She was so wet that my tongue slipped easily inside of her hot folds, and she tasted even sweeter than I imagined. I lap up her excitement, filling my mouth with her juices as her back arched and she let out a moan.
“Oh God,” she panted, thrashing against the bed when I found her clit with my tongue. “Caleb, I… I…”
I bit gently onto her clit, then relieved the flash of pain by suckling softly on her lips. She pressed her hips forward, needing more, and I flicked her clit again with my tongue as I slipped a finger into her slick, tight and throbbing entrance.
And then her entire body stiffened, and she let out one final gasp before going silent. Stunned and powerless as the orgasm claimed her entire body.
I kept my fingers pressed inside of her, intensifying the hot contractions of her climax by digging my fingertip into her soft insides.
More moans escaped he lips as I flicked my tongue back and forth over her clit. Her whole body began to shake and her legs clamped around my neck.
“Oh Caleb!”
I didn’t stop until I felt the orgasm leave her, and her hips sink back onto the bed. Then I stopped and let her lick the remnants of her pleasure from my fingers.
Once she had caught her breath, she turned to me.
?
??Now what?”
“That’s enough for one night,” I said. She needed to pace herself.
We both did.
10
DAISY
I didn’t mean to throw open the door to the headmaster’s office, but I was so high-strung that I let my nerves get the best of me. I could not remember the last time I had such a bad case of the Mondays. In the few hours since I got to Bellamy Day that morning, I had already managed to spill coffee on my work shirt, drop an entire jar of bright blue finger paint in the supply closet, and slam my fingers into the desk drawer in my classroom, which resulted in yet another blooper for the day, teaching my entire classroom of students a new vocabulary word for the week -- “SHIT!”
I blamed Monday, but I knew that the real reason that I was flustered was because I was still caught up on Friday night. I had been replaying what happened in that private room at the club with Caleb, and I could not get the image out of my head. Every time I thought about it, my entire body flushed with heat and I felt my heart start to race. I had never felt so out of control in my life. And I have never felt so connected to someone, either.
Of course I would not admit that Caleb was right. I would not concede. And I definitely, definitely could not see him again.
My mind was already racing with thoughts, and getting called into Mr. Richmond’s office was the last thing I needed.
The door clattered when I opened it, striking into the wall, and Mr. Richmond glares up with a beady set of eyes.
“Have a seat, Miss Wright,” he instructed, pointing at an empty chair in front of his desk. The seat next to it was occupied by a plain woman in a cheap pea-green suit that told me, before I even caught a glimpse of the name badge clipped to her lapel, that she was a CPS caseworker.
I quietly took a seat and crossed my ankles, wondering what this this is about. When I worked back at that school in Brooklyn, CPS visits were an almost weekly occurrence. There were far more seldom at Bellamy. I couldn’t even remember the last time I found myself sitting in on an investigation.
“I apologize for having to call you away from your class,” Mr. Richmond said to me. “But Miss Peters here thought it might be urgent that we discuss the status of one of your students.”
Oh shit, I thought, picturing the students in my classroom and trying to work out which one is the subject of this investigation.
“It’s about a student named Emmy Preston,” Miss Peters said, turning to me with pursed lips.
“What?” I was caught off guard. There was already an open investigation with her mother. Why was this woman here now?
Miss Peters blinked at me, and I noticed that she’s wearing that generic, faux-sympathetic expression on her face.
“Some parents have expressed concern over things that their children have overheard from Emmy,” Mr. Richmond said, clearing his throat.
“Like what?”
“Apparently Emmy has been bragging to other students about her new apartment,” Miss Preston snipped, still eyeing me. “At The Camden.”