Private Practice (Private Pleasures 1) - Page 26

He nuzzled her ear. “I almost forget the blood, sweat, and tears this place cost me when you look at it like that.”

“I love big, old homes. I think owning one must be like becoming part of a family. Can I look around?” Her voice caught on the question when he backed her up against the door. Her handbag hit the polished oak floor with a soft thud.

“I’ll give you the tour later, if you’re a good girl.” His hands skimmed up her abdomen until his fingertips encountered the underwire of her bra. He shifted the cups just enough to make her shiver, despite the heat.

“A good girl?” she managed as his hands ran over her, lighting fires everywhere they touched. “Longfoot, you’re letting the whole teacher/student thing go to your head.”

“It’s gone somewhere, but I don’t think you’re going to complain.” His hands sneaked under her skirt and into the back of her panties. He hauled her up against him, and she quickly realized the only complaint she had was that she couldn’t get close enough. Animal instinct kicked in and she climbed up his big, solid frame. Arms locked around his neck, legs wrapped around his waist, she rocked against him, not caring that her skirt was bunched up at her hips.

Seconds later, he had her blouse unbuttoned and her bra shoved aside. She held her breath as he cupped her breast and growled appreciatively. She knew she didn’t have a whole lot to appreciate, and generally preferred if guys left her breasts out of the proceedings, but Tyler didn’t squeeze and knead them like bread dough. No, he smoothed and caressed and lavished attention on her understated curves until her nipples tightened to sensitive peaks. The scrape of his rough palms made her thighs clench. When he caught the hard beads between his long fingers and pinched lightly, she felt the tug all the way to her core.

Oh God, if she didn’t do something fast, he was going to take her completely off her plan again. With strength born of desperation, she wriggled out of his hold and slapped her palm against the center of his chest. “Not so fast, Tyler. We’re covering chapter 3, remember?”

“Fine by me.” Keeping his eyes locked on hers, he dropped to his knees in front of her.

“What are you—?”

“Better hold on.” He curved his hand under her hip, supporting her, and shrugged her thigh over his shoulder. The move forced her off-balance. She scrambled for a handhold along the rock-hard muscle of his other shoulder.

“This isn’t chapter 3,” she protested as he brushed his lips over her thigh.

“Sure it is.” Lightly, he bit the other, and then followed up with a kiss.

Then he kissed in between. Her neck muscles dissolved and her head hit the door with a clunk.

His tongue traced the edge of her panties and delved beneath. She switched her grip from his shoulder to the top of his head, not sure if she meant to stop him or give him encouragement. He took it as encouragement, and sent his incredibly talented tongue on another pass.

“Tyler…” Was that whimper really her? “Y-you’ve got things backward.”

Through half-closed eyes she saw him smile. His grip on her backside tightened. “Backward, my ass. Sparky, prepare yourself for a lesson you’ll never forget.”


Tyler heard his bossy student whisper, “Wait,” when he moved in for the kill, but he ignored her. No more waiting. He went in—fast and furious and more than a little out of control. Her fingers plunged into his hair and twisted so hard he figured he’d have a bald patch by the time she finished, and he really didn’t give a shit. The way she rocked her hips and pushed herself against his tongue tipped him off that she didn’t either. Hell, she was off to the races. He leaned in, using his weight to trap her hips tighter between him and the door, and did his damnedest to keep the pace so urgent she wouldn’t have time to think.

He quickly discovered that, for Sparky, not being able to think didn’t mean not being able to talk, because her breathless monologue reached his ears.

“Oh…God. That feels amazing, but I can’t—

“You can. Thirty seconds, tops.” To prove his point, he flicked his tongue dangerously close to the bull’s-eye.

She jerked and let out a tortured little moan, but still had the gall to argue with him. “I never can, not even during a reverse chapter 3. Don’t take it personal…”

Determined to render her speechless, not to mention just plain wrong, he adjusted his grip on her hips, closed his mouth around her slick, swollen clit, and sucked until her entire body trembled.

“Ohmigod! Oh…my…God. I think I’m going to—

Hell, yeah, you are. But before he could send her over, Beethoven’s Fifth chimed from somewhere by her feet. What the…? A reluctant glance down confirmed what he already suspected. The symphony came from her handbag. He looked up at her, silently questioning.

She was a sight to behold. Eyes closed, lips parted, looking sweaty, flushed, and incredibly beautiful.

The symphony chimed again. She let out a long, slow, shaky breath, muttering something about being cursed to a life of solo orgasms. Then those big, dazed eyes opened and landed on him, brimming with disappointment. “That’s probably my service.”

“I was afraid you were going to say something like that.” Doing his best to pretend the sinking sensation in his chest stemmed from his heart pumping blood, double-time, to his highly frustrated dick, he scooped her bag off the floor and handed it to her, then slowly eased to his feet.

“No, no. Don’t get up! You never know—this could be a quick question about a prescription.”

“I’m not going anywhere, Doc.”

Tags: Samanthe Beck Private Pleasures Erotic
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