by London Hale
On a particularly strong rub, I had to stop and press her into the wall. Had to take over for a couple of seconds. “Do you have any idea the things I want to do to you?”
Her head fell back and she bit her lip as I thrust against her. “Not yet, but I’d love to hear them.”
“I’m not one for speeches, princess.” I yanked her away from the wall and headed straight for one of the back rooms. The third door from the end was a large space with a pool table in the middle of it. The only windows were high along the ceiling, and there were no lights other than what spilled in from the hallway. Perfect. “We were supposed to get a drink tonight.”
“We still can.”
“I don’t think so.”
Sam huffed when I set her on the edge of the table, though that irritation turned to something else as I pushed her back and crawled over top of her. Needy little thing.
“I’m old enough, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“What if I’m thirsty now?”
Her hands came up to my shoulders, her legs spreading around my hips as I pressed her down. “What do you mean?”
I slid along the length of her, nibbling down her chest and tugging off her pants. We were not going to take things slow, Sam and me. No fucking way could I unless she told me to. So far, everything about her told me to get to it. And I was a man who took direction well.
As I slipped my hands around her hips to pull her ass farther up the table, I asked, “What if I want a taste of something now?”
She giggled, spreading her bare legs. Putting herself on display for me. “I’d say go for it.”
“You misunderstand me, Sam. I’m not a fan of no participation.”
Her head popped up, her eyes confused as they met mine. “What?”
But I wasn’t in the mood for talking. Instead, I rolled us over, lining her up so she kneeled over my face. Her pussy was mere inches from my mouth while my hands bracketed her thighs and spread her legs even as she trembled at my touch. Fucking perfect.
Sam fell forward, placing both hands on the green felt above my head. “Elliott, what are you—”
I growled and pulled her legs wider, already lost. I could make out the swell of her pale tits under her sweatshirt, could see every inch of her pussy in front of me. But nothing about the view could compare to my name on her lips.
“Say it again.” I ran my nose along her slit, teasing her. Staying away from her clit for the moment as I savored the thought of what was to come. “Say my name again, Sam.”
She gasped, her breath catching for a beat before she whispered, “Elliott.”
Fucking poetry. “That’s it. I want to keep hearing it.” I gave her a swipe of my tongue, groaning as her flavor passed over it. “You’ve called me Dean for months. I need to hear my name on your lips.”
“Okay, but you should know this is new for me.”
“What is? Someone licking your pussy or riding someone’s face?”
“Both?” Her voice was breathy, her hips twitching as she seemed to be torn between pulling away and sitting right down for the ride. I hoped she picked the latter. “I mean, I’ve tried it…once—the licking, not the sitting. It wasn’t great…”
Oh, the poor girl. “Sit up for me, princess. Let me show you how a real man eats pussy.”
She pushed up, almost timid at first. That was okay—timid but willing was fine. If she’d given me any sign she wasn’t ready for this or didn’t want it, I’d have stopped. Instead, she egged me on with soft gasps and moans as I licked her cautiously, as I gave her time to adjust to being so bare before me. So exposed. I’d take her mind off of all that, though. I ran my nose over her clit and lapped at her pussy, still teasing. Unable not to. Needing every drop of her, every sound. Every reaction so I knew how to please her.
“Oh yes, Elliott,” she said, groaning long and loud.
I spread her lips and licked up under her hood. She rocked softly at first, gaining speed as I attacked her clit with my tongue, stroking it hard and fast while I kept pressure on her thighs to hold her legs still. She moved more, swiveling her hips to get what she wanted, taking a little control from me with every pass.
Once I had her focusing on her pleasure instead of the logistics of how she was getting it, I slipped a hand around her hip and between her legs from behind. My thumb pressed against her asshole as I bent my wrist to reach past it. As I angled my fingers to slide deep inside her.
“Oh God,” she said, one hand sliding up under her sweatshirt to grab her tit. The fabric went with her, exposing more of her skin to me. Showing me more places I wanted to lick and bite. But not yet. First, I needed to finish what I’d started.
“You like this?” I asked, wrapping my lips around her clit to give it a suck while thrusting my fingers deeper.
“Fuck, yes.” She hissed and dropped her head back, rolling her hips. Seeking more. Making me want to fuck her right then and there. If only…
“I want to feel you come, Sam,” I finally said, needing to distract myself from thoughts of her pussy taking my cock the way it took my fingers. “Want to taste it. I want you to soak me.” I pressed my fingers deep, making sure to suckle her clit at the same time. There was no way I could draw this out. No way to take my time. I needed to fuck her with my tongue and fingers, to get her off before anyone realized we were missing. I’d handle my own needs later—there was no way I was letting her out of the boathouse without making her come.
“I’m so close.” She grabbed my hair, riding me hard. Bumping my head into the table in a way that only made me want more. Only made my hips buck with the need for some sort of attention to my cock. Someday, I was going to fuck her. I was going to slide deep inside Sam’s tight, hot pussy and push her right over the edge with me. I dreamed of it, needed it.
But first…
“Want you to come,” I mumbled against her clit as I kept a teasing pressure against her asshole. “Want to taste every fucking drop of it. Ride my face, princess. Show me how good I make you feel.”
She shook and moaned, throwing her head back and gripping her tit as her thighs began to quake. She was close. My cock was hard as stone, the tip wet from leaking precome, but I didn’t break for a second to adjust it. Fuck that. I had Sam’s pussy on my lips, her walls milking my fingers, and her asshole underneath my thumb. She was mine in that moment—every inch. I just had to show her where to go. Just had to get her to that spot where she was safe to fall.
Needing to see it so bad I couldn’t stand to wait another second, I flattened my tongue against her and licked her clit hard, pulling it between my lips and squeezing closed around it. Sam came with a moan, her entire body locking down, her hands yanking my face against her from where they clutched my hair. It hurt, but the pain felt good, felt right. That was my girl—my Sam—taking her pleasure from me. How could any part of it be bad?
It took her several minutes to come down, though me continuing to lick and press and fuck her with my fingers probably dragged that out. I couldn’t help myself—I wanted everything from her. Wanted her weak and sated from my touch. I wanted to know I’d done everything I could to satisfy my girl, and I always got what I wanted.
“Fuck, Elliott.” Sam smacked her hand down on the table when she was finally ready to push me away, lifting off as she grinned down at me. “That was…amazing.”
I chuckled and rolled to my side, loving how casual she was. And how mine. Because she was mine, and she would be always. I’d make damn sure of it.
But the reality of our situation crept in like a fog, or like the noise from the party going on just a few yards away on the other side of the wall. The party thrown by a man who was definitely one of my bosses…and Sam’s father. A man who could destroy my career in a heartbeat if he chose to.
“While I love the words fuck and Elliott together, I think we need to be done here.”
Sam’s face fell, her shoulders stiffening. Fuck, how badly had I just screwed up?
“You’re kidding, right?”
Yeah, that sounded like the answer was really, really badly. I ran my palm up her thigh, needing to touch. Wanting to keep her connected to me any way I could. “There’s a party going on. My bosses, your father and friends, will be looking for us eventually. We should pull ourselves together and head back out there before anyone comes looking.”
Her huff seemed petulant. “Fine.”
I kissed her knee, letting my hand wander back between her legs. Her eyes looked damn near black with desire as I stared into them, as I traced her pussy with one finger simply to tease. “What am I going to do with you, Samantha Monroe?”
She leaned in, pressing the softest, sweetest kiss to my lips. “You’re going to take me home and fuck me until I can’t walk. But not tonight.”
My sigh felt endless. “No, not tonight.”
She dressed quietly as our hands wandered and our lips met in the dark. The party was in full swing outside, the sounds of guests talking and laughing reaching us through the closed windows. I had no interest in any of it.
“Samantha,” I whispered just before she left our little room away from the world. “This is going to be—”
“I know.” She gave me a smile over her shoulder and shrugged even though she didn’t know. She had no idea how difficult this could get. “Come on, Dean Goodridge. Your students are waiting for you.”
We headed toward the door silently, slowly. Neither of us in an obvious hurry to leave. Before we reached the main room of the boathouse, I snuck into the bathroom just long enough to wash my hands. I caught my reflection in the mirror—bright eyes, wild hair, and a grin I couldn’t hold back. My chin was a little red, my lips a little swollen. All from Sam. My girl…who I couldn’t walk outside with without worrying about the reaction from others. Whose presence in my life could destroy everything I’d been working for since high school.
Fuck.
I smoothed my wild hair, hating every second of it. Wanting the world to see that obviously sex-mussed mess. To know the woman at my side had demanded my actions by grabbing it. But I couldn’t be Sam’s Elliott, not yet. I had to be the dean, and that meant not having intimate relations with students.
She was going to hate me for what I had to do.
When I rejoined Sam, I met her with a strong, deep kiss. Because I still could, at least for a few more minutes. “I want your phone number.”
“Demanding, aren’t you?”
“Yes, but if I can’t fuck you later, the least I can do is talk to you.”
She smirked but took my phone, tapping the screen to enter her info. “No one talks on their phones anymore.”
“I do.” When she was finished, I tucked my phone back in my pocket and gave her ass a little pat. “Let’s go, princess.”
“I hate it when you call me that.”
Lies. “You grabbed my hair and demanded I tongue-fuck you when I called you that.”
“Only to shut you up.”
“Feel free to shut me up another time.” If you’re still willing to even speak to me, I didn’t add out loud.
She reached the door before me, swinging it wide and letting in the cool, night breeze off the water. And the noise. I caught the door before it closed and ushered her outside, dread filling my gut like a lead ball.
We hadn’t walked ten yards when Charles came rushing over, champagne flute in hand. “There you two are. I was beginning to worry.”
As he should have. “We had a nice conversation about the sailing team, their needs, and the future of the program at Temperance Falls College. I apologize for taking so long, but your daughter was quite eloquent and impassioned.”
Sam stared at me, her eyes a little too wide. Her expression a little too shocked. Meanwhile Charles was puffing up over the praise of his child.
“I’m glad you two had time to chat,” he said, throwing an arm around Sam’s shoulders. “Now how about we get something to eat? You must be starving.”
“Actually, I need to tend to something that’s come up. But please, don’t wait for me.”
Sam’s shock turned to confusion, but there was nothing I could say. Nothing I could do to make this easier. If we were found out to be having intimate relations, we could both be kicked out of Temperance Falls College. That would destroy the career I’d built and kill any chance of her graduating with her friends. I needed to stay away from her, and that started now.
Charles and Sam wandered up the hill toward the marina clubhouse, so I slipped off into the shadows. As I headed for my car, I freed my phone from my pocket and pulled up Sam’s info. One text. That was all I would send. If I let myself think I could keep in contact with her, we’d be caught for sure. There was no way I could hide my attraction for the girl. Not anymore. But if she could give me a few months, give herself time to graduate and the rest of the island to “forget” I’d been her dean so we could distance our connection from the school, we could make this work.
If she’d ever forgive me.
I’m sorry. I can’t do this right now.
I hated ending things over text, but I refused to lead her on. I refused to hide the reality of our situation from her. Message sent, I found the stairs and headed up them. Time to go home, alone.
Chapter Four
Sam
The month before the end of the school year was always crazy for any college student. But the month before graduation? It was a tsunami of activities, everything culminating at once. I was being pulled in a thousand different directions—classes and finals and meetings for student council and preparing the sailing team for my departure. Between school and my job at Bundt and Grind, I shouldn’t have had time to do anything but what was expected of me before face-planting into my pillow at night. I should’ve been focusing on my future, on graduating and moving out into the real world.
Instead, I thought about him.
I spent my shifts at the coffee shop waiting for Elliott and hating myself for it. From the moment I went in until the moment I left, I watched the door, both hoping and dreading he would walk through. Turned out I hadn’t needed to worry, because since the night in the boathouse, he hadn’t come into Bundt and Grind. Not once.
And when I wasn’t at the coffee shop? My thoughts were consumed by that goddamn text. The first one he’d sent that’d tipped over the rest of the dominos and had left me aching from the hottest orgasm of my life with nothing to sate this need except my own fingers.
When Elliott had texted he was sorry and he couldn’t see me, I’d assumed he’d meant that evening. I’d texted back, flirty and cute—which just made me cringe now as I thought back on it—saying I could wait a day. Then he’d spouted off about needing to stay away from each other for months. Until graduation and well after, so his bosses—my dad—wouldn’t get the wrong idea. The wrong idea, like the fact that he already knew exactly what I tasted like.
September, he’d said. We could talk again in September.
It would’ve been great if he could’ve come to that conclusion before he’d been tongue-deep in my pussy. So now it was radio silence on his end, and I’d followed suit. He may have been the hottest man I’d ever seen and had given me the best orgasm of my life, but I’d be damned if I went begging for it.
“Sam.” Lucy snapped her fingers in front of my face.
“What?” I asked, finally focusing on her.
With a laugh, she shook her head. “You’ve been zoned out for, like, five minutes. And that poor grass.” She pointed to the space in front of my crossed legs.
Immediately, I stopped tugging on the blades, letting the green pieces I’d torn fall through my fingers. “Sorry, what did you say?”
“Just complaining about work. The usual. But what’s with the grass massacre? Stressed?”
That would make the most sense, considering everything currently on my plate. With only the briefest hesitation, I nodded. It wasn’t like I could tell her I’d ridden Dean Goodridge’s face last week in my parents’ bo
athouse and had come all over his tongue. Lucy was my best friend, but I wasn’t dumb enough to whisper a word about anything that’d happened between Elliott and me, not even to her. Not with the consequences that could be brought down on both of us if word ever got out—consequences like him out of a job and some of my credits questioned or even denied.
“Yeah,” I said. “Just a lot to do before graduation.”
“Have you figured out—”
“Heads up!” a deep voice called a moment before a football fell a couple feet to our left, then bounced toward us.
I reached out and stopped it, glancing up in time to see a guy running toward us. It only took a second to realize it was Matt, football player, one of the senior representatives for student council, and son of my parents’ closest friends.
“Oh shit,” Lucy whispered. “Seth is with him. Stall.”
He was also best friend to Lucy’s current crush.
Fortunately I could stall with the best of them, and I talked Matt’s ear off until Seth finally came over to find out what the holdup was. The rest was up to Lucy. Though from the look of things, she was doing just fine. Both guys were seated next to us on the grass, and she had one hundred percent of Seth’s attention while Matt talked my ear off about an internship he’d scored at the main marketing firm on the island.
It was a beautiful day, warmer than usual, which meant the quad was busy. I was half paying attention to what he was saying—marketing talk was boring as hell—and half scanning the crowd around us.
“—but it’s good to get my foot in the door, you know?” Matt said.
I nodded, turning to look toward him with a smile, when something caught my eye. Twenty feet away, wearing a dark red button-up shirt in a sea of black, stood Elliott, frozen with one foot on the concrete steps in front of the administrative building. Before I could tell myself to look away, to ignore the pull in my belly and focus on what Matt was saying, I let my eyes do a sweep of him, up that impressive body I hadn’t been able to see enough of, and ending on that beautiful face.
