Rewriting History

“Anything for you, baby girl. Anything.” He grabs my hand and pulls me up and into his arms.

“Happy New Year,” he whispers, tilting my face up to his. Our lips touch, and I smile I back up against the wall and with force, I grab him, pulling his hard body against mine. His large hands wrap around my neck as he pulls my face toward his, our lips a centimeter away from touching. Our heavy breaths mingle as we stare deep into each other’s soul.

His hand leaves my neck as he grabs my wrists, placing them above my head against the wall. Moving his head to my ear, he whispers seductively, “Don’t move your hands from where they are.”

Those simple dominant words send a throb right down to my core. If I wasn’t already soaking, I’m soaked now. My skin forms goose bumps, the hairs on my body standing on end as his hands make their way down my arms. His touch is slow and featherlike. I gasp, resting my head against the wall as his hands move over my breasts, then my stomach, finally grabbing ahold of my hips.

He’s down on his knees as he unzips my short strapless dress. Once the zip is open far enough, it falls, pooling at my feet. My breathing intensifies as his gaze moves over my violet strapless bra and matching thong.

His mouth makes contact with my flat stomach. I gasp as his tongue snakes its way down my pelvis, teasing the line of my thong. I am so fucking turned on, and it’s taking all my effort not to move.

I am so focused on what he was doing with his tongue that I didn’t feel him unclip my bra. One hand grabs my nipple and he squeezes it. Hard. My eyes open in shock as I look down at him, an intense aching traveling to my core.

I don’t know how much more I can handle. I’m aroused to the point where I’m hurting. I groan as he kisses the fabric of my thong. He grabs the side of the lacy material and pushes it to the side, exposing my wetness.

“Oh, God,” I whimper, my legs buckling.

He runs his fingers over my slit, back and to the front again. My hands make their way into his hair as my legs get shaky.

“Argh,” I gasp. My eyes widen, shocked at the burning sensation on the side of my ass. Did he just spank me? I laugh, because it’s all I can do.

“What did I tell you, Jill? Keep your hands above your head.” His face is serious and intense.

God, if that didn’t just turn me on even more...

I love this dominant display. He’s making me ache for his hard cock. He stands up and rips off his shirt. The buttons fly everywhere as he makes do of jerking his pants to around his knees.

His hands behind my thighs force my legs around his waist, where his cock rocks against my clit.

“Please, Eli, just fuck me already. I need you,” I howl.

In one quick thrust, Eli’s impaled in me to the hilt.

“Jesus Christ, you’re so tight,” he groans, pulling out to the tip and forcing himself back inside me.

Each hit brings me closer to the edge. I can feel the sweat from his hands holding me up. Leaning my head forward, my mouth finds his. Our kiss is rough but passionate as our tongues dance.

“I’m close,” Eli groans, biting down on my bottom lip, hard.

The pain erupts my orgasm. My pussy squeezes his cock as he pumps me roughly. He stills, spilling his release inside of me. He places sweet kisses on my mouth as I’m put back on the ground. He’s still placing little kisses over my body as he dresses me again.

“Happy New Year, pretty girl,” he whispers in my ear. “You know what they say.”

“What’s that?” I giggle, kissing him again.

“What you’re doing when the clock strikes twelve, you’ll be doing all year.”

Chapter Seventeen

Eli

This is the last time she’ll be waking up in my bed—until the end of the school year, anyway. I reach out and run my finger down her bare back. My cock throbs for her, but she’s so peaceful I don’t want to wake her. Instead I lay there, listening to the sound of her soft breaths.

We’ve avoided talking about my work all through the holidays—I think because she knows where it is going. I can’t be with one of my students, no matter how strongly I feel. It’s just wrong. It was bad enough when she wasn’t in my classes, but to have her there . . . she doesn’t get what a distraction she is to me. To have her sit there, when I know that in a few hours she could be straddling my lap … I couldn’t handle it.

I sigh and close my eyes. This separation is less about my morals and more about my fear of getting caught. Why do I even care if my father knows I’m still seeing her? I hate that I care so much about what he thinks.

It's after nine when she wakes. I've been lying here for nearly three hours just watching her. Maybe that's creepy, or maybe I just want to make the most of today because I know how long it will be before we can do this again. I want to remember every single thing about her. She rolls over and smiles at me.