Page 51 of The Biker and the Professor
He slides my panties aside and pets me. “Begme.”
“Please,” I mewl. “Please. Do it.”
With his free hand, he reaches to his side for something. High on his fingering game, I follow his hand to see what he’s doing. He unsheathes his blade from the leather knife sachet he keeps strapped to his belt.
“Hold up your dress,” he orders.
I do, then wince when he presses the cool blade against my skin, slides it under my panties, and in one smooth move, slice the material in two. He repeats this on the other side, and I watch my arousal-soaked sheer panties fall to the carpeted floor.
Setting the knife on the table, he grabs my hips, yanks me closer to him, and in the next second, his face is buried in my hot, slick, heat.
Consumed with pleasure, I throw my head back and wail. It’s as if I've been starved to the point of inanition, and finally, I’m being replenished.
Driven mad by his relentless tongue, I rotate my hips, going wild on his face.
“Ohfrickindamn, I’m gonna come...I’m gonna come...no, stop, no. I’m gonna come…”
My reluctance to let go loses its grip and my body jerks and shudders, eyes rolling back in my head as I’m seized and dunked by my orgasm.
Slowly, he pets me back to earth.
When I finally open my eyes and loopily look down at him, he tilts his head and asks, “You good now? Can I go back to the party?”
I shake my head no.
“What else do you want?” he asks. “You gotta tell me.”
I let go of my dress so it falls back down. “You know what I want.”
“Know you want my cock.” He raises a brow. “But you gotta be more specific. You wanna suck it? Ride it? Take it on all fours?”
Scowling at him, I snap, “You’re being an asshole.”
“I’m not the one using you to get off.”
I spit a filthy epithet at him and start to pull away.
“Yourmouth, Professor,” he growls, gripping my thighs to keep me in place. “You know better than to curse at me.”
With an incredulous smile, I send my eyes heavenward. “Only when I’m with you do I feel like a 17-year-old instead of a grown-ass woman. Ridiculous.”
“You’re indecisive like one, too,” he points out.
I reach down and sweep my thumb across his lips, and he opens up, bites it. “Only with you, Nero.” With that, I lower to my knees in front of him and begin to unbuckle his belt, unbutton, unzip.
Before I can go any further, a banging comes at the door.
Scrambling to my feet, I gaze longingly at my ruined panties on the floor.
Nero stands and puts himself back together before walking over to the door, yanking it open.
Keeping out of sight, I recognize Scratch’s voice as he says,“Cookie told me I’d find you up here.” Then, although he can’t see me, he calls, “Yo, Professor!”
“What do you want?” Nero growls at him.
“Leyana’s searching all over the club for you, man,”Scratch informs him. “Onyx lied and told her you went to the bathroom, and I swear that crazy bitch is standing outside the Men's right now, waiting for you to come out.”
“Don't call her that,” Nero defends her,and I feel my heart pinch with jealousy.He cares about her.
