“I was never really your teacher,” I mutter.
“Well, you didn’t know that.”
Smith’s mouth coasts from my upper back to the base of my spine, where he lingers, letting his tongue travel over my highly sensitized flesh. I desperately want to squirm and he must be able to tell—he moves his hands from clasping mine to pressing my hips into the mattress.
“Remember the rules,” he scolds, nipping lightly at the small of my back. “Good things come to those who listen.”
Under ordinary circumstances, that kind of direction would get my back up. Here and now? It’s never been hotter.
Smith lets his hands move from my hips to the underside of my ass, cupping the globes as though testing their weight. Moving his hands inward, he spreads me open slightly, then clucks his tongue.
“So wet already. You are so responsive. I’m afraid if I touch you here, it’ll all be over too soon.”
“No it won’t.” I hope my voice doesn’t sound as desperate to him as it does to me. It must, though, because I can almost hear his smirk when he speaks.
“Remember what I said about holding still, baby.”
His thumbs move to spread me wider, then slide up—into my dripping-wet slit that is almost embarrassingly ready for him.
“Fuck, Hyacinth.”
Smith moves one hand to slide a single finger inside of me. I arch my back, unable to stop myself. The pleasure is completely intense—it’s as though he’s never touched me before.
“You like that, baby? You like me finger fucking your pussy?”
I make a sort of choked noise, but I’m nodding at the same time. Smith talking dirty is just about as hot as it gets.
“Tell me what you want.”
I can barely form the words. In fact, my pleasure-saturated voice hardly sounds like my own when I rasp out, “Fuck me. Please, fuck me.”
“Why?”
Smith’s question bounces around in my brain as he picks up the pace, adding a second finger and driving me closer and closer to the edge.
“Because I need it.”
“What do you need?”
I swallow. My mouth is dry and I can barely manage to respond.
“I need you.”
Suddenly, his fingers are gone and the immediate loss is overwhelming. I start to turn around, to question Smith, when I feel his hand pressing into the center of my back.
“Be a good girl, Hyacinth,” he murmurs, leaning down so his lips hover just above my ear. “And I might give you a gold star.”
And with that, he slides into me from behind. His entry is slow, but methodical. As he pulls back, I can feel my wet channel gripping him, protesting his retreat. Then, Smith grips my ankles and slides my legs forward. My knees bend and my ass is effectively up in the air. I almost protest—I can only imagine how I look in this position—when he enters me again.
“God, you’re tight.”
Smith pulls back slightly, then slams forward. Involuntarily, my back arches and I keen out a sound I’ve never heard from my own mouth.
“Yes,” I manage to gasp out as he sets a persistent, pounding rhythm.
“You like that, baby?”
I can only nod as he withdraws and surges into me again and again. I grip the sheets with both hands and curl my toes under, reveling in the sound of our bodies slapping against each other and the feeling of damp skin against skin. The friction outside—the friction inside—all of it is delicious and so very necessary. I need Smith this way, right now, more than I need my next breath.
Smith grips my hips with both hands and, on his next retreat, flips me over onto my back. I gaze up at him and take in his glorious, muscular frame. His hair is disheveled and his eyes are almost smoky with lust. I bite down hard on my bottom lip, and those eyes seem to grow even darker.
“You know what that does to me, Miss Hendricks,” he practically growls. “I might have to give you detention.”
With that, he slides into me, hooking both arms around my knees and spreading my legs wide. I’m completely on display for him, and I’d feel self-conscious if it weren’t so fucking hot. I feel my eyes start to close as the pleasure coils and condenses low in my belly.
“Touch yourself.”
My eyes fly back open and find Smith’s.
“What?” I almost stutter the word and he gives me a wicked grin.
“Touch yourself. Put your hands on those gorgeous tits or that hot pussy and let me watch you do it.”
I open my mouth to protest, then close it. The truth is that I want to please him. The truth is that I don’t know if I’ve ever wanted anything more.
Slowly, I slide my hands down over my breasts, cupping each one in my palms before letting my fingers stroke my nipples. They pebble even harder at my touch, and I lick my lips, the intensity of my desire flaring hotter and hotter with every second.
“God, you’re so fucking sexy.”
Smith leans forward and licks between my fingers where my nipple rests, and I throw my head back with a groan. His teeth lightly scrape the sensitized flesh before capturing it in his mouth and sucking hard, pressing it against the roof of his mouth until I’m practically keening. And, all the while, he continues to move in and out of me with a pace that would be maddening if it weren’t so damn good.
“I can’t wait until I feel you come. The way you get all slick and tight around me . . .”
Smith buries his face in my neck and quickens his thrusts. I reach around and grab onto his shoulders, doing my best to meet him as he surges again and again. I don’t know if it’s the increase in speed or just my body responding to his words, but I can feel my orgasm, just brewing before, beginning to froth and crest.
“Yes . . .”
I moan out the word, and Smith bites down lightly on the space where my neck and shoulder meet. And that’s all it takes. My climax seizes me like some kind of otherworldly experience, forcing my body into a state of what can only be compared to weightlessness. Everything feels suspended in that one moment of pure, unadulterated bliss. It’s all the more sweet, more powerful as I feel Smith shudder against me, finishing deep within me as my body just begins to land back on earth.
For a long moment, the only sound is the breathing between us, harmonious in its own way—despite the fact that we both sound like we’ve run a marathon. After a few more second, Smith props himself up and grins down at me.
“Good?”
I sort of smirk at him. “Uh, yeah. You could say that.”
He rolls over onto his side and pulls me into the crook of his arm. We both look up at the ceiling, and I revel in how warm and comforting his skin feels against mine. Slowly, I close my eyes. I can’t remember the last time I felt this content. This complete.
“Hyacinth?”
“Hmm?”
“Can I tell you something?”
I yawn, then nod, still not opening my eyes. “Sure.”
Smith is still for a moment, then he starts stroking my hair with one hand.
“I think I’m falling in love with you.”
I pull back to look up at him. “You are?”
He nods at first, then frowns.
“Actually—no. I’m sorry. That’s a lie.”
I bolt upright.
“Are you kidding me? Who in the fucking hell tells a girl something like that, then takes it back?”
He grins and tugs on my arm.
“Come back here—let me finish.”
I narrow my eyes. “No.”
“Come on, Cyn.” He runs a hand up and down my arm. When I don’t budge, he sighs.
“What I was going to say is I’m not falling in love with you—I’m already there. The falling has already occurred.”
I blink at him, then slowly lower myself until our eyes are almost mirror images.
“You love me?” I ask. He nods.
“Yeah. I do.”
I smile. “Even when I drink too much and fall on my face?”
“Even then.”
“Even when I get stressed and act like a lunatic?”