Page 40 of Pride & Precedents

While he's exacting and domineering at work, he's a surprisingly accommodating teacher. He patiently explains legal concepts that have been tripping me up for years, breaking things down in a way professors often fail to do in a virtual class. Because he's a closet dork, he still has his study materials from his days at Yale, and promised to bring them the next time we meet up. He even offers to put together some practice questions he says will help get me thinking like a lawyer, not just a law student.

Still, concentration has been a challenge. First, he took off his jacket, leaning back to get comfortable on my tiny IKEA couch. Then he loosened his tie and unbuttoned his collar when we got to the multiple-choice questions. When the Chinese food delivery arrived, his tie was gone and his shirtsleeves were rolledup, revealing forearms corded with muscle. When he had to repeat an essay prompt a third time, he looked at me with a smirk, and I realized he'd been doing it all on purpose.

"You're not playing fair, Henry," I pout, reaching for the last crab rangoon.

He chuckles and takes a big drink of his bottled water. I shamelessly gulp down my sugary soda.

"Fair? Was it fair to send me all those notes about my ass and working overtime?"

I playfully punch his arm, annoyed he's right. I can hardly to stay mad with someone who sets my panties on fire with just the sound of his voice.

"Maybe I should say I'm sorry," I say, scooting closer to him on the couch, "but I'm not. You were such a tease the other night, and I wanted—" I gather my books and place them on the coffee table. "No, Ineededto make you pay for leaving me hanging like that."

"Leavingyouhanging?" He lifts an eyebrow, the smirk still in place. "I'm pretty sure I'm the one who left that night unfulfilled."

I kneel on the floor and revel in the eagerness on his face when he sees me settle between his thighs.

"I may have cum, but I was far from fulfilled. That was just foreplay."

I run my nails down his legs before reaching for his belt. His breath catches and he bites his lip. I love a man who knows when to shut the fuck up.

The fine leather slides easily through the loops of his pants, and I reach for his fly next, the sound of the metal teeth the only noise in the apartment. His cock pushes against the fabric of his boxer briefs, impatient for my attention, but Henry stays silent.

"No objections, counselor? I know how much you like to take your time."

He swallows audibly, and I can't help but smile at my power over him.

"No objections," he croaks.

With the green light, I reach one hand into his slacks, squeezing his length through his underwear. He sucks in a breath when I lazily stroke it, feeling it harden further.

More than ready to get my hands on the thick rod between his legs, I lift the material and his cock springs free, the force so strong that it almost slaps his stomach.

"Impressive," I murmur, leaning closer to smell the musk of his arousal.

His pupils are blown wide as he watches me intently. He's clearly as pent up as I am, and I'm happy to provide some relief.

I lean closer still, rubbing my cheek against the velvet skin of his manhood. I give the tip a small peck, enjoying the salty pearl of precum that coats my lips, and open my mouth to engulf his head in a full, wet kiss.

"Goddamn, Mila," he hisses, his hands clutching the fabric of my couch.Pretty good, but I can tell he's still holding back.

I take more of his cock into my mouth, swirling my tongue around to feel all the ridges of his girth. God, this is going to feel amazing when it's inside me.

His breath is coming in pants, but a loud moan escapes when I use one hand to caress and squeeze the flesh of his sac. He curses violently and pushes himself further into my mouth, knocking against my tonsils.That's more like it.

I continue to massage his balls with one hand, stroking the portion of his dick I can't fit into my mouth with the other. He starts bucking uncontrollably, muttering filthy half sentences that make me grow wetter, burn hotter.

"Fuck yes."

"Oh my…ah!"

"Wait, ugh, mmm."

Am I going to cum just from sucking Henry's cock?That would be a first, but it feels possible, given the desperate clenching of my pussy.

"Holy fuck!" he shouts, as his warm cum fills my mouth. I continue to stroke and suck his dick, coaxing the evidence of his pleasure up from his balls and down his shaft to get every. Last. Drop. I didn't fall over the edge with him, but I'm out of breath, and my thighs are wet with my own excitement. Henry, likewise, is panting, trying—and failing—to keep his cool.

"Camila, that was…" he gestures, searching for words before dropping his hand with a slap on his thigh, completely dumfounded. I preen at the implied compliment.

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