A Dance for Him (16 page)

Oh my God
, I think,
is he going to go down on me now?

It seems the answer is yes.

I cry out as his tongue slides for the first time over my excited nub, dips down to my soaking nether lips, and then circles back to toy with it, pausing only to tell me how delicious he finds my pussy.

It’s funny, I want so much to run my hands through his thick head of hair as he sends waves of pleasure through me with every lap of his tongue, but I remember what he said about keeping my hands where they were, and submit to his demand.

Because I want to.

Especially when I realise, from the unabashedly lustful way he looks up at me every so often, that he probably wants to see my naked body all stretched out and exposed and writhing as he works his sensual magic on me …

Exposed
.

The very word sends tremors of excitement through me - never have I wanted so completely to be on display for his delectation, to be the object of his gaze.

It’s perhaps this desire that liberates me to abandon myself to pleasure more completely than I ever have …

When he slides a finger inside me while continuing to lick me, I come, in an explosion of sensation that leaves me spent.

But even though my knees are jelly from my orgasm, he’s inexorable.

Almost immediately after my final contraction around his finger, he comes back up to kiss my mouth so that I can taste my own juices, but any time I have to recover is transitory.

“Get on your knees,” he orders, and I obey.

But the position he wants isn’t quite the one I expect. Once I’m on my knees, he grabs my breasts from behind and arches my back towards him so that I’m no longer supporting myself on my elbows, and my wrists dangle in front of me.

“Keep your hands between your legs and rest your cheek on the bed when I let go,” he growls.

He’s a bit more gentle than he lets on - he sets me down in my new position, rather than just dropping me, but any idea that he’s going to go easy on me evaporates when he abruptly yanks my wrists further back towards him from under me, so that my arms are keeping my legs apart and my cheek is pressed against the soft bedlinens rather than just resting on them.

I’m completely open to him - incredibly, obscenely open.

He smiles in satisfaction as he surveys my lewd posture, and I feel his finger trail teasingly between my lips before he spreads them.

This time it’s his thick cock that pushes into me.

Despite the fact that I’ve just come, I’m ready for him again, ready to be penetrated.

Ready to be fucked.

Which is a good thing, because he doesn’t start slow this time, and he’s certainly not gentle, pounding vigorously as he is into me, as though he wanted to plumb the very depths of my core with every stroke, as though I existed solely for the purpose of satisfying his boundless lust.

But it feels incredible, and soon I’m bucking my hips back into him to maximise the impact of every thrust. I feel dirty, slutty, insatiable, aroused to the point of frenzy, wanting nothing more than to surrender to him, to succumb to the pleasure of giving myself up to him.

Because it’s as though he’s no longer Sebastian Morland, my professor, as though I myself am no longer Paige Lytton, his student - it’s like we’re just a man and a woman, driven by some desperate primal need to merge into one …

It doesn’t take long for me to come, but he keeps on fucking me, as though determined to get another orgasm out of me.

Even though I can’t help but think that surely this is impossible, he easily proves me wrong.

When he leans forward, whispers that I’ll be his sex-crazed slave by the time he’s done with me, I’m practically halfway there again.

All it takes is for him to slide a hand between my legs to my delicate nub, and thrust one more time, even deeper and harder before, as though he wanted to bury himself completely in me.

I come for the third time, my vision briefly fading to black as trails of fire radiate from my core to my limbs.

This time I feel his cock pulse inside me as he sends spurt after spurt of hot cum into me …

After he gently releases my wrists from their improvised cuffs, massaging them slightly as he does so, I collapse forward, spent, little moans still escaping me with each aftershock in my core.

He soon follows, embracing me from behind, his touch as soft and reassuring as it was rough and unrelenting before.

“Are you all right, Paige?” he whispers.

“Oh, Dr. Morland - I mean, Sebastian,” I sigh, as I flip myself around so that he’s now lying on top of me, facing me. “That was incredible, I thought I was going to pass out.”

He smiles and kisses me. “I assume that means a repeat performance sometime, I hope in the very near future?”

I look into his gorgeous dark eyes, half in delight, half in disbelief that he’s
already
thinking of an encore. Fuck, he’s hornier than I ever thought possible,
and I love it
.

“Well, maybe not this very minute,” I murmur coyly. “Because I think I might at least need to catch my breath. I feel like I’m just a quivering mass of jelly right now. But, oh my God, if that is what it is to be a submissive - I’d like to try more of that.”

“I must say I rather thought you might,” he says with a roguish smirk.

I swat the back of his shoulder in affectionate reproach.

“Seriously, though,” he continues, “I was wrong to think you couldn’t take it. Because you’re a natural sub, the best I’ve ever had. You’re so open and receptive, it’s wonderful.”

And there it is - despite the fact that I’m now being held very tenderly by the man who’s just given me the most mind-blowing orgasm of my life so far, I can’t help but feel a pang of jealousy at the reference to his past experiences.

But I shove it into the back of my mind. I know it’s not fair to him - obviously, at his age, given his attractiveness, of course he’s had other partners, and I’ve probably just benefited from those experiences. Can I really complain, after all, when he’s just told me that I’ve been the best sub he’s ever had - whether or not he’s telling the truth?

He must have noticed the shift in my mood nevertheless.

“You’re okay, Paige?” he says gently, a concerned expression on his face. “You know, sometimes subs do feel a bit strange afterwards. Sub drop, they call it. I know it wasn’t very heavy, what we were doing, but you’re quite new to this, so I want you to let me know if you do. Will you do that?”

He looks so sweet, so genuinely solicitous, that I can’t help but tell myself I’m definitely being absurd, that I should get over it and stop being so neurotic and clingy.

“Yes, Sebastian, thank you,” I answer, and kiss him.

He beams at me and rolls over onto his back, though he continues to hold me close to him, so that I’m resting my head on his chest.

“You
are
amazing, Paige. I haven’t been this happy in a really long time. I just - I’m a very lucky man, that is all.”

I look up at him. His eyes are shining, he has a huge smile on his face, he looks swooningly handsome. And very, very happy.

“I’m very glad to be here with you,” I murmur.

And I mean every word of it.

PART II

CHAPTER TWENTY

It’s with a sort of start that I wake up the next morning, my head cradled by an infinitely soft pillow, my body covered only by an equally soft top sheet and duvet.

For a moment I think that I surely must be dreaming - the sunlight is streaming in through the windows, and the elegant décor of the room, all done up in cream, looks like something out of a magazine.

It’s almost as though I were waking up in some modern-day version of a fairy-tale castle …

Of course, when I roll over so that I can savor the cool smoothness of the pillowcase against my cheek, the slight dull ache between my legs and the tell-tale stickiness between my thighs make it very clear where I am, and what I’ve been up to with Dr. Morland - I mean, Sebastian (I have to admit I still haven’t entirely gotten used to the idea of addressing him by his first name) …

He’s not here, but it seems he’s left a note for me on his pillow:

“Thanks for a wonderful night. Off to buy some eggs for breakfast. Back soon. Love, Sebastian.”

He’s so sweet I can hardly believe it.

But what else about this is believable?

Little more than a month ago he was just my hot professor, and I was happy just to have the occasional office hour chat with him and fantasise about him.

Now he’s not only fucking me, he’s practically treating me like a girlfriend - he even gave me a toothbrush, which he wanted me to leave in his ensuite bathroom so that I could use it whenever I stay over here.

This was definitely not something I’d ever imagined to be possible, not even in my most fevered fantasies, especially after all those weeks of mixed signals! Not even last week, even if that kiss he gave me before I left did give me much food for thought.

For a moment I wonder what it’s going to be like when we see each other in class on Wednesday, before I groan and bury my face in his pillow in order to get a whiff of his scent.

Because I don’t really want to think of him as my professor, certainly not right now. I mean, I know he is my professor in real life, but I don’t want to think about real life right now, not when I’m still in the midst of this beautiful dream, not when I’ve just had the best night of my life ever.

And yes I do literally mean the best night of my life ever. It was
incredible
, every bit of it - our initial encounter, the lovely dinner he whipped up for the two of us, that three-orgasm BDSM encounter, and the shower we took afterwards which led to more fooling around and a third round of sex before we fell asleep, utterly exhausted, in each other’s arms.

I’ve never felt so relaxed in my life, so happy. I have no idea how long this will last but right now I don’t even want to think about the future. After all, I’m lying here, naked, in Sebastian Morland’s bed, with his manly essence still inside me, sniffing the faint, sexy scent of aftershave on his pillow.

If there was ever a time to live in the present, this is surely it!