by Sandy Lowe
Kerry’s brain was short-circuiting. She wanted nothing more than to push Sasha down to the tabletop and bury two fingers inside her, but the shrill voice of logic held her back.
“How much time do we have?”
“As much as we want.”
Sasha wrapped her legs around the backs of Kerry’s thighs and tugged, pulling her pelvis flush with the edge of the table. The delicious pressure sent desire arrowing through her, and she shivered in its thrall.
“How did you—” Kerry couldn’t think, nor could she stop herself from grinding shamelessly against the source of the friction. Sasha’s breasts filled her vision, begging for her touch. She wanted so badly to give in to her need. “What—”
“Today is our third anniversary.”
The words startled Kerry enough that she raised her eyes to Sasha’s. How could it be their third anniversary when they had only been married for a matter of months?
Sasha traced Kerry’s cheekbones with her thumbs. “Three years ago, in a childish fit of rebelliousness, I skipped an engagement with the Rhodes Trust to go dancing at a new club. But fate intervened and brought you to me despite my stupidity.”
Comprehension dawned. Kerry would never forget that first, incendiary kiss they had shared in a back room at Summa, but she hadn’t realized that Sasha regarded it as a watershed moment—nor had she considered its fragility.
“I didn’t want to go out that night,” she said slowly, reliving it in her memory. “Harris had to persuade me to be social.” She tightened her grip on Sasha’s waist, anchoring herself against a wave of dread. “I’ve never thought about how close we came to never meeting. That’s terrifying.”
“It is.” Sasha leaned in to kiss one corner of her mouth and then the other. “But look at us now—how far we’ve come.” Her full lips curved in a mischievous smile. “Not to mention how many times.”
The knot of tension in Kerry’s chest dissolved with her laughter. “And you’re here to add to that running total?”
Sasha’s eyes darkened. “I’m here to finish what we started three years ago.” She ran her fingers through Kerry’s hair before tugging lightly. “I love you. I always will. But that night wasn’t about love—it was about lust. We were interrupted then, but no one will interrupt us now.” She moistened her lips in clear anticipation. “So relax. I’ve taken care of everything. And now I’m going to take care of you.”
With a shuddering sigh, Kerry abandoned her lingering anxieties. She raised her hands to cup Sasha’s breasts, glorying in the incomparable softness of her skin and the swift tightening of her nipples. When Sasha threw her head back and moaned, Kerry rolled both nipples between her fingers. Sasha’s hips bucked.
“Lie down.” Kerry freed one hand to push gently against Sasha’s chest. “Let me have you.”
Sasha’s eyes snapped open. “No.” She sat up and grasped Kerry’s wrist. “I said I would take care of you, and I meant it. Now unbutton your shirt.”
“But—”
“Don’t even think of arguing.” Sasha’s hands went to work on her belt buckle, but her eyes remained locked with Kerry’s. “You are going to get naked, and then you are going to take my place on this table. And then I am going to fulfill one of my fantasies.”
“Y-you are?” Kerry could hardly muster enough breath to stammer. Usually, their lovemaking was a sensual battle of equals, but right now, Sasha was demanding everything she had to give. Never had Kerry wanted to surrender so wholeheartedly.
Sasha glared up at her in the act of drawing down the zipper. “Take. Off. Your. Shirt.”
Kerry fumbled with the buttons and cursed when her right sleeve caught on her watch. By the time the shirt fell to the floor, Sasha had pushed Kerry’s pants below her knees. Kerry steadied herself against the table as Sasha nipped at the elastic band of her underwear, and when Sasha suddenly pressed her lips against the thin fabric at the apex of her thighs, Kerry groaned in pleasure.
“I can feel how swollen you are.” Sasha rubbed two fingers against the damp swatch where her mouth had been. “And how wet.”
“For you,” Kerry choked out.
“That’s right.” Sasha hooked two fingers in the fabric and pulled until Kerry was standing in a pool of her own clothing. “Now, sit.”
Kerry boosted herself onto the table and watched in dizzy fascination as Sasha made quick work of her shoes. Once Kerry was naked from the waist down, Sasha ran her hands up Kerry’s legs, lingering on her thighs to massage the muscles there, sliding her thumbs dangerously close to the heart of Kerry’s ache.
“Oh, please.” Kerry didn’t want to be reduced to begging already, but she simply couldn’t help herself.
Instead of obliging her, Sasha stood. Her expression was smug, but Kerry could sense the tenderness beneath it. “You can be as impatient as you like, but this isn’t going to be quick.” Sasha reached out to toy with the straps of Kerry’s bra. “Hands over your head, now.”
Sasha took her sweet time pushing the fabric up and over Kerry’s breasts and nibbling at each inch of skin she exposed. Fireworks burst beneath Kerry’s skin at each scrape of Sasha’s teeth. When she bit down gently on one nipple, a cry escaped Kerry’s lips before she could clamp them together.
Sasha pulled away, looking extremely self-satisfied. “You don’t have to be quiet,” she said as she pushed Kerry’s legs up and apart until her heels touched the tabletop. “The guard at the front is under strict instructions to wear earplugs.”
Before Kerry could even attempt to form a response, Sasha dropped to one knee. Spellbound, Kerry watched as Sasha spread her open with gentle fingers, and she shivered as the cool air washed over her exposed sex. Her reaction brought an exultant smile to Sasha’s lips.
“Keep your eyes open for as long as you can,” she murmured, each puff of breath a teasing caress.
And then she leaned forward to touch the very tip of her tongue to Kerry’s clitoris in a kiss as light as it was tantalizing. Kerry’s eyes slammed shut as her body surged, instinctively trying to get closer. But Sasha’s grip was unyielding. Again and again, she brought her mouth to Kerry in a series of delicate touches expertly designed to make her go insane. Kerry flung one arm over her eyes and clutched desperately at the table’s edge with her other hand. Pleasure coiled in her abdomen, ready to spring, and she groaned with the effort to rein it in.
“Sash—I…I c-can’t…”
When Sasha closed her lips around her and sucked, electricity jolted down Kerry’s spine and she cried out again. She clenched deep inside, teetering on the precipice of ecstasy…but the next stroke of Sasha’s tongue never came. Quite suddenly, she was gone.
Kerry reached for her and found only empty space. Her eyes snapped open, but the world was out of focus. Her heart clattered against her ribs in a sudden surge of panic—
“You’re so beautiful.” Sasha’s voice was accompanied by the warm pressure of her palm between Kerry’s breasts. “So desirable. So mine.”
Kerry’s vision cleared on a powerful wave of relief, just in time to watch Sasha kneel on the table between her legs, breasts swaying in the grip of gravity. But when Kerry tried to sit up, the princess’s firm hand held her down.
“You’re exactly where I want you.” Sasha punctuated her words by bringing the index and middle fingers of her free hand to Kerry’s mouth. “Suck.”
Kerry obeyed gladly, hollowing her lips around Sasha’s fingers as she let her tongue dance across the tips. All she could think about was just how incredible Sasha would feel inside her, and she did everything possible to convey the magnitude of her need. When Sasha’s hips rocked restlessly against her, Kerry knew she had succeeded.
“Stop.” Despite her obvious arousal, the syllable didn’t tremble. Sasha held up her hand between them, wet fingers glistening in the muted light of the Bodleian’s lamps. “I’m going to fuck you now.”
Kerry wanted to watch, but her muscles turned to jelly at the first touch. Sasha pushed insi
de slowly, filling her one fraction of an inch at a time, insistently working her way deeper and deeper. Kerry could only gasp for breath as a powerful jolt of pleasure rippled through her.
“I love how you feel inside.” As she spoke, Sasha began to withdraw, almost as slowly as she had entered. “So hot. So tight. So responsive.”
“Don’t go,” Kerry said hoarsely, struggling to raise her head enough to meet Sasha’s gaze. She tried to close her legs to hold Sasha in place, but Sasha stopped her with a sharp slap to her stomach.
“Don’t you dare.” She brought her nails into play, drawing fiery lines down Kerry’s abdomen. The sweet pain only amplified her pleasure, and her head fell back against the table. “Keep your legs spread, Your Grace. I want you open and vulnerable.”
Kerry’s strangled laugh became a gasp as Sasha filled her again, swiftly this time. Heat blossomed beneath her skin and she became molten around Sasha’s fingers, her fluttering muscles offering their own silent plea.
“Oh, you just got so wet.” Sasha’s voice was taut in triumph, and she began to move in earnest now, fucking her with deep, rhythmic strokes that ignited a sharp ache in Kerry’s belly.
When Sasha began to curl her fingers at the apex of every stroke, Kerry dug her nails into the wooden tabletop in an effort to anchor herself to reality and stave off the rising tide of her climax.
“You. Are. Mine.” Sasha punctuated each word with a sharp thrust. “You are always mine. Wherever you are, every moment of every day. You. Are. Mine.”
The pressure was unbearable, and Kerry’s thighs began to tremble. “Yours,” she managed to choke out.
Sasha brushed her thumb against Kerry’s clit and hummed in approval when Kerry’s head thrashed. The last shreds of control were inexorably slipping away, like a star on the razor’s edge of supernova.
“Say it again.” Sasha’s voice was low and hypnotic, weaving a spell between them. Every movement of her hand tightened the knot of Kerry’s desire.
“Yours.”
“Again,” Sasha demanded. “Promise me.”
As Kerry gasped for the breath to speak, Sasha thrust hard, hooking her fingers deep inside the embrace of Kerry’s body as she rubbed firm circles against her clit. Light and heat fused in a glorious conflagration, and Kerry half screamed, half sobbed that final “Yours” as her body convulsed in the grip of ecstasy so intense it bordered on agony.
Sasha held her down and fucked her through the eye of the firestorm, pushing Kerry from one orgasm to the next until she had wrung every last ounce of sensation from her trembling body. When Kerry’s muscles finally slackened, Sasha gently withdrew and bent to cover her face with kisses.
“I love your passion,” she whispered as she smoothed the damp hair from Kerry’s brow. “I love your intensity. I love you, Kerry.”
Kerry had nearly slipped into unconsciousness, but she still registered Sasha’s solicitous touches and heard the quiver of need in her voice. Need. Sasha needed her. But when she tried to raise one arm to embrace her, Kerry found she could barely move a finger. And when she tried to speak, her throat was raw from the abrasive force of her own screams.
She swallowed hard and tried again. “Sasha.”
“Hmm?” When Sasha’s lips met hers, Kerry tasted herself. Epiphany struck, galvanizing her into action. It took every bit of strength she had to raise both hands and cup Sasha’s face, but she finally managed to create just enough distance between them for her to speak.
Sasha was frowning at having been interrupted. “What—”
“Sit on my face.”
Darkness swallowed Sasha’s emerald irises like an eclipse, and her tongue darted out to wet her lips. She might be speechless, but the fine tremor of her fingers against Kerry’s stomach was all the answer Kerry needed.
“Now. Please.” Kerry moved one hand to Sasha’s hip, urging her up. “I need you.”
As Sasha settled above her, Kerry wrapped both arms around her thighs. The rapid rise and fall of her breasts was mesmerizing, but Kerry forced herself to look past them and meet Sasha’s gaze.
“Go slowly.” Sasha’s voice trembled.
Her obvious desire was intoxicating, and Kerry’s exhaustion burned away on a surge of adrenaline. “As my lady wishes,” she said, before pulling Sasha down.
She was deliciously wet, and Kerry took great delight in licking up all the evidence of Sasha’s arousal before focusing in on the swollen bundle of nerves that was the focal point of her desire. Kerry tongued it lightly for several minutes, constantly varying her rhythm to deny Sasha the build-up she required for release. The longer Kerry teased her, the more urgent Sasha’s movements became, until she was clutching at Kerry’s hair and grinding against her mouth.
Kerry couldn’t get enough, but neither could she stand to wait any longer to feel Sasha come apart above her. After tightening her grip on Sasha’s legs, she sucked lightly on Sasha’s clitoris even as she continued the flickering motion of her tongue.
“Fuck!” Sasha’s interjection was accompanied by a tug on Kerry’s hair so sharp it brought tears to her eyes. Kerry didn’t mind one bit. Sasha was finally starting to lose control. Her muffled curses quickly gave way to an inarticulate keening, inspiring Kerry to increase the pressure of her lips. Sasha writhed frantically against her before releasing a thin wail and falling forward, her back arching like a bow over Kerry’s head as her body shook in the throes of climax.
Kerry stroked her thighs as she coaxed out each aftershock. When Sasha went limp, Kerry eased her down to the tabletop and held her close, cradling Sasha’s head in the dip between her shoulder and collarbone. As the minutes passed, Kerry could feel their heartbeats and breaths synchronize. Above her, the gold lettering on the Oxford crests twinkled like constellations. Dominus illuminatio mea. She would never glimpse it again without thinking of this moment.
“What are you thinking?” Sasha murmured sleepily.
“That you are my light.”
Sasha blinked adorably in confusion. “Your light?”
Kerry gestured toward the ceiling. “My comfort. My inspiration. The spark of my desire.” Suddenly, she laughed.
“What?” Sasha pulled away to regard her suspiciously. “What’s so funny about that?”
“I’m just remembering the oath I had to take when I first received my library card.”
Sasha’s frown deepened. “Remind me. I’m sure I had one, back in my undergraduate days, but I didn’t set foot here very often.”
Kerry tried to remember the exact language. “It’s a translation of Latin, I think. Something about promising not to bring into the library or kindle therein any fire or flame.” She caressed one corner of Sasha’s mouth with her thumb. “The way you made love to me…I thought I might spontaneously combust.”
Sasha propped up her head on one elbow. “That spark has always been at the heart of us—from that very first night, three years ago.”
“Yes. I love that. I need that.”
“I do, too.” Sasha inched closer and slid one leg between Kerry’s to rejoin their bodies. “Our life is going to change now that you have your position here.”
Kerry felt a pang of uncertainty. “Do you wish I hadn’t—”
“Shh. Don’t jump to conclusions.” She grasped Kerry’s chin to hold her gaze. “You’re going to be a brilliant teacher. Oxford is lucky to have you.” Her eyes narrowed. “But you’re mine before you’re theirs. That’s what tonight is about. Even when you’re here late, working—even when I’m in another time zone or on another continent, working—I need you to remember that.”
“Sasha.” Kerry bridged the space between them to press their foreheads together. “I meant what I said in the heat of the moment. Yours. I promise I’m always yours.”
Study Buddies
Carsen Taite
I’d never, ever gotten a B. I stared at the page, willing the letter to morph into the acceptable, but knowing the nausea of reality wasn’t going away anytime soon.
Straight-A Annie. I took pride in the name even though I knew my undergrad roommates had only called me that to get under my skin. Determined to keep my streak in law school, I’d spent the first week of classes scouting out the 1L’s with perfect pedigrees. Harvard, Yale, Princeton. Serious, dedicated, smart. Everyone knew that being in the best study group was the only way to ensure success, and I’d picked four like-minded souls to run with me to first place.
But the number of Bs on my grade report was all the evidence I needed to prove that I’d chosen poorly. The members of my study group were loaded with smarts, but completely unfocused—more interested in booze than books. Unlike me, they didn’t need to graduate top of their class since their families were captains of industry, retail, and investment.
Now the second semester was about to start and I’d spend it digging out from under, determined to go it alone rather than risk my future with a bunch of legacies who were guaranteed a bright future because it was their birthright. I slid into my seat and scanned my notes, trying to settle my stomach as the crotchety Torts professor took the podium and selected his first victim.
“Ms. Ardmore, please give us the facts of Palsgraf v. Long Island Railroad.”
Damn. I hate professors who go in alphabetical order, but I’d read the seminal case twenty times the night before, so I took a deep breath and rattled out the key facts. He didn’t even bother acknowledging how well I did before he started firing off questions about proximate cause and duty. By the time he moved on to his next victim, the whole experience was a blur. The Bs in my pocket had undermined my self-confidence, and I couldn’t assess whether I’d held my own or sounded as foolish as my inner voice assured me I had.
When class was finally over I strode quickly out of the room, not wanting to run into any of the members of my previous study group. It was best if we made a clean break of it. As I reached the door I saw, out of the corner of my eye, someone pointing at me, and I turned to see Lila Swanson and her study buddy, Diane Wilson. Their heads were close together and they were whispering and smiling and not even trying to hide the fact I was the subject of their discussion.
