Tutoring the Delinquent
I watch down the length of my body as she goes to town on my sac, sucking the entirety of them past her lips, moaning brokenly, her hand working my cock in fast strokes. My God. Oh my God. She has no business being so goddamn good at this.
“I’m going to come,” I growl, barely able to hold myself up. “I’ve got maybe ten seconds in me. You’re so good, angel. Honey. You’re so fucking good.”
That’s when she sinks her fingernails into my ass, pulling me closer—and the tip of my dick smashes against the back of her throat. My vision goes black and I roar, fucking her mouth for everything I’m worth. Humping like a dog. There’s no stopping me. I’m a wild animal. There’s a lightning flash of worry that I’m hurting her, ruining everything, but she’s clutching my ass cheeks like life preservers, grinding me against her face.
“I’m going to make you my wife,” I slur, grunting, hips moving like pistons. “Going to put a diamond on that fucking finger. You’re mine. This mouth is MINE.”
Relief doesn’t arrive like it normally does, in a slow wave. No, it’s a monsoon. I shout her name at the top of my lungs, my muscles seizing up, balls twisting in my stomach and it goes on forever, forever, just blast after blast of fiery liquid pounding up my cock and spilling into her mouth, down her sweet, giving throat and she takes as much as she can. She takes so much, but when she makes the slightest choking sound, alarm bells go off in my head—my girl trusts me and I won’t violate that. I’ve already gone way too far too fast.
“Iris,” I say raggedly, the last ounce of semen draining from my tip. Shuddering, covered in sweat, I pull her into my arms, rocking back and forth like a madman. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I was so fucking rough. I didn’t—”
“I loved it,” she breathes, her own breath labored. Eyes bright. “I can’t b-believe I can…”
I tilt her chin up, on the edge of my seat. “What, honey?”
“I can’t believe I have to power to d-do that to you.”
Am I dreaming? Or is she really this much of a miracle?
Desperate to give her the same pleasure she just gifted me with, my index and middle finger find the front of her panties, rubbing her clit through the now drenched material of her panties. “That’s right, honey. You rule me. And now you know. You rule my body and I rule this hot young cunt. Come for your man now. I know you need it.”
She nods, glazed eyes finding mine. She sobs, chest heaving faster and faster until she begins to writhe and strain in my arms. Knowing the skin-on-skin contact will push her over the edge, I sink my fingers into her panties, between the folds of her sex and rub faster, faster, propelling her into a moaning and twisting fit, her eyes never leaving mine.
“I love you,” I say through my teeth when she climaxes, her moisture coating my fingers and spilling all the way down to my wrist, her lavender scent wafting up and making me salivate. “I love you, Iris.”
“I love you, too,” she gasps back, letting me pull her down onto the blanket and hold her like the world is ending. It’s not, though, I tell myself. It’s only starting. I have her now.
The sweet way she curls into me and dozes off is almost enough to make me forget what I said back at the field to my teammates. How I lied. How I put that terrible filth into the universe. But I’ll protect her from finding out how far I’ll go to keep other men away.
I won’t let it touch her.
I’d quite literally kill myself if I hurt Iris.
Chapter Eight
Iris
The next day and a half are blissfully…intense.
After our study session at the cove, Teddy drove us home. We ordered takeout from the Chinese restaurant down the street from the apartment and we studied some more. This time, there was no kissing agreement, as much as I would have loved one, because I meant what I said. He’s going to pass the test and play in the championship. The more that becomes a reality, the more I can see he yearns to be out on the field. He was born for it.
Several times throughout that night together, we woke up straining against each other, his fingers in my panties, his hips restless against my thigh. In his half-asleep delirium, he proposed to me no less than a dozen times, his tongue moving feverishly in my mouth, on my breasts. It’s a miracle I made it through the night with my virginity intact, but I did. And the next night, too, though my boyfriend has started prowling around me like a wolf stalking a lamb.