Professor

And among his worldly things, I noticed the one piece of decor he was missing.

Pictures. Of his family, friends … of himself.

I faced Lucian, saw him standing in the entryway to his kitchen, the lights off aside from the low entryway one he’d turned on when we arrived. The shadows played across his body, accenting the lean and cut muscle underneath his tailored slacks and Oxford shirt.

My mouth went dry, knowing he watched me even though I couldn’t see his face clearly, couldn’t make out his eyes with the darkness that surrounded him.

He’d let me wander, looking at his possessions, running my fingers over them.

He pushed away from the wall and took a step toward me, slipping his hands into the pockets of his slacks, his head slightly lowered as he continued to watch me. I moved closer to the piano, saw he tracked my movements like a predator watching his prey. The hairs on my arms stood on end from awareness, from realizing that in this moment I was very much at the mercy of Lucian, of my feelings.

I felt like he stalked me, like he knew my every move before I even took the step.

“How about some wine?” he asked, but it wasn’t so much a question as him telling me that’s what he was going to get for us no matter what.

“Okay,” I said softly and then licked my lips.

Lucian went into the kitchen, the sound of cabinets opening and wineglasses clinking together drowning out some of the stillness in the air. I sat on the bench and ran my fingers along the smooth keys of the piano, the ivory cool to the touch, the feeling of soft silkiness beneath the pads of my digits comforting.

I didn’t know how to play, but I could picture Lucian sitting right in this very spot, his fingers moving effortlessly over the keys, the sounds he created filling the air. I closed my eyes, picturing that very moment, imagining being in the room with him as he played.

I hadn’t heard him come back, and when I felt him stand behind me, his arms pressed right next to mine, his fingers over mine, a small sound escaped me. I snapped my eyes open and was about to turn, but he made a soft, almost disapproving sound in the back of his throat. I sat there frozen, unable to move, the side of his face so close to mine, his chest barely brushing against my back.

I stared straight ahead, could feel that he was as well. And then I felt him slide his hands underneath mine. My fingers now rested on top of his, mirrored, a parallel image of what he was doing. He didn’t speak, but his close proximity was so intense it had my arousal rising to the surface viciously.

I clenched my thighs together as wetness started to pool on my panties. I felt my nipples harden underneath my blouse. Fire licked over my skin, from the tips of my fingers to the bottom of my feet. I tried to breathe normally, to attempt to act like this wasn’t affecting me. But I failed miserably.

And then he started playing, my fingers still over his, as if I were a child stepping on his feet and he moved with me, my actions mirroring his. He was so calm, so collected as he played the piano, the notes filling the room, surrounding us, like little bee stings all along my body. I started breathing harder, this moment so intimate I couldn’t even concentrate.

I parted my mouth, breathing deeper, the air coming in and out of me in short, fast pants. And still he moved fluidly over the keys, playing a song I didn’t know but was mesmerized with. I curled my toes against the soles of my shoes, pulled my legs closer to my body so my feet were now on the tips, my thighs clenched tightly together.

The flow of arousal was constant between my thighs.

The way I had my legs, pressing on that bundle of nerves at the apex of my pussy, had me nearly moaning. The feel of his chest to my back, of his body heat seeping into me, had little beads of sweat pooling between my breasts. I felt dizzy, the light-headedness making me even more aroused.

He barely touched me, said nothing, but I was on the verge of climaxing from this one single moment. I felt his cheek against mine, the stubble from his days’ worth of growth slightly abrasive, completely arousing.

The feel of his warm breath moving along my cheek had me closing my eyes and biting the inside of my cheek. I almost moaned … almost came right then. And the longer he played, the more I clenched my thighs against my clit, the higher my arousal grew.