Page 10 of Marrying My Professor

Alexander stands at the foot of the bed, his silhouette dark and imposing against the soft light. His eyes are pure, hungry possession. My eyes dark around the wine colored room that looks similar to the other rooms we just watched other people having sex in. My heart races at the idea of an audience watching as Alexander brings me to my knees.

“Are we really about to fuck for the first time?”

“No mirrors in here, Elara,” he says, his voice a low rumble that vibrates in my bones. “I don’t want to share this view with anyone but myself.”

He moves then, a predator’s grace, coming to kneel on the bed beside me. His knuckles brush my cheek, a touch so at odds with the way he threw me down that my body jerks at the sensation. “Before we begin, beautiful, I need you to know that at any time we can stop.”

I scoff. “I’m not going to want to stop.”

“You don’t know what I am going to do to you,” he whispers, a wicked smile spreads across his face, and he looks closer to a devil than anything else. My pussy flutters at the sight. “And since this is our first time you need to know the color code. Red. Yellow. Green. Do you understand what they mean?”

He stares at me with lidded eyes, but I can tell he is serious from his tone, and I don’t want to ruin anything going on between us with a smart ass comment. From what I heard, people who participate in BDSM are serious about boundaries and consent, so now is the time to answer correctly, and not ruin whatever this is.

I swallow, my mouth dry. “Red for stop. Yellow for… slow down?”

“And green?” he prompts, his thumb tracing my lower lip.

“Green for… good.”

“Good girl.” The praise sends a shiver straight to my core. “Use them. I will listen. But if you don’t use them, I will assume you are green. Understand this is not the time to be a brat, or just try to take it?”

I nod, a quick, jerky movement. Brat. The word shouldn’t thrill me, but it does. It explains the tension that’s been crackling between us all night, my sharp retorts, his smoldering looks.

“Words, Elara.”

“Yes. Understood.”

His hands find the tie in the back of my neck, loosens the straps and slides them down my shoulders. The cool air kisses my skin, raising goosebumps. My breasts are immediately on display and his eyes follow as the fabric of my dress slips around my waist. My breath hitches. His gaze is a physical weight, hot and appreciative.

“So beautiful,” he murmurs, more to himself than to me. His palms cup my breasts, his thumbs circling my nipples until they peak into hard, aching points. A soft whimper escapes me. “Color?”

“Green,” I breathe. “Very green.”

He smiles, a dark, satisfied curve of his lips. He leans down, and his mouth closes over one nipple. The sensation is electric, a sharp, sweet pull that makes my back arch off the bed. He licks, sucks, teases, while his fingers pinch and roll the other. The dual assault scrambles my thoughts, leaving only sensation. Heat pools low in my belly, a desperate, throbbing need.

He moves lower, his hands pushing the rest of my dress down over my hips. He strips the blue silk away completely, leaving me naked and exposed on the dark sheets. He sits back on his knees leaning over the edge of the bed, his eyes drinking me in. “Perfect.”

Then his hands are on my thighs, pushing them apart. He settles between them, his suit pants rough against my inner skin. He doesn’t kiss me. He just… looks. The intimacy of it is almost worse than a touch. I feel utterly seen.

“You’ve been a brat all evening,” he says conversationally, his fingers tracing idle patterns on my inner thigh, so close to where I ache. “Testing me. Pushing. I think you need to come before we go any further. To take the edge off that sharp tongue.”

Before I can reply, his head dips. His mouth finds me, and I cry out.

His tongue parts me, licking a slow, firm stripe from bottom to top. He circles my clit, once, twice, then sucks it gently into the heat of his mouth. My hands fist in the sheets. Oh god. The pleasure is immediate and intense, a coil tightening deep inside.

“Alexander…” I gasp.

His lips leave my core, and I whimper at the loss, my body arching toward him. But he doesn’t give me what I want. Instead, his mouth trails up my inner thigh, planting soft, teasing kisses that make my skin tingle. Each kiss is deliberate, purposeful, like he’s mapping out every inch of me. "You’re so eager, pet," he murmurs, his breath hot against my skin. "But you’ve been teasing me all night, so it’s only right I return the favor."

His hand lands on my thigh with a sharp slap, the sound echoing in the quiet room. I gasp, the sting mingling with the ache between my legs. "Color?" he asks, his tone calm but expectant.

"Yellow," I pant, my voice trembling. "No green."

He stops, looking up at me from between my legs. His breath blowing lightly against my clit. “I need you to be sure. Yellow or Green.”

“Y-yellow.” I gasp out, the feeling of his breath on my clit making my body quiver.

“Good, I’ll be gentler.”