Beauty and the Professor (A Modern Fairy Tale Duet 1)

“You actually said that?”

He shrugged. “It’s the truth. What she did was beyond inappropriate, and I needed to nip it in the bud. For my relationship with you but also for myself. I can’t promise she’ll never do anything again, but I have no interest in her. None. And I’m pretty sure I pissed her off enough where she’ll want nothing to do with me.”

She arched a brow. “Setting a precedent, are we?”

He chuckled. “You’re going to throw all my lectures back at me, aren’t you?”

“Most likely. Why, you going to get fed up with me?”

“Never.” Another kiss, softer this time. “Stay with me.” A press of his lips to hers. “Wrapped up so tight I never have to worry that I’ll wake up and you won’t be there.”

As if to obey him, her limbs moved without thought, her arms twining around his neck, her legs hitching around his thighs. Her back arched up from the wall, seeking the hard length and hot pulse of him, trying to connect them everywhere.

“I’ll never leave you,” she whispered.

She felt him through her jeans, felt his cock jump in response to her words. They were connected, the emotions and the sex. They tangled together like their bodies and hearts, not elegant but instead grasping, pleading, begging. Needing.

She shuddered, silently beseeching, but when her tongue found the heavy beat at his neck, she moaned. He tasted like musk and man, like faith and irreverence all at once. His skin here was unmarred, uninjured, and yet still rough. The uneven rasp of a healthy, vibrant man who had worked and fought and weathered the world before finding refuge in her arms.

He reacted to the wet slide of her tongue violently. He bucked against her, slamming her into the wall.

“Wait,” he muttered. “One minute…just.”

She didn’t want to wait. Didn’t want him to bring himself under control, burying the passion somewhere deep and unreachable. She grazed his collarbone with her teeth, an animal instinct to incite and distract him. To draw out the beast inside him—not the wounded skin he thought made him so, but the hard, angry part of him. The part he kept carefully away from her, treating her instead like fragile glass. As if she wouldn’t be able to handle him—or as if she wouldn’t want to. She couldn’t blame him after the way Professor Jenkins had left him at his most vulnerable. He’d learned to hide his pain and frustration. He’d learned to doubt Erin too. But she was stronger than that. She wasn’t delicate nor easily bruised. And she was greedy. Nothing but the whole of him would be good enough.

She slid her hand down the plane of his chest and abs, down to the cloth-covered cock below. It strained against his pants, restricted by clothes and by him. However she wants it, don’t push too far. That was fine at the beginning, but not now. She had something to prove and maybe so did he.

She squeezed gently, luxuriating in the stuttered breaths bellowing from his chest, the low, pained grunt emanating from his throat, and, God, his hands—the way they pushed like beams against the wall on either side of her head, straining with the force of his lust and yet holding steady to allow her to explore. So much strength, so much restraint. He was a lashing storm clasped tightly in a steel box, and she held the key.

With her fingers flying, she unbuckled his belt and took out his cock. It fell heavily into her palm, burning up against her skin. She fell to her knees and tongued him, kissed him with all the force and passion that she had given his mouth just seconds earlier. She had sucked a man before, had even done this to him before, but never quite like this. Like making out with his cock, like making love to him with her mouth. He was smooth and slippery on her tongue, the faint salt barely registering beneath the passion that drove her. And to her delight, he was too caught up in the moment to censor himself. He dropped one hand and clasped her head, thrusting deep in beautiful rhythm. This was no careful role-play like they had done in his office that day, this was unruly and wild, a deluge of sex and sensation.

He pulled away—jerked himself back from her, panting. “God, Erin. God.”

She sank back to the wall, the slab cool against her fevered skin. The air felt thick and sumptuous, hard to breathe but nourishing too.

“How do you want me?” she asked, her voice low.

“I’m too far gone after… I’m on the edge, Erin. Let me step back and then I’ll make this good for you.”

“I don’t want you to

make it good for me. I want you to jump.”

She reached for him, tugging the pants that hung at his thighs, down his legs and off completely, leaving him bared in only a dress shirt hung open. The lines of his body curved so elegantly, all that power contained, the strength sharply forged—exactly like the man within. She stroked down the outside of his calf, the tanned skin and sprinkling of male hair, admiring.

When she looked up, the question was in her eyes—the plea. Please? He groaned, and it sounded so dire, like something had perished, and she hoped it was his self-control.

He pointed to the living room where the hardwood floor softened to plush carpet. “Hands and knees.”

She scrambled to comply, dropping her clothes as she went, shedding out of them like finding a new skin—this one molten and pure. Nothing but sex and sensuality. Only helpless, guileless intimacy here. The carpet felt scratchy on her forearms, a metal scrub brush on ceramic. She turned back, offering herself up to him, letting the embarrassment wash over her and heighten the gift of herself.

Blake

Blake took his time retrieving a condom from his pants pocket, slipping it over the length of his cock. Not looking at her—he couldn’t. Like Erin had done in class that first day with her pens and her notebook, keeping herself hidden because to see would be too much. Her beauty too blinding and his own weakness at the fore. He wanted to ravage her in a way that would change her, indelibly bind her to him so that neither of them could break loose.

He was afraid, though, of the tension rippling through his arms, the dark murmurs of his heart. He could be too rough like this. He needed to check himself even if she wanted to give him full rein. What if he hurt her? What if he scared her away?

But he wasn’t sure he could stop himself. Just warning himself to be careful wasn’t enough, not when his whole body bristled to take her. Erin knelt before him, the curve of her ass so sweet, the pink lips of her sex glistening. He was ravenous for her, desperate to be inside her and over her, surround her until all she breathed was him.