Speak No Evil: A Secret Society Student Teacher College Romance (The Society Book 3)

by Ivy Fox

  Thankfully a moment of clarity jerks me awake, and before he’s able to move an inch, I place my open palms against his broad chest, successfully stopping his next move. His dark brows crease in puzzlement when I step away from him, unlatching his grip on my waist.

  “Thank you for the champagne and dance, Mr. Turner. You made this night… interesting, to say the least. Enjoy the rest of your night.”

  I don’t wait for his reply and turn my back to him, quickly making my way to the front entrance of the club. Even if I wanted to stay and dance a little longer, I wouldn’t have a moment’s peace while he’s here. But just as I’m reaching the coat check girl to grab my belongings, I feel a soft tug to my elbow, halting my next step. His decadent masculine cologne reaches my senses long before his body gently slides behind me.

  “So that’s the end of it, huh?”

  “It’s the end of my night if that’s what you are referring to.”

  Ever so dutifully, he pulls my hair to one shoulder, leaving my neck exposed to him.

  As he draws in closer, his warm breath kissing my bare skin, it takes every ounce of my self-control not to lean back into him.

  “Pity. That’s not at all how I envisioned our night ending, Emma. I had such big plans for us.”

  I keep my lips sealed in a stern, thin line, not sure I trust myself enough not to throw caution to the wind and just fuck his brains out like every nerve in my body is demanding me to do. As much as I denied it earlier tonight when talking with my editor, an orgasm given by my trusty vibrator really can’t compare to the real thing. And I’ll admit, Colt bragging about his nine inches did intrigue me. But with my luck, he’d end up being all talk and very little follow-through.

  “Can I at least walk you to your car?” he questions politely, running a finger over my bare shoulder.

  Left to right.

  Slowly and purposeful.

  The seductive touch alone tells me his cavalier offer has very little to do with proper southern chivalry. Still, I don’t see the harm of having him accompany me to my car. Charlotte, compared to the streets of Boston, isn’t the least bit menacing, but it never hurts to have company especially given the late hour.

  I throw him a clipped nod, feeling his megawatt smile behind me burn my skin just as much as his finger had managed to do seconds ago. Once we’ve gathered our coats, Colt surprises me by grabbing my hand when leading me out of the club. My heart pounds erratically in my chest as we both walk out hand in hand, and to my utter embarrassment and shame, I don’t pull away from his touch.

  Let go, Emma.

  No.

  Not yet.

  I need this.

  If I can’t have the orgasm Colt promised, at least I won’t deny myself a bit of physical connection with another human being, even if it’s something as innocent as holding hands.

  Maybe Jenna is right. I should just go out with someone. I know dating seems pointless since I’m sure to return to Boston the minute my book is complete, so the idea of getting attached to someone here is bound to be more trouble than it’s worth.

  But then again, even before I came to North Carolina, I never had more than a few meaningless flings back home. No ex-husband or former fiancé. No mountain loads of ex-boyfriends milling about, just waiting for my return to Beacon Hill. Relationships were always a hard pass for me. Even as a teenager, I was never the type of girl who lost track of time doodling the name of her boyfriend on notebooks. I never got stars in my eyes or swooned over a guy. And as the years passed into adulthood, I found I preferred having the easy, uncomplicated one night stands here and there to a messy, lengthy relationship. Men have always been intimidated by my focused, aggressive nature. And being put last on my list of priorities has never been something men find appealing or attractive. Their egos bruise far too easily when faced with such independence, and I, for one, don’t have the patience, time, or tolerance to placate any man’s wounded pride.

  But it does get lonely.

  As much as I value my independence, it still doesn’t keep me warm at night. The feminist in me cringes at such a thought, but it is what it is.

  “Emma, are you still with me?” Colt asks when we’ve gone a few minutes without exchanging a word to one another.

  I just nod in reply, too scared that I’ll hear the dismay in my own voice and end up taking him home against my better judgment. Colt looks down at me hesitantly and gives my hand a tiny, comforting squeeze.

  “Good. Now, which one is yours?” he asks, scanning the parked cars on both sides of the street.

  “It’s just a block away from here. I couldn’t find a closer parking space, unfortunately.”

  I’m sure Colt found one just fine. I bet the club even has a parking spot reserved just for him—one of the many perks of having Richfield as a surname.

  “You think you’re up for a walk in those killer heels?” he teases, his gaze falling once again to my legs.

  I slant my eyes at his unabashed ogling.

  “Why don’t I just walk myself to the car, and you can turn back around and salvage the rest of your night?” I reply, thinking maybe it wasn’t the best decision to accept his offer of walking me to my car.

  Lord knows that with each second that passes by, my resolve in not taking Colt up on his offer slowly begins to waver.

  “That’s not happening.”

  I huff out, frustrated at his insistence of playing the role of a gentleman when we both know he’s anything but, and start walking in the direction of my car. To my utter chagrin, the silence that stretches out between us only increases the already heightened sexual tension. His thumb keeps gently caressing over mine, turning the simple touch into the most sensual displays of affection I’ve received since God knows when. It doesn’t help that the street is eerily quiet and abandoned of all life, making it feel as if we are the only people on Earth.

  Relief fills me when I see my car just a few rows down, but before I’m able to point it out to him, Colt turns me around by my waist, slamming our chests together.

  “What are you doing?” I stammer, surprised by his sudden assault.

  His eyes fall to my lips, his hands now firmly wrapped around my waist, making my chest heave up and down at the proximity of our bodies. I swallow dryly when his front teeth bite the corner of his bottom lip, that damn sparkle in his eyes back with a vengeance. When my skin begins to break out in goosebumps in anticipation of his next move, the last remnants of logic snaps my spine in place, determined to put a stop to this once and for all.

  “Take your hands off of me. I won’t warn you a second time, Mr. Turner,” I threaten with an annoyed tone, trying my damndest to break free from his hold. But the man is granite steel, so my attempts are meaningless.

  Instead of releasing me as I ordered, Colt changes tactics by grabbing me by the wrist and pulling me into a nearby alley. He crowds me until my back is flush against the cool brick wall, but I keep my expression blank and unbothered, showing him I’m not one bit intimidated by the move.

  “You turned me down.”

  “You’ll live,” I reply sternly with a roll of my eyes.

  Men and their egos.

  It doesn’t matter how old they are. If they don’t get their hands on the new shiny toy that appeared in front of them, they pout like fucking toddlers.

  “Tell that to my blue balls,” he jokes, but the humor never meets his emerald eyes.

  “Why did you pull me in here?” I ask in an attempt to divert the conversation as far away as I can from his dick. It’s bad enough I feel its hard length poke me in the stomach.

  “Because I want to hear the words come out of your mouth.”

  “What words?” My brows crease in confusion.

  “I don’t want to fuck you, Colt. Those words.”

  I bite my inner cheek because he’s decided to play dirty. If I say I’m not the least bit interested in sleeping with him, he’ll read the lie stamped on my forehead. If I don’t say it, then I’m a c
oward—the same coward who is too preoccupied with what people will think if they find out, rather than giving in to my urges.

  “I won’t be the teacher who will play out your schoolboy fantasy,” I counter coolly.

  “Is that why you backed out, Emma?” He leans closer to the crook of my neck, his hot breath tickling my earlobe, sending shivers down my spine. “I told you before I wouldn’t tell a soul. No one will ever know.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “I’m a Richfield. Believe me. Fucking you wouldn’t even make it in our family’s monthly newsletter of exploits. Whether I fuck you or not is completely inconsequential. So why would I tell anyone?” he rebukes with a tone so arctic that it silences me.

  Well, that was a blow to my ego. Ouch.

  It’s only with the way he runs the back of his knuckles up and down my cheek that I still feel any type of warmth run down my body.

  “Still… it’s such a shame that you won’t get to cum on your birthday. Such a fucking waste.”

  I laugh at that.

  “You think you’re the only one who can make a woman cum on demand? Please. I can do that just fine on my own.”

  “Wouldn’t you prefer a man do it for you, though?”

  “If there were one here in front of me, then I might consider it. Right now, all I see is a boy who is sulking because he didn’t get what he wanted.”

  “Say that again,” he growls menacingly, grabbing the nape of my neck, pulling my face to meet his. “Call me a boy again, Emma. I fucking dare you.”

  The faint sound of the ‘b’ barely has time to escape my lips before Colt’s mouth latches onto mine. I gasp in both surprise and elation at how good it feels just to be kissed again. Colt takes advantage of my parted lips, breaking through the seams with his tongue, waging war on mine. I’m assaulted by a myriad of overwhelming sensations. He tastes like rich champagne, his warm tongue a complete contrast to the cool air touching my cheeks. He sucks on my bottom lip, nibbling at it so deliciously my core clenches again, reminding me how empty it feels. I hear myself whimper as one of his hands travels up my thigh while the other still cradles the base of my neck. I feel like I’m going to run out of oxygen with his overpowering dominance, and yet, even air doesn’t seem as vital as continuing with this kiss.

  “Jesus, you taste good,” he grunts after breaking free from the maddening kiss to nibble on my lower lip, his hard cock rubbing against my empty core.

  I am not fucking Colt Turner in an alley.

  I AM NOT fucking my student in a godforsaken alley.

  Emma! Don’t you fucking do it!

  I repeat the mantra like a lifeline to keep my movements in check, but the way I grind on his thigh tells me that my body isn’t listening to a word I tell it.

  “You don’t want to fuck. Then we won’t. But let me make you cum, Em. Let me make you fucking cum like you deserve,” he pleads, biting into my neck on a groan as he strips me of my coat.

  Breathless and powerless to stop this from progressing any further, my head falls back onto the brick wall behind me, my hands pushing down on his shoulders with all my might.

  It’s my silent agreement to this reckless contract between us.

  Colt doesn’t even flinch with the request. He goes down on his haunches, eagerly pushing my dress up my thighs. It fucking takes forever for it to rise up enough for his face to be exactly where I need it most.

  “Is this a good enough alternative for you, professor?” He winks up at me defiantly, pulling my wet panties to the side. Tired of his arrogant, smug smirk, I grab his throat, Colt’s eyes going wide in alarm with the unexpected force.

  “I’ve had enough of your mouth, Mr. Turner. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity for you. I wouldn’t ruin your chances by saying the wrong fucking thing that will ensure I change my mind.”

  His eyes go half-mast before he sinks his teeth into my inner thigh.

  “Argh,” I cry before I’m able to silence my wail with my palm.

  “My name is Colt. Remember that, Em, because you’ll be screaming it out in about a minute.”

  “Always so cocky,” I whisper hoarsely, pulling at the ends of his hair. “Why don’t you put your money where your mouth is—or in this case, your tongue. Prove to me that you can put it to better use than just bore me with your never-ending wit.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he says before licking his lips and doing what he’s told.

  The minute his strong tongue taps my sensitive nub, I see stars.

  God help me, but it’s been too long.

  Colt drags his tongue over my slit, my clit swelling with each deliberate stroke. He pulls my left leg over his shoulder, followed by my right, my fingers entwined in his hair. The brick wall behind me is the only thing keeping me from falling. Colt never falters, though. His large hands squeeze my ass cheeks, pushing my wet pussy closer to his mouth so he can continue to devour me with a hunger that matches my own. The sound of him eating me out is just as stimulating as his masterful touch. I gasp out loud with each talented stroke, weaving my fingers through his silky brown hair until my nails bite into his scalp when he scrapes my clit with his teeth. Either due to the fact that I haven’t had a man go down on me in ages, or because Colt is a pro at using his tongue, my orgasm begins to build up, threatening to end this sooner than I’d expected. I close my eyes to keep myself centered, just so I can ride this wave a little longer. But it’s no use. Without my consent, my body begins to contract, a telltale sign that I’m right on the verge of coming undone.

  “Fuck,” he growls, pissed when I let out an earthshattering wail, the orgasm ripping through me. “That one didn’t count, Em. Not by a fucking long shot. Consider it a warm-up.”

  With each sharp intake of breath, I command my heart to slow down, but it’s an impossible feat with such a man on his knees intent on tearing me apart.

  Colt slows down his ministrations, giving my body just enough time to recover before he rekindles the flame still burning inside me. This time his stabbing tongue dives deep into my core, making me crave the feel of his hard cock. The way he lavishes me with slow, torturous thrusts of the tongue has me gasping for air, but that doesn’t satisfy him. Colt’s thumb eagerly seeks out my swollen clit, ruthlessly teasing it until I’m a panting mess and writhing again within seconds. Broken moans fall from my lips, encouraging him to accelerate his intense tempo. My chest heaves with each ragged breath, my tender breasts aching for his attention.

  I’m so punch drunk on the moment it takes me a while to hear the lively chatter coming from across the street. Two couples dressed from head to toe in Halloween costumes talk and laugh animatedly with each other, completely unaware that just a few feet away from them, I have my student on his knees, intent on making me cum for a second time tonight.

  My eyes fall to Colt in warning, my heels digging into his back to grab his attention. Sensing my gaze on him, his green eyes latch onto mine. I tilt my head to the side, alerting him of our unexpected audience. With an arrogant smirk, he breaches my wet pussy with two of his fingers, his mouth never leaving my dripping wet entrance. As punishment, I dig my heels harder into his back, biting my knuckles to prevent giving our location away with my moans. His fierce grip on my ass only aids him in fucking me blind with his fingers. It’s when he inserts another digit inside me all of me begins to quiver. My legs stiffen around his shoulders, my core threatening to spasm around his digits and well-versed tongue at any second. Just as Colt intended, the last thing on my mind is who could possibly be watching us right now. All I want is to fall a second time over the precipice, and damn who sees it. My head falls back onto the brick wall, my teeth biting into my lip as the heat of white light overtakes all my senses.

  He was right.

  The first orgasm was just a warm-up because this one just blew it out of the water.

  All of my body is on fire, the two orgasms just a taste of what promises to be some of the best sex of my life. Gently, Colt puts me do
wn and rises to his full height, my arousal coating his chin. He leans in and kisses me, my taste still wet on his lips. Just like his first kiss, this one is intoxicating and dominant. My fingers weave into his hair, loving how his chest rubs against my sensitive nipples.

  “Fuck,” he groans, breaking our kiss. “I want to be inside you right now, Em. Are you sure there isn’t anything I can say to change your mind?”

  With one hand, I trail a finger down his chest until I find his stiff cock ready and eager to do just that. He bites into my shoulder as I cup his steel cock. “Jesus, you’re going to make me cum if you keep that shit up.”

  “It doesn’t bode well for your reputation if you can cum with just a gentle stroke,” I tease before adding more pressure to his suffering member.

  “God, you’re infuriating. Sexy as hell, but still infuriating.”

  “The same can be said about you, Mr. Turner.”

  “I’d bet you’d be singing a different tune with your pussy clenched around my cock.”

  “All I see is a boy who talks a good game but probably doesn’t have the skills to deal with a real woman.” I bait him, my voice dripping with want.

  The dark look returns to his face, flipping my body around in one fell swoop.

  “Fuck this,” he growls, gently pressing my face against the wall. “That’s the second time you called me a boy, Em. Put your hands up against the wall. Now!” he orders, before biting my lobe, so exquisitely that my toes curl in my heels.

  “What are you doing?” I ask with bated breath.

  “If I can’t fuck you, then at least I’m going to use this fine ass to jerk me off into oblivion. Don’t worry. I’ll have you cumming before you know it.”

  With my dress still hiked up to my waist and my bare ass at his mercy, I spread my hands on the cool brick wall just as he ordered. With one hand, he plays with my pussy while his other holds the back of my neck to keep me in place, his cock at the crook of my ass.

  The next few minutes are filthy and dirty.

  And God help me, it’s exactly what I needed.