Page 94 of Liars and Liaisons

“…if you want to return, Dean Hudson has a few conditions,” the tall man says from where he’s perched at the end of his desk. His long, veiny arms are crossed tight over his chest, clad in a black vest with a purple tie. “Namely the parties. She wants them to stop. Says it makes the university look bad.”

Grayson scoffs, crossing his legs. I feel his arm sling over the back of my chair, inching me closer. “Not surprising. She’s never appreciated a good time.”

“If that’s what you want to call your gatherings,” the other man says, amusement dancing in his reddish eyes. “She’s also demanding full alibis for you and your staff on certain nights. To corroborate your professed lack of involvement in any of the missing persons cases that have come up since you’ve been on sabbatical.”

His fingers tighten on the leather beside my shoulder. I glance at him from the corner of my eye, my chest suddenly tight.

“I can do that.”

The man nods, and I glance around his office. Raven-themed knickknacks and headless sculptures decorate the room between thick, dusty books and dozens of papers stacked in piles of varying height around the room.

On the corner of his desk sits a nameplate:Dr. Ian Crane, Professor of Religious Studies and Comparative Mythology.

Yeah. I sit back in my chair, goose bumps rising on my skin when Grayson’s fingers toy with my hair.He looks like he’d teach mythology and religion.Really, with the eyes, the unnatural hair, and the almost-painful good looks, he looks more like the Devil himself than anything else.

“All right,” he says, his pale skin becoming almost luminescent as he moves back beneath the fluorescent lights. “Then, I suppose I’ll see you in the spring with a full arsenal of brand-new course material and ways to teach it.”

Grayson nods. “Yes. Sabbatical has been very enlightening.”

By the time we get back to the SUV, I’ve all but forgotten about my little conversation with Janus. It’s hard to remember anything at all when Grayson’s got me stretched out in the backseat with his mouth between my tits, sucking and pinching them with a fervency that steals my breath away.

I swallow, my lips unable to close as he latches on to one hardened nipple, rolling it between his teeth.

“These have driven me absolutely insane since the moment I laid eyes on you,” he pants, curling his tongue around the peak, kneading their weight in both hands. “I’ve wondered what you’d look like with my cock between them, if you’d blush, waiting for my cum.”

My hips lift, seeking friction in the little miniskirt I have on. I’m throbbing, aching to be filled, and he knows it. That’s why he’s ignoring it.

“Why don’t you try it and see?”

He pauses, pulling off my nipple with a wet pop. I feel the suction in my toes.

“What, here?”

The vehicle begins moving, and I look up to see trees beyond the stone walls, blurring as we drive past. My gaze is hooded, falling to him, and I run a hand through his messy brown locks, gripping tight at the base.

“Do you want to see me blush or not?”

Grinning, he sits back, guiding my other hand to his belt. “Get me out then. I’m gonna make you beg me to soak you.”

Releasing his hair, my fingers tremble as I undo his pants, and then he’s shifting, shoving them down his hips and fisting himself. One tug, then two, and he’s already long and hard, an angry reddish-pink color I want to taste on my tongue.

My chest heaves with each excited breath.

“Hold them together for me,” he commands in that tone that leaves no room for argument. Not that I would anyway. “Open your mouth, dirty girl. Let’s see if you can fit me there first.”

I grip my tits in my palms, my fingernails biting into my skin. Anticipation courses through my bloodstream, and my neck cramps from being shoved awkwardly against the SUV’s door, but all I can focus on is his cock. He moves above me, pressing the thick crown to my lips, seeking permission to enter.

With a silent gulp, I open. Accepting what he feeds me.

The slightly salty tang of his essence explodes on my tongue as soon as he’s in, and I let out a little noise of pleasure at the taste. He slides in, filling me until my jaw aches, and then retreats. I exhale sharply, some of the saliva in my mouth spilling out and running down my chin.

He blinks down at me with those heated emerald eyes and uses a thumb to smear my drool over the head of his dick. “Open.”

I obey, wider this time, and he slides in slowly, filling and filling until he meets resistance. “Breathe and open. Take me deep. I know you can fucking do it.”

The rough encouragement sets my body aflame, and I angle my head slightly, widening my jaw even more. My lips feel raw as his tip hits the back of my throat, and I gag, unaccustomed to having anything there.

“Fuck,” he groans, his hand coming up to thread through my hair, keeping me in place. Not that I can move either way. “Your throat is magnificent, Violet. Almost as tight and wet as that pretty pussy.”

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