“Yes. Please,” I begged.
He slapped my ass, the sting pulling a sharp moan from me. “Good.”
And with that, he shoved inside me, stealing any more words I could form. He wasn’t nice. He wasn’t gentle and slow in discovery like other guys. He also wasn’t quick, racing to his own orgasm without any concern for mine.
No. He alternated between quick, shallow thrusts and hard, bruising fucking. He’d hold my shoulders and push in as far and hard as he could go, pulling a wordless cry from my lips. When sweat slicked both our skins, he dug his hand in my hair and yanked me upright.
“Look,” he ordered against my cheek.
I opened my eyes and looked at the mirror, finding my pale breasts bouncing in the moonlight. His tan skin wrapped around mine as he buried his hand between my thighs. His dark hair mashed against the wild mess of my red mane. We were flushed with the same desperate look.
“Fucking beautiful. With your tight little pussy milking my cock. Fuck, I’m gonna come.”
“Yes. Yes.”
“You first.” He took two fingers and slapped my clit at the same time as pushing deep, and I came. I held on to his hips and fell apart, lost in the vision of us together.
His groan penetrated my haze, and I squeezed my core tighter, focusing on prolonging the orgasm for both of us.
His hand finally relaxed in my hair, and we fell over, where he quickly rolled his heavy weight off and slipped out.
“Jesus fucking Christ.”
“Yeah,” I agreed, gasping for air. “I’m gonna need a repeat performance as promised.”
“Noted,” he huffed. “Just give me a minute.”
“Just a little while,” I promised.
Ten
Willem
I made it to the classroom just in time. After showing up twenty minutes later than I planned, I also forgot my connecter cable for my laptop and had to run back to my office. The first day of classes was not the day to be distracted, and yet, there I was. My mind more focused on the most amazing sex I’d had over the last couple of nights rather than my job.
Hell, standing there in front of the room, pulling up the list of names in my class, my mind was still more focused on the image of Arabella bouncing on my cock this morning. On top of all that, I was on my third cup of coffee.
Because I was up all night and into the next day fucking Arabella—my niece, my stepbrother’s daughter, a teenager fourteen years younger than me.
No matter how many ways I put it, I couldn’t deny that I’d fucked up royally. But I also couldn’t stop. I didn’t want to. I’d even tried. Last night, I’d cornered her in the kitchen after dinner, and then again on the couch, trying to get her out of my system in an attempt to get a good night’s sleep. It’d been a joke because before dawn, I’d still woken up in her bed after coming to her in the middle of the night for more.
More, more, more.
But it wasn’t just her body I kept going back for. It was the moments between, when she curled in my arms, and we discussed the pros and cons of ways to travel. It was the conversations and debates and jokes and laughter that had got us there in the first place. It’d never been just about sex with her.
The sex had been a culmination of it all. She’d dug her way into my mind long before I craved her body. And the explosion of the last couple days made it impossible to ignore the way my heart thudded a little harder at just the thought of being with her. Before it’d been the hugs—the connection. It’d been the excitement of spending the evening with someone who got you—who saw you for you. I’d put it down to too many years alone.
But when I’d pushed open her door just after we’d said goodnight, the feeling returned, and it hadn’t left until I did.
So, I stayed as long as I could, laughing with her long after I came, shoving past the truth that the weekend held more than just sex.
It left me tired and satisfied. But also distracted.
That’s the only reason I could come up with how I completely missed her sitting in the first row of my class. Not even noticing until I stumbled over her name.
“Here,” she answered.
My head snapped up. A white band T-shirt, black shorts that showed off her creamy thighs that I knew exactly how it felt to be between, and that sassy smirk.
After a hesitation that stretched on alarmingly long in my mind, I jerked back to attention, moving on to the next name.
What the hell was she doing in my class? She wanted to be a teacher. Had we talked about this? Had she mentioned it and I missed it?