Her Filthy Professors - Page 2

Chapter One

Jemma

I’m trapped. Pinned to a wall with no way out. No escape.

Jesus help me, what have I done?

A whimper catches on my lips and it takes everything I have not to scream. Not to release all the emotions burning through my body like rocket fuel sizzling every cell of my body from the inside out.

I cry louder, breath heavier, my heart racing faster than it ever has before. I don’t know how to handle all the rioting inside me. So I stop trying.

Not that anyone can hear us three floors up while a college party rages on downstairs. I'd be lying if I said the idea of someone busting in on us didn't make me cream a little more.

Pleasure sends my eyes rolling closed as my entire world spins on its axis, totally and utterly out of control.

That’s what they are doing to me. Making me lose all my good sense. They make me feel more than I have in the last five years combined and that scares as much as it excites me.

My three masked mystery men.

Gorgeous, made of granite and beyond aroused. Knowing they are this hard for me sends a wave of heat to pool between my legs.

No names, no pressure, no expectations beyond these stolen moments we have before the clock strikes midnight on New Year’s Eve.

Dark Eyes, the one with an easygoing smile and mountains of muscles to my right, leans in and scrapes his teeth across my neck, causing my scream to finally break free. Chuckling, he retraces the path with his wicked tongue and I shudder, gasping and so desperately ready for the promise of more I see in the depth of his eyes. I don’t want this to end, for us to be discovered. To break our little fantasy bubble. And it seems neither do they because a hot mouth claims mine, swallowing all my cries of pleasure.

“Are you protected?”

I know what he is asking and briskly nod. “The pill.”

“Show me. I want to see what I’m about to claim,” Whiskey Eyes, the beast of a man between my legs fisting his massive cock, hisses. He strokes himself and God, he’s huge. So fucking thick I’m dying to find out what he will feel like when he finally opens me wide and pushes every last inch of his gorgeous cock inside me.

My whole body trembles, melts with anticipation, sending my heart into a fluttering race.

All three hover so close our heavy breathing mingles along with our body heat. Between us a roaring heat blazes and when our gazes collide, I find the raw need inside me mirrored back.

To my left, the one I consider the broody one with the dark purple mask and sexy scruff, kisses me and before I have the good sense to push my way out of here, to run, to save myself from bad decisions I kiss him back.

It hadn’t taken much to catch their attention and tease them into following me up two flights of stairs and stealing away in a half-lit room. My friend is to blame for my sudden burst of sensuality and I’m rolling with it. For now.

Thick, dark locks of hair glide through my fingers as I pull him impossibly close. The man is already invading my space enough to where I feel his heart rate matching mine beat for beat. The bulge in his pants throbbing against my hip.

God help me he tasted savage. Like unfiltered lust. He’s gentle at first but the second his tongue dances over mine, he takes it deeper. Harder. There’s no denying something sparks between us in that second. I don’t have a lick of experience to compare the zing of adrenaline that single kiss shoots through me, but I know no one kisses like that and simply forgets. Do they? I hope not. That’s why I’m here after all. To usher in the new year with something so wild, so unbridled I’ll always be able to say… I did that for me. This one time. My best friend was right. I’ve held myself back long enough.

When he pulls away I look on as he edges up the hem of my skirt for his friend, revealing the black silk of my panties to all three.

And suddenly it hits me. This is happening. I’m really doing this.

I’m about to give myself to three men in the spare room of a college friend while everyone parties it out downstairs.

Briefly I wonder if I should have gone with a lacy pair of panties, but I don’t have to carry that thought for long. These three seem to not care about silk versus lace anyway.

Not in the least. All they want is me bare to them.

Whiskey Eyes peels away the soaked cloth and the second they see just how ready I am for what they have planned, all three growl hungrily.

Buttons pop and shirts fall. All the rest coming off is a blur. They are no better than wolves who’ve caught their prey.

Me.

Tags: Penelope Wylde Erotic
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