He’s thick and hard for me. A thought wiggles in my mind, wondering if he was hard when Sabrina was here, but I force it away. He is mine, this cock is mine, and I don’t want either of us to ever forget it again.
I lap at his head, tasting the salty velvet of his skin. I don’t go slow this time, don’t wait for him to take over and fuck my mouth. No, this time, I’m in charge, and I want to show him everything I feel without words . . . the possessiveness, the need, the love. I admit the word to myself, knowing that it’s too fast, but that doesn’t make it any less true.
I feast on him, taking him deep into my throat almost immediately and holding him there as I swallow. It feels odd, but when he grunts, his hands spearing into my hair, it’s worth it so I do it again. “Fuck, Daisy.”
I retreat to his tip, teasing along his slit to get the precum, the appetizer to what I want so desperately. “You like that?”
He grins at me, arrogance in his order. “Do it again.”
I almost obey. And then I think better of it. “What if I have something better in mind?”
His hand in my hair tightens as he holds my head still, bending down to rumble against my ear. “Better than my cock down your throat as you massage my tip with your muscles, swallowing like a needy girl even though I haven’t given you my cum yet? Better than that?”
Fuck.
“Let’s see what you think,” I tease. I lift my hair, pulling my necklace off. It’s just a costume length of pearls, but they’re of good quality so they’re smooth. I untie the knot I’d looped into the necklace this morning, delighted that Connor is watching me with interest. Slowly, I wrap the beads around his pulsing shaft, careful not to get them too tight. I need them to move against, not pinch, his sensitive skin. I take a moment to admire him with the new adornment, jacking him off slowly and peeking up to see his face awash in pleasure.
I let a dribble of spit out to lube along his shaft, coating the pearls and his skin. Then I take him, beads and all, into my mouth, spreading the saliva along him to ease my way. Once he’s slippery, I focus my tongue’s attention on his crown, letting my hands work the pearls up and down his length.
As I stroke him, I taunt him. “What do you think? Is my necklace wrapped around you as I jack you off into my hungry mouth better? Or maybe you want me to stop? Take the beads off and just lick you a bit?”
Connor’s head lifts from where it’d fallen back in the chair. His eyes are wide. “Holy shit, Daisy. I’ve never . . . that feels amazing. Squeeze me tighter.”
The victory rings between my legs, the thought that I’m making him this gone turning me on. I squeeze him tighter, rubbing the pearls up and down his shaft as I suck hard on his tip, hollowing my cheeks to make a vacuum. He fucks my hand, both of us working together to get him there.
And then he hisses, forcing my head down his shaft as he comes deep in my throat. I swallow over and over, wanting every drop. “Fuck, yes.” When I’ve gotten every pulse of his cum, I lick my way up his shaft and carefully unwind the necklace.
Connor grabs a tissue from his desk, offering it to me. I wipe down the length of pearls and then slip it back over my head, retying the length so that the knot hits right in my cleavage.
Connor fingers the pearls, following the line up to the satin skin of my neck, where he wraps his fingers around my throat, not tight but letting me know he’s there. “I think tonight, I’m going to give you a pearl necklace of a different sort. Would you like that, Daisy?”
I nod, my throat working against his palm when I swallow.
“Good girl. I’ll see you tonight. Be at my place at seven again.” Even at the praise and invitation, I deflate a bit. I didn’t think we were done here. I’m so fucking wet, my pussy needy for him. I squirm in my clothes, the cotton and denim too rough on my sensitive skin.
He smirks, and I realize this is part of the punishment too. He’s making me wait on purpose. “Remember, nobody touches you but me, not even you.”
I have a flash of wildness, but he sees it in my eyes. “And I’ll know if you do, and I’ll make you wait even longer.”
Shit. I’m not gonna tempt him to punish me that much. A spank here, a delay there, I can take and even enjoy. But something tells me that if Connor really got going on denying my orgasm, I’d be begging long before he’d give in.
“Yes, sir,” I say sarcastically. Okay, so I’m not going to give in sweetly, even if I am buckling with desire for what he’s offering.
I get up from the floor, dusting imaginary bits from my knees. I grab my bag and make to leave, but right before I open the door, he speaks. “And, Daisy?”
I turn around to see he’s got a huge shit-eating grin on his face. “Apology accepted.” He winks at me.
I fight the urge to beam at the silly praise, knowing that the anger of the sex and the punishment was all in fun, even if the overreaction on my part was so very real. I curtsy slightly, holding out an imaginary skirt, “Thank you, sir. See you tonight. I can’t wait.”
We both grin, and I close the door behind me, a spring in my step as I head to my last class of the day.
Connor
I’m trying my damnedest to wrap things up quickly, wanting to hit the gym with Nick before heading home to meet Daisy, when there’s a knock on my door.
“Come in,” I say, wishing whoever it is would go away so I can bail sooner rather than later. The thought is amplified when the door swings open and I see Dean Michaels in the doorway.
Fuck, does it smell like sex in here? Is he going to take one whiff of my office and know exactly what I’ve been doing? The obvious question if he realizes would be ‘with whom?’ and that’s the most dangerous inquiry I could face.
“Dean Michaels, come in,” I say, standing and offering a hand. He shakes mine and sits.
“Hey, Connor, how’s the world of mathematics treating you?” It’s his usual opening, but something feels off. Or maybe that’s my conscience talking.
“It’s pretty radical,” I joke back, the same as always. What can I say, math jokes are rarely funny, but we all tell them just the same.
He smiles his usual politician smile. He’s a man of few words. He told me once that he can’t be misquoted if he rarely speaks. But he’s smart and has run this department for decades, seeing and doing almost everything in his tenure. Something tells me he hasn’t gotten a pearl necklace blowjob in his office though. Although if you’d asked me that a couple of weeks ago, I wouldn’t have believed I’d ever say yes to that either.
“I heard the exciting news just now and wanted to be the first to congratulate you. Great job, Connor!” He offers a golf clap, obviously proud. “We’re lucky to have you here, and I recognize that. Just remember that when the other universities start headhunting you, okay?”
He’s blowing smoke up my ass, but I have no idea why. “I’ll certainly remember that, sir. But I’m afraid I’ve missed something. What exactly are you congratulating me on?”
He chuckles. “They haven’t contacted you yet? Well shit, guess I let the cat out of the bag then, didn’t I? No more Schrodinger’s Paradox here. The cat’s alive, for damn sure.” I still have no idea what he’s talking about, though I’m familiar with Schrodinger’s cat theory, both in the colloquial pop-culture reference and the more complex Copenhagen interpretation of quantum mechanics way.
He takes pity on me, finally explaining. “I got a call today from the TED talks people. It seems they’re doing some final research on a proposed presenter and wanted my input, a reference, if you will. They’re researching you, Connor.”
My mind whirls. Holy Shit! “That’s amazing, sir. No, I haven’t heard a thing, but that’d be such an honor.” It really is. TED talks are known as a way to bring complex subjects to the everyday person, a way to revolutionize our thinking about almost every topic on earth. An opportunity to speak on mathematics would be a great privilege, and partnered with my publishing, it would almost definitely make me a shoe-in for tenure, here o
r anywhere I wanted to go.
“Just remember where you come from when the time’s right, Connor. I’ll take good care of you here. You’re doing great work with the students, and more importantly, you bring attention to the mathematics program with your publishing, opportunities like this, and your willingness to play trained monkey at fundraisers.” His voice is serious again, politician-style in full effect.
I grin. “Can’t say I’ve ever been called a trained monkey as a compliment, but I get where you’re coming from. Not many of the math team are willing to schmooze with the pocketbooks for financial support, and I’m decent enough at it, so I don’t mind.”
He nods. “Good. Let me know when they contact you and it’s a done deal. I’ll add it to your tenure proposal for this year before the committee meeting.”
He stands, offering me a hand this time and then leaving. In the quiet of my office, I can see my future laid out before me. TED talks, tenure, publishing, research, teaching. All of it exactly what I’d always wanted, always dreamed about.
But now there’s more to my dreams. As wild as it may sound, I want all that plus Daisy. I want her by my side for everything. Hell, once she’s finished school, maybe we could even work together? The thought makes me grin. I’d reward her every solution with orgasms, thank her for hard work with my hands and tongue, and celebrate every milestone with my cock deep in her pussy. I think we’d work together quite beautifully.
I’m lost in the fantasy of what a shared life might look like when I hear a cleared throat from the doorway. “Ahem . . .”
I shake my head, clearing the rosy haze from my vision to see Nick leaning against the doorframe, grinning. “Lost in thought there, Mister Math?”
I smile back. “A bit. Got some good news and was imagining what it might be like if it’s true.”
His eyes spread wide. “Well, spill it. What’s the good news?”
I consider telling him about the TED talk. Hell, I consider telling him about Daisy. He’s my best friend, and though I’m well aware of how stupid what I’m doing is, there’s a part of me that wants to shout it from the rooftops. I’m proud that she’s mine, and hiding it feels like I’m ashamed. I’m not, but the consequences are dire. So I keep my mouth shut. “I can’t tell yet. Don’t want to jinx it. But as soon as I can, I’ll let you know.”
I know I’m talking about the TED talk more than Daisy. I don’t know how long it’ll be before we can let that particular cat of the bag. Sorry, Schrodinger.
“Alright, man. But I’m here whenever you’re ready, and it sounds like the first round is on me to celebrate. You ready to hit the gym?” That’s one of the reasons I love Nick, lame jokes aside. He’s here to support me and cheer when something good happens, but he’s a no-pressure type. If I need to disappear for weeks on end to work on something, he gets it because he’s the same way. We’ve had each other’s backs for a while now, and I appreciate that.
But right now, I don’t want to work out. I want to get home, be that much closer to Daisy coming over so I can tell her the good news. She’s who I really want to share this with, whether it actually comes through and happens or not.
“Sorry, man. Think I’m going to head home today. I’m too wired to work out. I’d be a shitty spotter, even if you’re a lightweight,” I tease.
Nick grins. “Fuck you. You know I lift more than you any day of the week.” He’s right, but I’m not going to tell him that. His ego’s already bigger than mine, and that’s saying something considering my ego’s magnitude.
We both laugh, and he leaves, promising to make me lift twice as long next week to make up for the skipped session. That’s fine by me if it gets me home to Daisy right now.
Daisy
Diary Entry, April 5th
Dear Diary,
It’s been three weeks and I still can’t quite believe it. Three weeks of secret rendezvous, praying we don’t get caught, and pushing boundaries. It’s been amazingly hot but also beautifully addicting.
My grades are even better, not because he’s going easy on me but because under his tutelage, I really feel more confident in myself. He makes me feel empowered. It’s me, my body, my personality, my heart, my intelligence . . . all that makes me Daisy Phillips that brought this man to his knees in a way he’d never even considered.
That confidence extends to the bedroom, although we rarely make it there, usually collapsing to the couch in his living room as soon as I walk in the door, at least for round one before slipping into his satin sheets. More than once, we’ve risked exposure by fucking in his office, but so far, we’ve been lucky and no one has caught on to us.
But it’s not just my body. More than anything, my mind is filled with thoughts of him. I feel like a cliché, but the physical connection has ignited an emotional one I’d never dreamed of. I’ve learned so much about him, revealed so much about myself . . . and each tidbit only brings us closer. We spend hours making love, and then just as many talking. His brain turns me on almost as much as his amazing body. Actually, his mind probably is the sexiest part of him, but I won’t tell him that or he might withhold his body from me as punishment. And I don’t want that because I want him. Body, mind, and soul.
I’ll be honest. It may be fast, but I think I’ve fallen in love with him.
I’m his. Totally.
The thought is on repeat in my head as I head toward the math building, looking forward to my class with Connor. It seems strange to still be thinking about our first night now that we’ve been together for a few weeks, but that night was perfect and started a string of perfect days that hasn’t stopped since.
It’s just hard to believe that I lost my virginity to my professor. But he’s more than that, and after the past weeks of our getting together every opportunity we can, of texting and chatting when we can’t, I’m reassured that I am more than a conquest to him, that this is something else.
The experience has been beyond exciting, beyond exhilarating for both of us, it seems, from how he acts. I told him that since our first night, every pleasure sensor in my body has come alive, and I notice the little things more than ever. I’m aware of the swaying wideness of my hips and the way the air caresses my skin. Even the needy ache in my core reminds me of how he makes me come so hard, over and over again. Even now, I feel like every time is a new adventure, one I’ll never get tired of.
The only bad part is my hunger for Connor, for the way his eyes look as we talk about the little things, for the way his eyes bore into me as he pounds his amazing cock inside me. I want him, need him with a fiery intensity, a deep, primal need to explore just who and what we can be together.
I’m so engaged in my fantasy, not even paying attention as I walk along the path to class, that it takes me a moment to realize someone’s calling my name. “Daisy!”
I turn and see Arianna approaching me, a look of wonder on her face. “Oh, hi, Ari. Sorry, I was daydreaming. I missed you this morning.”
“Must be fantasizing about a special someone,” she says, smirking. “For the past few weeks, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look so happy.”
“No, it’s not that,” I quickly lie. “I’m just feeling good about my classes. Things are ramping up well for finals. If I can keep it up, my early slip shouldn’t matter.”
“Really?” she says, sighing. “That’s all it is? Because I’ve noticed your late-night ‘study sessions’ and weekend sleepovers with ‘a friend’. I’m not stupid, Daisy.” I can tell that I’ve hurt her with my secrecy and silence. She knows something’s going on, and usually, I tell her everything, but not this. I can’t.
“I’m sorry, Ari. I am seeing someone, but I’m not ready to talk about it. I can’t. Please understand, chica.” I beg her to not press this, knowing it could cause problems. My first loyalty is to Connor now, and I won’t put him at jeopardy over a need to share with my best friend.
She smiles sweetly. “Okay, I’ll leave it be on one condition.” I nod, and she continues, �
��Does he make you happy?”
I don’t even try to restrain my huge smile. “So happy, Ari.” My voice is high and light, the buzz of happiness filling me and apparent.
“All right, then, I’m here when you’re ready to dish all the good stuff. As long as he’s not some old geezer professor, married, and with bad breath, who likes to listen to the sound of his own voice.” She’s teasing, but I flinch a bit when she says professor. None of the rest of her description fits Connor at all, but that one is dangerously close to the truth, and I need to redirect her to safer territory.
“Definitely not. What about you? I have been gone a lot lately, so I feel like I don’t know what’s going on with you either. Classes? Internship? Spill it, girl!”
She takes the bait, and we dissolve into a catch-up session of epic proportions as we walk the sidewalks to our classes, enjoying the sunshine and the company. I have missed her these last few weeks as my focus has been locked onto Connor. It’s not a bad thing, just the excitement of something new, and he definitely takes up all the space in my head and my heart.
“So I should be good on all my classes, just finals to worry about mostly. And I finally heard back from Morgan, and I start there soon,” Ari tells me, excitement obvious as she dances around. See? I think. She’s excited about something new too. We’re all good. Just part of growing up and apart a bit as our paths wind and diverge and reconnect.
“I’m so glad, girl. You’re gonna ace your tests and impress the hell out of them at Morgan. I’m good on tests too. I’ve got an A-minus in Professor Daniels’s class now, so unless I bomb the final, I should have a solid B-plus or better final grade. I’m more worried about American History at this point. I have an A, but the test is all essay, no multiple-choice, and a bad grade there can tank the whole semester.”
We get to the division point in our paths, Ari needing to go left to the business building and me needing to head right to math.
The Virgin Diaries: The Complete Series Page 7
