I’ve had her, I’m never letting her go.