Page 69 of His to Teach
I love that he feels it too, this madness that always overtakes me when we’re together. “Yes,” I tell him. “I’m so close. Harder, please, Nate. I need it harder.”
One hand makes its way into my hair, pulling up until my back is arched against his chest, his other hand moving to my breast. He pulls my hair, hard. “Like that?”
“Just like that,” I moan, my muscles starting to clench. So close. I’m so close. He’s pulling my hair and pounding into my pussy and gripping my breast and it’s all so good and so, so right, this combination of pain and pleasure and him. Then he takes a hardened nipple between his fingers and pinches, hard, and it finally all becomes too much. With a sharp cry, I come all over his cock.
As the orgasm explodes out from my center into my limbs, white light pulsing around the edge of my vision, I feel him tense behind me, hear him moaning incomprehensible, filthy words in my ear, feel his body shudder. He’s coming with me and that makes it all so much more intense. So much more perfect.
“Fuck,” he finally whispers, going limp against my back. “That was unreal.”
“It always is,” I whisper. Because it’s true. Because he can do things to my body that I didn’t even realize I was capable of.
He pulls away from me, still panting, and my back feels suddenly cold. Reality is seeping back in and I don’t want it. I want to stay right here in this warm and liquid dream space forever.
“How loud do you think we were?”
Nate chuckles at the question and pats the cement wall. “I think we’re okay.” He pauses. “Ihopewe’re okay.”
I push the unease from my mind and smile at him over my shoulder. “Totally worth it.”
He laughs again and rubs my shoulders. “I think you definitely earned an A, Miss Cain. Well done.”
I grab his hand, turning to face him. The laughter goes out of his face as he looks at me, as he sees the intensity of my expression. “Thank you,” I whisper. “That was…that was just what I needed.”
He brushes his fingertips gently over my cheek and I shudder a little. How can his touch still affect me so deeply, even after that? You’d think I’d get my fill eventually.
“You want to talk about it?” he asks, voice soft. “Whatever was bothering you?”
I shake my head. “It’s nothing. I’m just glad you were here to make me feel better.”
He grins, his smile so beautiful it makes my heart ache. “And I’m glad I get to be the one you come to when you need cheering up.”
I snort. “Because it means orgasms for you?”
He pulls me into his arms, rubbing my back, and I sigh, relaxing against him. “No, Harper,” he whispers into my ear, his voice making me feel melty all over again. “Because I want it to be my job to take care of you.”
NATE
Something is wrong. I knew it the second she walked over to me, the moment she started playing her little game. There was desire in her eyes, yes, but there was something else there, too. She was pleading with me, begging me to make her forget whatever it was that had her looking so desperately sad.
And then in that closet, she had almost started crying. I felt helpless watching her as she tried to pull it together. But then I realized that I wasn’t helpless—I was going to give her exactly what she wanted right then. A distraction, from whatever it was. An escape.
I didn’t think for a second about how dangerous it was. Didn’t even give a shit. My job, her place in the program, our reputations—none of it mattered. I knew exactly what she desired from me and that was the only thing I could bring myself to care about. Giving her what she needed.
Sex with her in that storage closet was the culmination of a thousand fantasies. All those hours I’ve spent on this campus dreaming about her, wanting her. And somehow, she was better than every single fantasy. She was so open with me, so uninhibited. It drove me out of my fucking mind. Even aftershe made me come twice, I still wanted more of her. Was still thinking of what I wanted to do to her when I got her home.
Because there’s no way in hell I’m letting her go home alone, not tonight. Maybe we’ll even make a mid-week stop at the club.
My mind is spinning through the possibilities when I leave her in the closet with a final kiss and instructions to follow me out in five minutes. I grab a stack of electronic test sheets from the shelf before leaving, just in case anyone sees me coming out of the storage closet.
Thank fuck for that. Because walking by the moment I close the door behind me is William Travers. The head of the sociology department. Harper’s advisor.
“Dr. Chase,” he says warmly, apparently missing the way I’m completely shitting myself at the sight of him. “Nice to see you.”
Keep it together,my panicked brain directs me.Control.
I somehow manage to smile at him. “You as well. What brings you out of your ivory tower?”
He laughs. Travers is known for holing up in his office, rarely leaving the humanities building, insisting that his classes all be held there—though sociology is under a completely different college than the humanities. I suspect he just likes that building because it’s one of the oldest on Denby’s campus, brick and turreted and covered in ivy. He’s one of the few professors on campus with the seniority to make demands like that.
