him home. She couldnât, not now. She stepped back, raised her skirt inch by inch and then reached for the back of his head. It made so much sense to guide his face to her cunt. She held him there while he kissed the cotton of her wet panties. Impatient, she pulled them off and pressed his mouth to her. She put one foot on the bed frame and he pushed his tongue into her, licking, eyes closed. His tongue felt muscular and agile as he pressed further in, his breath warm against her. She angled her pelvis down and he licked her clitoris in strong sweeps, no tickling teasing, just the forceful push of his tongue over and over.
âMarcusâ¦â She was about to tell him to suck her but he needed no instruction. Fettered as he was, his lips closed over her clit and pulled fiercely, drinking her. She felt the scrape of his perfect white teeth grazing her clit, his hungry mouth raising the burn and slam of a searing orgasm. He didnât stop until her cries had died away. She pulled him back by the hair, fist locked at the nape of his neck. The fingers of her other hand petted his face. She fell to her knees, thighs pressed together, and reached up to kiss him, his mouth slick with his
come and her own taste.
His cock was coming up again. Jesus. That brought her back to her college boyfriends. She pushed the thought of really having him away. Marcus was never going to be hers, she didnât get to have him. She wanted him, so badly she could taste itâhis arm thrown over her in sleep, her feet dipping into his bath, his cock stretching and driving her. No, Jen. What he had to give would not be enough. But tenderly she kissed him, leaning into him. Her lips and tongue-tip tested until her mouth locked over his, and her head swirled. In his aura, in the heat of him, she felt secure, right. She pulled back and reached behind him to release his arms. She stood abruptly, her skirt swishing back into place. She picked up his underwear, tucked it into the pocket of his jeans.
âYou can go home without wearing these, and feel every thread of your jeans against those tender parts of yours. With every little chafe youâll remember your lesson.â
She slapped his hands on the chest of drawers and pulled the plug from him, ignoring his sudden exhalation and the way his ass clenched on its emptiness. She walked out, leaving him to dress and return to his books.
Jen made it to the hall downstairs. She leaned against the wall and slid to the floor. She rested her chin on her knees and fiddled with her earring. She thought of her orgasm and a searing physical memory flashed through her. Shit. What was she going to do?
Marcus walked down the stairs. She watched his
knees approaching, looked away as his crotch hove into view. He sat down beside her, gingerly, and leaned his head against hers for a second.
âAre you okay?â she asked, her voice dull. Fatigue robbed her of any interest in continuing the game.
He nodded. âMy ass is killing me though.â
She smiled. âPerhaps it will put the agony of studying into perspective.â
âYeah.â
Her voice became brisk. âRight. How many weeks left? Two? So will I see you next week?â He nodded. âBring your books, and two essay plans. Timeâs running out, Exam Boy.â
They stood, and moved to the door. She rested a light hand on his back as he walked out.
âAnd Marcus?â
âYes?â
âIf you donât have your work done next weekââhe smirked suggestively but grew serious as she finishedââthen thereâs nothing more I can do for you.â He stared at her, then nodded. She hadnât been testing him, but his acceptance stung her nonetheless. She wished he would argue, even just a little bit. But they both got it. There was no room for romance.
Â
After he left she watched his back; his long legs walking down the lane, away. His stride was more careful than the one he had