by Shayla Black
“Just this once,” I whispered to myself. “Grant us this one night.” I hooked my fingers into her panties and slowly, painfully slowly, exposed her to me. She was pink and soft, and fuck me, her legs shifted anxiously, wrinkling the comforter beneath her as she awaited my mouth. I knelt between her spread thighs, staring at her beautiful body. I ran my hands down the sides of her ribs, over the curve of her waist and the swell of her luscious hips until my fingers brushed down her thighs, her skin like silk.
She whimpered before dragging in a strangled breath and her hands flew to either side of the pillow below her head, clutching it. “Professor,” she moaned.
Fuck. “Say that again,” I growled.
She blinked, her toes curling against the dark purple bedspread, and she lifted her head to look at me. “Professor?” Her mouth curled into a smirk. “You like that?”
I shuddered, digging my fingers harder into where I was clutching her thighs. I inched my mouth closer to her beautiful clit. “It’s so fucking wrong,” I said, more to myself than to her.
What was I doing? It’s so fucking wrong. Yes. Exactly. There was a reason directors shouldn’t fuck their actresses. And there was definitely a reason professors shouldn’t fuck their students. With everything happening, it was my job to uphold these ethics and morals. It was my job to set an example—and now because one sexy student got tipsy and batted her eyes at me, I was going to risk throwing away my career—and potentially her career—for one night of carnal pleasure?
But then…Hazel moaned my name. “Reid,” she cried, dragging her hands down to her breasts and pinching her nipples. The sound of my name on her scarlet, plump lips was the most beautiful sound I’d ever heard. It was more beautiful than any song I’d heard sung on stage. More beautiful than the most moving play I’d ever directed.
All my doubt, all my fear dissolved with that single sound.
Gently, barely a flutter, I traced the outside of her clit, circling it with my tongue. Nothing in the world had ever tasted sweeter. No Moscato. No cake. Not even honey tasted this decadent.
One night would never be enough.
I slid my hands up to her smooth pussy and spread her wide before flattening my tongue, gliding it firmly up her length in a hard, firm lick.
Her body jerked beneath me and her legs writhed. My dick was so hard it was physically painful. Hard and throbbing and my balls were tight and drawn up against my body. But I didn’t want to rush this. I didn’t want to speed through it. I wanted to savor every second, every taste.
With a featherlight touch, I circled my finger at her opening and slowly pushed inside of her, stroking from within her body until I found the textured nub deep inside. I wrapped my lips around her clit as she moaned, grinding into my face.
I inhaled her scent. Swallowed every whimper and moan. My fingers dug into her flesh while the other twisted and pumped inside of her. Then, I devoured her wet little cunt. All that control I was so mindful of moments ago went out the window. I lapped at her clit, sucked, nibbled, bit, and swallowed every drop of her arousal.
“Oh my God,” she cried and her knees tightened around my body as her pussy clamped around my finger, spasming. I devoured her orgasm, drinking it in and relishing in her pure, undiluted pleasure. Glancing up, I watched her face as she came, her tight expression relaxing as the pulses within her body slowed and her leg muscles relaxed, completely satiated. It was a gorgeous sight, and when she blinked her eyes open, they landed on mine, wet and full of wonder.
I withdrew my finger, bringing it to my lips and sucking it clean. “Fuck, you taste amazing, Hazel,” I said.
She panted heavily, her brows drawing together as she continued staring at me. “That’s never happened to me before,” she said, regarding me carefully.
I tilted my head. She had to be joking. “No one’s ever gone down on you?”
“No, of course they have,” she said. “That’s not what I meant. But it’s never made me come before.”
How was that even possible? She was so responsive. Everything I needed to know to make her come was written in her moans and her little movements. And yet…I couldn’t ignore the small thrill I got from knowing I was her first.
Whatever hope I’d had for self-control shattered with her admission. I wanted her. I wanted her badly. Something deep inside told me that fact wasn’t going to change with one night of passion. But hell, I was willing to try.
9
Hazel
It’s just one night. It’s just one night…
I repeated the mantra over and over in my head. And I would keep repeating it until I believed it in my heart. With the way his eyes were locked onto me, intense and sexy, I wasn’t sure either of us believed that this was only for tonight.
Our attraction to each other and our history was bad enough when we were simply teacher and student. But now? Now that I was the lead in his workshop? An intensive that all the women in our class were clambering over each other to get? I would be ruined if this got out. My reputation, or whatever was left of it, would be shattered.
My limbs were trembling as waves of pleasure rolled down my limbs like aftershocks following an earthquake. I was suddenly very aware of the fact that I was completely naked and he was…not. Not even close. He still had layers upon layers of clothing on.
I wiggled against my bed and tried to pull the sheet over top of myself, but Reid caught me, seeming to know immediately what I was doing…how I was feeling.
“Hey.” He cupped my jaw, tilting my gaze back to his. “Don’t get shy on me now.”
Those jitters were instantly muted as he stared intensely into my eyes and I sucked in a sharp breath as the aftershocks of my orgasm dissipated, leaving behind an entirely different sensation. It felt like my limbs were beneath water.
I swallowed, and instead of reaching to cover myself up more, I tugged his polo shirt over his head, tossing it to the side. I gasped at the sight of his bare torso. For the multiple times he had seen me without clothes, this was the first time I’d truly gotten a glimpse of his body. I sat up and admired him as he continued to strip, pushing his pants from his slender hips. I gasped as they slid down his muscular thighs and my eyes met his heavy cock, thick and hard and jutting out toward me with one single vein running along the top.
I licked my lips, slowly raking my gaze up his body until I met his eyes once more, lifting my brow playfully. “Professor Reid Bradley goes commando?” I whispered and it was far throatier than I intended.
Lust slammed through my body despite the fact that I’d just come. I was in awe over the amount of strength and power packed into his chest and arms. He didn’t look overly thick beneath his clothes, but now in the flesh? He was pure, hard muscle. Everything from his thick shoulders down to his washboard abs that I easily could have strummed the grooves like the strings of a guitar.
“Enjoying the view?” he asked, chuckling.
“You have no idea.”
He climbed over me, that tight body of his inches away, and I lifted my palms, brushing them down the strong curves of his biceps. As I got more confident, I stroked his muscles harder until finally, I scraped my nails down his back, landing at his ass and pulling his body flush against me.
We both moaned with the contact as his mouth fell to mine, tongue plunging between my lips. His swollen cock pressed against my clit and nestled into the folds of my pussy while I rocked against his length, now wet with my arousal.
He tore his mouth from our kiss, a groan wrenched from his throat as he threw his head back. The sounds of the city outside my window muted. The room grew darker, and everything faded away except for Reid and me. And this moment. With the moonlight edging over his sharp, chiseled jaw, I studied his face. The angle of his strong nose and high cheekbones. Sharp green eyes that fell heavily closed when he was in pleasure.
He was utterly breathtaking. He was so intensely handsome that it could almost be suffocating if I let it.
His hand scooped i
nto my hair, lifting my head to his, and our noses brushed, pausing before he kissed me slowly. Gently. I whimpered as his tongue slid against mine, growing hungrier, firmer, and faster.
“Condom,” he whispered. “We need a condom now.” We were in a fury of lust and hands and limbs and lips. Without removing my tongue from his neck, I reached over to my nightstand, clumsily, and yanked out a condom from the top drawer. That pack had been sitting there collecting dust for months, but finally they had a use.
He took it from me, tore the wrapper with his teeth, and in one quick movement, sheathed his cock.
As he positioned himself at my entrance, my throat felt thick and I dug my nails into his shoulders, gripping them hard as I trembled and panted, awaiting the feel of him inside me. Without him, I suddenly felt empty. Incomplete. Hollow. Oh, God, please…I inwardly begged.
Then, he thrust inside of me. My back arched off the bed with the movement and we groaned in unison as my knees trembled. He buried himself to the hilt, impossibly deep, stretching me, filling me.
He paused only for a moment, waiting for my acknowledgment that I was okay. Which I gave him by curling my legs around his waist and digging my heels against his ass, urging him to move inside of me.
He took the hint, and with a hiss through his clenched teeth, he fucked me, thrusting and slamming in rapid movements.
Oh my God. Stars appeared in my vision as I tilted my head back, my tits bouncing against the fast, slick rhythm he set. I forgot how delicious being fucked could be.
His cock stroked me from the inside as his hands explored my body, pinching, squeezing, circling all my most intimate areas. He was bracing his body weight on one arm while the other gripped my hip tightly.
It shouldn’t have felt this good—but God, it did.
“Touch yourself,” he commanded. “Let me see how you play with your clit when you think about me.”
I gasped as his punishing thrusts grew faster, more erratic, and I dragged my hand down between my breasts, over my stomach until I reached my clit.
I circled myself, the sensation on my bundle of nerves almost too intense…too much to take with his thick length stretching me to my brink.
I gasped and bit my bottom lip to try to stop it from trembling. His gaze never left my face, studying me intensely. Worshipping me with those gorgeous green eyes of his.
“Fuck me,” he groaned.
The pressure inside me built, and if I didn’t come soon, I thought I might explode. “I’m going to…” I tried to get it out, but the words shattered somewhere along the way from my throat to my tongue.
He was pounding harder, faster now as my head fell back, my climax overtaking my body, making my legs straighten and my spine curve off the bed, pressing my breasts against the coarse hair on his chest. Above me, Reid went rigid as his movement became erratic, jerking harder and deeper than before. He groaned, his head falling between his shoulders, his mouth landing at my neck, nibbling as he continued grinding into me as his release slowed.
We both lay there, panting. Sweating. Satiated.
After our orgasms, I became suddenly very aware of my nudity. My chest heaved with each labored breath, and beside me, I heard his panting as well. My mind was racing, barely able to process what the fuck we had just done.
Professor Bradley and I had fucked.
Professor Bradley was naked. In my bed. Beside me.
My body flushed hot and I reached for my blanket, tugging at the corner to cover myself as Reid’s hand clamped down over mine. “Don’t you dare,” he whispered, a hint of a smile edging the corners of his mouth. “If we only get one night, I’m not wasting any second of it with you covered.”
He rolled over on top of me again, pinning me both with his body…and with his gaze.
My head fell back against my pillow as I stared into his eyes. With that simple gaze, we plowed past every obstacle that might have been in our way. I could feel it. In me…in him. He was just as thrown off by this, by us, as I was. We weren’t teacher and student right now. We were man and woman. I truly wasn’t sure I would ever forget this moment. Nor did I want to. I wanted to bask in this feeling, in this warm glow of comfort and adoration and pretend that it was okay and that I could have this forever if I wanted.
Because I did want that. I wasn’t so naive to claim that I loved him. Not after one night together. But what I was feeling extended beyond lust. He was the kind of man that I could lose myself in, for better or worse. The kind of man I would weep over. The kind of man who could wreck me or heal me, depending on his actions.
I swallowed and his gaze slanted to my throat, following the movement. “What are you thinking?” he asked, pausing to dip his mouth to kiss the center of my throat.
Just say it, I thought. Tell him what you’re thinking. Because the truth of the matter was that he had buried himself so far under my skin, I didn’t know that I could ever dig him out of my system. I desperately wanted more than just this one night.
He blinked, tilting his head to examine my face. Shit, I was taking too long to answer. I opened my mouth, readying the words. But somewhere along the way, I chickened out.
“I’m thinking that now every time I touch myself, I’ll be thinking of you.” Sex. I always used sex as my cop out. I used it to avoid talking about my feelings. My desires. Hell, I even used it in my fucking career as a cop-out, becoming a burlesque dancer instead of pursuing musical theater. Because I knew it was a distraction. My body was a distraction. Sex was a distraction. “Will that drive you wild?” I asked, sliding my body out from under his to sit up. He countered my movement, sitting back on his haunches and staring at me, his eyes darkening. “Knowing that here…in this bed…” I slowly spread my legs wide, offering him a view of my sex. “Every night…” I drifted my hand down my torso until I was circling my fingers over my swollen, needy clit. “I will be touching myself thinking of you?”
He groaned, his face shifting to something primal and dark. “Show me,” he demanded, reaching beyond me and grabbing another condom from my nightstand drawer. After sheathing himself again, he fisted his now erect cock once more as his eyes steeled onto my fingers tracing circles around my clit.
He stroked himself from root to tip, gripping himself so firmly that his knuckles had blanched. I didn’t miss the way his jaw tightened or the flare of color that flushed across his face as he watched me touch myself. My hips churned as arousal flooded my body and mind, pushing away my unwanted thoughts from earlier.
I was getting close. Sweat was working its way out of my pores. My breasts jiggled as I sped my movements, thrusting my hips in little pulses. “Please,” I begged him. “I need you inside of me.” I wanted to milk his dick of every last drop and feel his thick length spurting hot seed from deep within me.
“Not yet,” he grunted, stroking himself harder, faster, his head red and plump and begging for my mouth or cunt. I’d be happy with either. “Tell me when you’re going to come,” he added. “And open your eyes when you do.”
I cried out, not wanting to come with this hollowness inside of me, but unable to deny him what he wanted. I wanted to do what he said. It turned me on even more. I writhed on the bed, thrashing from side to side as my orgasm drew closer, clawing up my spine and into my gut. “N-now,” I managed to say and forced my eyes to meet his through my web of thick, black lashes.
He thrust inside of me against the convulsing, spasming orgasm contracting inside of me. The thick intrusion sent my orgasm into overdrive. I cried out, my voice shrill, but I maintained eye contact. Locked in his eyes as he shuddered from within me, groaning as he came a second time.
Even as he lowered to kiss me, our eyes stayed open. On each other. Like we were each too afraid to blink for fear that this might not be real. That it might be over.
I felt his stare like static dancing down my flesh. Like electricity surging down my spine. His taste. His moans. His hard, thick muscles. His mouth parted and he looked stunned, like someone had s
ucker-punched him.
Hell, so much for sex being a distraction. If anything, sex only shone a spotlight on what we both clearly wanted and couldn’t have. Suppressed urges that would only be heightened now that we’d had a taste.
10
Reid
The next morning, I woke up in the most delicious state. Naked. With a gloriously nude Hazel spooning in my arms, her smooth, muscled back facing me and my hard cock nestled against her ass.
We’d fucked hard. We’d fucked long. We’d fucked all night. But even though we’d only fallen asleep a couple of hours ago, I felt more rested than I had in years as my phone blared with the alarm at 6:30 am.
I stretched, sliding my finger over the dismiss button as Hazel moaned and stretched beside me, spreading those supple breasts with the movement. “It can’t be time to get up already,” she groaned.
I leaned over her, cupping her jaw, and pulled her in for a deep kiss, ignoring the way my stomach flipped as our lips touched and her tongue parted my mouth.
I sat up and she followed me, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. “Shhh,” I hushed her, guiding her to lie back down. “You have time to go back to sleep before class…or should I say rehearsal.”
“No,” she muttered and I swallowed my laugh. She was clearly not a morning person and it was adorable. “I’ll get up too.”
This time, I didn’t stifle my laugh and chuckled against her mouth as I knelt over her and kissed her once more. “It’s six thirty in the morning and I still need to go uptown to change before class. Go back to sleep, Hazel.”
She blinked, moisture filling her eyes as she tugged the sheet up around her breasts. “If I go back to sleep,” she whispered, “then I’ll wake up alone. And our one night will officially be over.”
The vulnerability in her voice was refreshing and raw. She wouldn’t look at me. Instead, she cast her eyes down at her wringing hands in her lap. “Hey,” I said quietly, tucking my finger below her chin and drawing her gaze back to mine. “It’s only over if we want it to be.”