Chapter 38
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
preston
I kiss her neck, all the way up to her ear. “You ready to be an A-plus student today, Miss Thorne?”
“Yes, Doctor,” she moans, making it official. I have a doctor kink now. Only for her, but I have it.
“Get the list out of my pocket,” I whisper. “Read it out loud while my hands are busy. Be good for me, Mia. Help the teacher out. You’ll get your reward.”
“Read it out loud?” Her true shyness peeks through. I want none of that between us. So I give her reason to leave her comfort zone.
I tug her top free of her skirt and slip my hands underneath. Over full breasts, across lace. Her nipples are tight. I rub them, taking advantage of the added texture, and she presses harder into me.
“Unless you want me to stop?”
“Don’t you dare.” Her head hits my shoulder, and the desperation in her voice sends pre-cum to the tip of my aching cock.
“Arms up, Miss Thorne.”
She follows without hesitation. I peel her top off, and gooseflesh races under my palms. But the uncertainty in her eyes gives me pause.
She needs a reminder.
“Who’s in charge here, Mia? Whose instructions am I following? Who am I here to serve?”
A ghost of a smile touches her lips. I’d never miss it.
“Me. I’m in charge.” Her chin lifts.
“That’s right. You’re the boss of a forty-three-year-old man who can’t think straight when you’re close. Keep that in mind if I sound too pushy. You can always tell me to stop, slow down, do it differently. We’re here to find what you like.”
That tiny twitch at her lips blooms into a full grin. She softens in my arms, her shoulders drop against my chest. After a minute, her eyes climb to mine, full of something that looks a lot like gratitude.
She reaches behind her back, unhooks the bra herself, and lets it fall to the floor. Her right hand dips into my pocket for the list. “I’m ready to be the teacher’s pet.”
“Fuck, you’re gorgeous.”
Her breasts are heavy and high, obscene in my hands. I hold them up and tend to each one thoroughly. There’s more than one hand can manage, but I try anyway. My private challenge. One I’ll lose every time, and enjoy every second.
I reach for the bow fastening her skirt, and tug hard. It slips loose, and to my utter disappointment, there’s a damn knot underneath. I scowl at it. “Well, that was anticlimactic.”
Mia laughs her delicious, melodic laugh, and suddenly, I’m not so mad at the annoying knot anymore. It won’t give, so I drop to my knees and pull it apart with my teeth. She gasps, the giggle dying an early death, caught in her throat.
“Pres, wait, let me shut the curtains.”
“No,” I say point-blank, sitting back on my heels and staring up at her. “I have my own hard limits, Mia, and this is one. You don't hide from me. Not your thoughts. Not your feelings. And sure as hell not your body.”
I run my hands over every inch of skin I can reach.
“I need honesty. And I crave your body. I love it. Can’t you see that?
These curves haunt me. From the minute you walked into my house, I knew I’d be tempted for as long as we shared air.
Knew it would be torture, being near you and not touching you. ”
I work on what’s left of the knot. It’s almost loose, but I hold it in place. One pull, and the skirt falls. “Now that I have you, I won’t accept less than all of you. I want to worship you in daylight. Will you let me?”
“You might as well go ahead and ask for my soul, bank details, and pin number too. I’ll give them all.”
She pulls the strip of fabric herself. The skirt drops to her feet, leaving her bare to me.
I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be: on my knees, ready to revere her body and put her on the pedestal she deserves. I drink her in. When I reach her face, her eyes are closed again. Not tense. Not pained. But her nerves are still getting the best of her. And they’re not invited to this party.
“Baby, look at me.”
Mia inhales deep, then exhales even deeper. She gives her shoulders a little shake. I love how hard she’s trying to shed the protective shell she’s used to wearing. To let herself be. Love how brave she is, pushing past insecurities that have probably lived in her skin for years.
But she’s here. Now. Fighting to quiet her thoughts. Fighting to stay with me in this moment. To let the light touch every part of her without flinching.
“It’s not easy, you know.” She trembles a little.
“I’ll make it worth it. I’ll take your mind somewhere else. That is, if you can read while I worship this perfect body?”
“Oh, shut up, Preston.” The bite in her voice is undercut by the sly curve at the corner of her lips.
“As soon as you start talking, baby.”
“No.”
My brows lift. The little brat.
“Is that how you talk to your professor?”
“I want to see you too. Strip, and I’ll read every word in here.” She waves the folded paper like a gauntlet.
Fair is fair. I tackle the first button of my shirt when she stops me with her palm.
“Actually… I want to do it. If you don’t mind.” She pulls me by the hand, and I stand to follow her. We enter the bedroom, and she lays the promised list on the bedside table.
“The only thing I mind is not doing what you want. Ask, and it’s yours.” I kiss her, slow and deep. Her hands sweep over my back, softer than anything I deserve. “I’m yours,” I say against her mouth. “Yours to touch. Yours to use. To do whatever you want.” I guide her fingers to the next button.
With each one she opens, her touch grows bolder. Her hands travel across my chest and stomach, nails grazing, a slow torment, then they climb my shoulders to slip my shirt off.
She traces my skin to my belt. Undoes it. Pops the button off my pants. But instead of going for the zipper, she slides the belt from every loop and drops it on top of my shirt.
My mind goes wild. There’s only one reason she’d bother with that much ceremony, unless the belt’s fair game today. I need to hear that list. Now.
I love being the one who guides her, but this? Letting her lead? It’s a whole new kind of thrill.
I’m too focused on how her hands feel, and suck in a breath when I hear every notch of the zipper parting—tick, tick, tick.
She pulls it down slowly, excruciatingly so.
Every tiny tooth releases with a click I feel in my spine.
She moves with unhurried purpose, and it’s obscene how loud it sounds when my whole world’s gone quiet.
Desire has turned my senses inside out, and right now, the only thing I hear is her.
The only thing I feel is her.
The only thing I see is my imminent undoing.
“I know some of that list by heart, Pres.”
She pushes down what she can of my pants and boxers without kneeling. I finish the job, stepping out of them, socks and all.
“I want to see you. Feel you. Taste you. I don’t want to be denied anymore.”
She wraps one hand around the head of my cock, slick with pre-cum from the car ride. She rubs slow circles over the tip, and I groan, jerking forward, then away, too sensitive for that kind of attention.
Her other hand closes around my length—tight and confident, just like I taught her. I thrust into her grip, slow, steady, fighting the urge to spill on her fingers.
“I’m not here to deny you anything, Mia. I’m here to tend to your every whim.” Our foreheads meet, breaths mingling. “Talk to me. Tell me what you want. I’m at your mercy.”
“Then follow me.” She lets go of my cock and takes my hand, leading me to the end of bed, where she sits at the edge. The height sets her perfectly for what’s coming next.
“Well, professor,” she purrs, “top of my list? Teach me how to suck cock. How to take it deep. How not to gag. How to leave a man speechless and desperate for more of me after I suck him dry.”
Her words drive me the wrong kind of mad. I haven’t fucked Mia yet, and I’m already intent on ruining her for other men. I’m teaching her to suck my cock, and my cock only.
And fuck, I can’t wait to see her choke on it. Eyes watering, drool running down her chin, mouth stretched wide, stuffed full of me.
The irrational beast in my chest roars that the only man she's sucking dry is me.
And yet, underneath that possessive fire, something deeper flickers—because any man lucky enough to know her should be left speechless. Sharing a laugh with her is more than enough. No blow jobs required.
I haul my mind back to the present, to the blue hunger staring up at me. Waiting.
“You’ve seen me, felt me. Now open for another taste, baby.”
That wicked smile, right before she licks her lips, makes my balls tighten.
Her flat tongue drags over the head of my cock, slowly. First the slit, then a circle around the crown. My eyes slam shut.
“I really, really like how you taste.”
“Ditto, baby.”
“Should I suck now?” she asks between licks.
I huff a laugh rather than beg.
“Mia, you’ve got my cock in your hands and mouth. You can do no wrong, baby. Believe me.”
Her lashes frame the intent in her eyes, and she opens her mouth wide, staring straight at me. I watch entranced as she sticks her tongue out, my cock growing impossibly harder in her grip.
Yep, she fixed me, all right.
She takes me—what she can—in one go. Her eyes flutter close, and she exhales through her nose with a soft, aching sound. She releases me with a pop and looks up.
“But I like when you talk to me. I want you to talk me through it. And I want to know how you like it.”
That’s more like it. Me. Not other men. There’s just the two of us here.
“Start with the tip. Lick it good. Lots of spit.”
Mia doesn’t hesitate. Her tongue moves over me, hot and wet, thorough enough that my legs question whether they can survive the lesson. Of course she’d crush this. Mia always strives for excellence.
I gather her hair into a fist, a makeshift ponytail. I need a clear view of that hungry mouth. And a little leverage never hurts.
“Wanna unleash that porn star in you? Spit on it, baby. Get it nice and wet. Show me your mess, pretty girl. Make it shine for me.”
The second the words leave my mouth, I wonder if I pushed too far. But when I see her enthusiasm double with my cock between her lips, every last filter goes up in smoke.
Without missing a beat, Mia lowers my cock and lets a slow string of spit fall onto the tip. It lands messy and perfect, glistening. Then she drags her tongue over the crown, spreading it around.
My hips jerk, and I twitch against her grip. Control leaves me in a broken, breathless, “Fu-u-u-ck.”
She's acing this. Honors-level.
Out loud this time, I say, “Fuck, baby, you’re doing so good. I could come right now, did you know that?”
Her eyes, those wide, tell-it-all eyes, plead with me not to, and I chuckle. “Don’t worry. I won’t. Not yet. We’re going to make this lesson last.”
Damn. That might’ve been my first lie to Mia. Or at the very least, a promise I’m not entirely sure I can uphold.
My star pupil, full of initiative, trails spit down my length in long strokes. “And now?” she asks.
“Now that you got me covered in your spit, you can start taking me in.” She’s already moving before I finish the sentence. “Slow, baby. No rush. Breathe through your nose. If you need more air, stop and take it.”
Please. Please, stop and take it, or I’ll be done for.
“Get used to it. Any inch you get inside that hot little mouth of yours is a gift.” I pause, for my sanity and some air. “One I haven’t earned yet.”
My words have the opposite effect. Either semantics are lost on Mia, or she’s weaponizing them, because she keeps moving forward, taking more of me. Inch after greedy inch. She's hell-bent on testing the limits of human anatomy.
I’m by no means… average. I’ve spent enough time in locker rooms, seen enough porn to know I’m firmly on the higher end of the spectrum. Which right now feels less like bragging rights and more like a goddamn hazard.
She starts to struggle; mouth stretched taut, lips straining around me. Beautiful. She’s about halfway down now, and the deeper I go, the tighter it gets around the head.
“I know you said you wanted to learn not to gag,” I rasp.
She nods—or tries to—with her mouth so full.
And fuck me, the sight alone nearly undoes me.
Eyes bright with the effort while her throat welcomes me in.
“But watching you choke on me? That would destroy me, Mia. Seeing your eyes water, feeling your throat squee—”
Her hands run up my ass, and she pulls me closer, forcing me deeper. I hiss, teeth clenched, fingers knotting in her hair. Not to control her, but to ground myself.
Jesus Christ. She's about to suck the soul out of me.
“You also said you wanted to taste me, which you did,” I manage. “But you didn’t say if you want to swallow.”
She nods again, urgent and obedient, eyes begging me not to stop.
It should be funny, her nodding with my cock crammed down her throat, but there’s nothing humorous about this. It’s hands-down the most erotic thing I’ve ever seen.
She’s not taking me all the way tonight. I know that. But the way she tries, the fire in her eyes… makes me believe she will. Soon.
My thighs twitch, abs clamp. I brace a hand behind her head, the other at her nape, as I breathe through the heat searing my spine.
“There’s more to a blow job than just your mouth,” I grind out. “Pump the rest of my length with your hand.” She does. “Harder. Tighter. Yeah. Just like—fuck—that.”
The warning signs start to stack: tight balls, tense gut, fire coiling lower.
I hand her the final command. “Use your other hand under my balls. Run your fingers… right there. Gentle. Yeah. Play with them, baby. That’s it. You’re doing so fucking good.”
I’m gone.
Every wet glide of her hand, every slick stroke of her tongue, every breath that lands on my inches. Mia’s tearing me apart at the seams. And the wildest part is that we’re only getting started.
“Baby,” I grit, barely coherent, “you feel too fucking good. If you don’t want me to come in your mouth, you need to stop. Right now.”
Mia doubles down and mumbles something. Probably encouragement, maybe victory. I ease my grip on her hair, giving her the chance to pull away. She doesn’t. So I let go… of everything.
I come hard and fast. Pleasure tears through me as I unload down her throat. My knees nearly fold. My brain blanks. She swallows all of it, every drop, every curse I spit while I finish in her mouth.
She doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t slow. Just drains me stupid.
When I finally see straight, she still has me between her lips, moving in slow motion. Her wet, defiant eyes never lose mine. She looks fierce with pride. Drunk on power and surrender at once. It’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.
She pulls back and licks me clean, tongue tracing every inch like she’s collecting a reward. I tremble harder than a leaf, but as promised, deny her nothing.
The look we share now tells me this wasn’t release. It was permission.
To play. To explore. To wreck her next.
And I plan to start with a shower.