Teach Me Sweetly

by Abby Gale

  I’m in complete awe of her. “How long have you been doing this?”

  “Close to two years.” She shrugs, like it’s not a big deal. She doesn’t even know how amazing she is.

  I caress her cheek before I can stop myself. I don't know if she realizes doing it, but she leans into my touch, warming my heart even more. Our faces are close to each other and at that moment she's just herself. No mask. No worries. Just her, and her beautiful heart that helps all these people. I lean down, so our lips touch. Not a real kiss, just a simple caress. It just felt so right and I believed I'll turn to ashes if I didn't.

  “Thank you for inviting me here,” I whisper.

  She softly touches our lips together once more and whispers, “Thanks for coming with me.”

  I've seen how people treated Eva at her school. I've heard some of the words they call her when she passed them by. Hell, I've even listened to what the headmaster thinks about her.

  I’ve witnessed her pain and suffering. I’ve seen a glimpse of her mind which is filled with so much sadness.

  But she’s still here. She still has hope in humanity. And she still wants to help them.

  Evangeline Faye is a rare gem with a pure heart, and she's so beautiful inside and out it's hard not to fall for her.

  On the drive back home, my body is throbbing with something I can’t really explain. It’s different from the lust I’ve been feeling since the first time I saw her. Like something has shifted today. Seeing her in that place, helping those in need touched something deep inside me.

  Her smile was big and genuine, lighting up her whole existence, and I wanted nothing more than to keep that smile there.

  I take my eye off the road for a second to look at her. And she’s already gazing at me. Her eyes are bright and alive. When her lips curl in a shy smile, my heart gallops in my chest. Every nerve ending in my body sizzles with something… something I can’t name. Something so intense it takes my breath away.

  I want to park on the side of the road and pull her on my lap so I can devour her. I want to kiss her lips, suck in the sounds she’d make. I want to capture her taste and put it in a bottle only I can taste. But I don’t want these things just for a quick release. No. I want to be close to her. I want to worm myself inside her to feel her. Really feel her. I don’t want our bodies to join, I want our souls to entwine. The need is so overwhelming I feel like I’m gonna combust if I don’t touch her. Before stopping myself, I reach for her hand and link our fingers.

  Her soft gasp sends a shiver through my body, and I feel high. She's so much stronger than any drug or booze I can consume.

  “Come here,” I say huskily, pulling her toward me.

  She doesn’t hesitate even though I can feel her shock. Curling her legs under her, she leans to my body and rests her head on my shoulder.

  I tighten my arm around her, and she tentatively places her hand on my chest. My chest vibrates with a growl just from her simple touch and possessiveness fills all my senses.

  I kiss her forehead, inhaling her sweet scent. And peace fills me.

  And I notice I’ve never done this before. Never hug a woman to me just to feel close to her without trying to feel her up. I’ve never enjoyed a woman’s head on my chest or the feeling of her hand against my heartbeat.

  Such small, innocent things that used to mean nothing to me now feels like an anchor that keeps me from floating away.

  I was screwed when all I could think of was fucking this beautiful woman who is curled up next to me. But I’m beyond screwed now that all I want is for her to stay where she is. In my arms.

  17

  Eva

  My days turn into another routine. Every morning I wake up before my alarm, watch Elijah swim and let him turn me on beyond description. We have breakfast together, and he gives me a ride to and from school. He encourages me to talk during his classes and even though I was hesitant at first, I got more comfortable. But my favorite time is having dinner with him. The way he looks at me, the way he talks to me, and how our bodies move closer and closer with time. It's both torture and pleasure. After dinner, we go to The Sanctuary in the West and spend time there.

  I have been the happiest in the last week, and even though I don't want to hope for things that won't come true, Elijah and I were so much closer than I've ever been with anyone. It feels so good to be in his arms as we drive from the West Town back home every night. I love the way he plays with my hair or kisses my forehead. I love how those small touches from him light up my whole body. I burn every time he gives me one of his barely-there kisses. I want more. So much more.

  Every touch, every whisper of a kiss, every look we exchange is like a promising trailer to a divine movie.

  Anticipation is like a drug, and I couldn't wait to experience the high of my next Elijah hit.

  It’s hard to think of him as my teacher while we’re acting more like a young couple trying to get to know each other before taking another step in their relationships.

  Today, when I woke up at dawn I jumped out of my bed even though it is the weekend, with the excitement of a new day.

  Honestly, it’s actually the excitement of seeing him.

  But instead of heading for the window to watch him, I pull out my swimming suit from deep inside my closet. Without giving it a second thought, I slip it on and cover myself with a t-shirt that falls to my thighs. I rush through the house and walk toward the pool.

  I know I don't really swim, but maybe I can enjoy the poolside, watching him. I don't even remember when was the last time I was in the pool. Probably never… not since.

  Elijah turns to do another lap and stops when he sees me. Every nerve ending in my body tickles and buzzes with excitement when he looks me up and down. His Adam’s apple moves sinfully as he unabashedly checks me out. The tension around us has been palpable all week. God, since the first second we set eyes on each other. I’ve never thought of sex as much as I have since he entered my life, especially this passing week. And he’s the lead actor in my fantasies. I don’t know what he’s doing to me, but being close to him sets my body on fire like he pushes a switch inside me.

  “Did you decide to join me?” he asks. His voice is breathy.

  “Yeah. It’s a hot morning,” I shrug, trying to seem indifferent even though I’m nervous to take off the t-shirt. Taking a deep breath, I pull the t-shirt over my body and walk toward the pool with the confidence I don’t really feel.

  “Yes. Hot,” he murmurs.

  Suppressing my smile, I walk into the pool from the shallow side. My breath quickens as he swims toward me.

  I shiver. “It’s cold.”

  “You’ll get warm after a few laps. Come on,” he urges me with a chuckle, but I shake my head.

  “I’m not a good swimmer. It’s been years since last time.”

  His shock is clearly written all over his face. "You have this, and you don't swim?"

  I shrug. I see the realization hit him as he comes closer to me. Lifting my chin up with his index finger he asks, “That story?”

  I nod. Sadness shadows his handsome features, and when he's about to say something, I shake my head. I don't want to start my day with the guilt I carry on my shoulders. "Please. Maybe later," I tell him, hoping he'll let it go.

  He nods and cracks a smile and change the subject. “Want me to help you swim?”

  Excitement blooms inside me. This is how I want to start my day. I nod, half nervous half excited. I take his outstretched hand and let him pull me to the deeper side of the pool.

  “Let’s see how much you know,” he says and let my hands go.

  Trying to suppress my panic, I start to hit the water with my hands and feet. No matter how hard I hit, I feel the water pull me under. When my head gets under the water, I try to scream and swallow the bitter taste. The chlorine burns my throat. I open my eyes, but they hurt, too.

  When strong hands grip me from my waist and lift me above the water, I start coughing.


  “Shh, I got you,” he whispers over and over again while rubbing my back.

  I clutch to him like a koala, heaving as I try to catch my breath. When I finally relax, I realize the position we’re in.

  His hands are supporting me from my ass. My arms are wrapped around his shoulders while my head rests into the crook of his neck. Realization dawns on both of us at the same time and we both tense. I expect him to drop me back to the water or maybe move his hands to a more appropriate place, but instead, he just leans back to see my face.

  “Are you okay?” he asks. His voice is husky, sending shivers to my spine.

  I nod. “I panicked.”

  “It’s okay. Do you want to continue or we can just stay still?”

  I swallow the nerves. I’ve spent years with this fear and guilt. I want to heal. I want to remember my brother without feeling this suffocating guilt.

  “I want to continue,” I say.

  He nods and looks at me intensely, “I got you, okay?”

  I nod again, let him lift me in his arms in a bridal style. I can’t let go of his shoulders with the fear inside me, but he slowly unwraps my hands, balancing my weight on his forearms as he places me on the water face up.

  "Don't be afraid. I taught swimming to all of my sisters," he says, and I fight the urge to roll my eyes.

  “I’m not your sister,” I say with more sass than I intended.

  "Trust me, I know," he says quietly. The hunger in his eyes as he moves his gaze on my body renders me speechless, and I can only watch him watch me with his bottom lip between his teeth.

  Finally, he whispers, “Close your eyes.”

  My insides clench with his voice. His breath tickles my ear. My heart beats faster. I'm sure my hands would be sweaty if they weren't already in the water. I'm a ball of anxiety, panic, and above all, arousal. Swallowing the nerves, I do what he says and close my eyes, because I don’t trust myself not to combust with the proximity of him.

  "Lay your head back in the water. Don't be afraid, I'm holding you. I won't let you go," he murmurs, his voice is muffled with the water in my ears. "Match your breath with mine," he orders. His breath is fanning my lips, and I open my eyes.

  And.

  I’m.

  Gone.

  “Elijah,” I whisper in a breathy voice I have never heard from myself, but I don’t care. I want to feel those lips fully on mine. Ravishing me.

  And before I can send a prayer for it to happen, everything stops but us.

  Because the next thing I know is his lips crash over mine.

  18

  Elijah

  Cherry Pie.

  My mom cooks that for me every time I visit home. That’s my favorite.

  And like universe’s cruel joke, that’s how her lips taste. Like a cherry pie. More delicious than any I’ve tasted before.

  I know I should stop, but I can’t separate our lips even to come up for air.

  I don't know when she wrapped her legs around me. I don't recall when I press her against the pool wall. But as her fantastic ass fills my palms, her delicious warmth press against my cock, I know I can't stop.

  When she separates our lips for much-needed breath, I know this is a chance for me to stop. But with the sight of her, there isn't really any chance against her. Nothing can stop me as she looks at me almost with wonder. Her lips are even redder with our kissing, her eyes shine brightly with excitement and lust. Her chest heaves, hypnotizing me with the delicious swell of her tits. She tightens her legs around me, giving me the tease of her warmth just where I want her. My dick is painfully hard, demanding release. I can't help but rub myself between her legs. Hoisting her up, I line our bodies better. Her soft skin under the swimming suit is making me dizzy. Everything about her is smooth against the hard lines of my body. And that's heaven right here on earth, in this pool. Even the sun can't stay away from taking a peek at her beauty, it sends its rays over her, accentuating her exquisiteness to a painful degree.

  She moves her hand from my shoulder to dive into my hair, pulling me closer to her with hunger in her gaze and I can only oblige her request.

  Kissing her lips with the bottled up lust of my time in here, I capture her moans with my lips. Her nails dig into my shoulders, making me crazy with the delicious pain that’s caused by her need. I move my lips to her cheek, jaw, and her neck. She shivers in my arms as I lick her soft skin. Even the pool water mixed with chemicals can’t mask the smell and taste that belong to her.

  "Elijah," she gasps when I find her sweet spot just under her collarbone, and her breathy voice goes right to my dick like the bastard needs more stimulation.

  “We shouldn't do this,” I say, even though I keep the descent of my mouth on her skin.

  “Don't stop,” she pants, pressing my head on her body while she withers with need.

  I groan when I reach the swell of her tits. The neck of her swimsuit is low enough to let me lick those curves, but that's not enough. I have to see her. I have to know the color of her nipples. I have to know if she tastes as delicious as her lips, in between her legs. I want to know how tight she is, what kind of noises she makes as she comes. Every fucking day since I first saw her, I fantasized every possible scenario like a damn pervert.

  “I'm your teacher,” I say, but I don't know if it was meant to be a warning or just feeding the fantasy we've found ourselves in.

  “You're not my teacher. Not now. Not on the weekends,” she tells me with her seductive voice.

  I swallow, unable to take my eyes away from her body.

  “Do you want me?” she whispers.

  “Want doesn’t even cover it,” I growl.

  She moans, digging her nails deeper into my shoulders while pulling me closer to her.

  “Then don’t stop, Elijah.”

  Our heads inches apart from each other, foreheads pressed together. And both of us have only need and hunger in the look we exchange. My gaze falls to her chest again. Those damn curves.

  Her nipples taut against the fabric of her swimming suit and I have to grit my teeth to stop myself from ripping that offensive piece of material off her body. Instead, I palm her breasts, enjoying the feel of them in my hands. Gripping her nipples between my thumbs and index fingers, I squeeze them through the fabric and watch her eyes roll back with pleasure. Dammit, she's so fucking beautiful. The moan she suppresses by capturing her bottom lip between her turns me into a beast.

  “We shouldn't do this,” I murmur again, but it's not a protest. It's never been a protest. Instead, it's like adding fuel to the fire that burns dangerously. “But we can’t stop. I can’t stop. I won’t fucking stop,” I say like that’s my mission in life.

  She rubs her pussy over my aching cock with a shivering breath, I'm gone. Every shard of self-control I have has gone.

  Like she didn't turn me on enough, she leans to my ear and whispers, “I want you.”

  And with that, I turn to a man possessed by need.

  I leave the pool at lightning speed with her in my arms and don't stop until I reach the bed.

  19

  Eva

  He kisses me all the way until I feel the mattress on my back. His thighs straddle my legs as he watches me. The fire in his eyes is so intense I can feel myself burn with its warmth. My skin erupts in goosebumps.

  I moan when I feel his lips on mine again. This time the kiss isn't urgent as before. We kiss slowly, passionately, like we have all the time in the world. His lips trail kisses from my lips to my jaw and to my neck. I arch my back to give him better access as he sucks and licks the sensitive skin. I haven't known I could feel this much with just a kiss, but as he moves his lips under my ear, I'm writhing in pleasure under him. I can feel his hardness between my leg, and I don't feel ashamed as I move my hips to seek friction.

  I sit up as he tries to peel the swimsuit off my body.

  “This little red piece looks great on you, but I need this off,” he groans, fighting with the tight material.

&
nbsp; I giggle, but it turns into a gasp when he finally bares my tits to his eyes. Slowly pushing me back to the bed, he looks deep into my eyes.

  “Evangeline, are you sure you want to do this? We can stop. Maybe we should.”

  How can he doubt? Or maybe he has the cold feet. Perhaps he thinks I'm… "You think I'm how they think of me, right? You think I'm easy, a slu-"

  He puts his hand over my mouth.

  “Don't call yourself those things. Ever. I don't think any of those things about you. I've never thought those things about you.”

  I swallow the tears that threaten to fall. "Then why are you trying to stop?"

  He looks at me for so long I feel insecure. Wrapping my arms over my chest, I try to cover myself, but he stops me. Reaching for my hands, he brings them to his mouth and places a kiss on every knuckle.

  “Don't cover yourself from me.”

  I let him hold my hands, but I can't look at him in the eye while I still think he doesn’t want me.

  “Evangeline. Baby, look at me.”

  I can't NOT look at him after he calls me baby. That's the first time I hear him say it.

  “I want you. There's nothing I wanted more than this moment, since I first saw you. I've been dreaming, thinking, fantasizing about you since day one.” He smirks. “You're driving me crazy.”

  I know he's not done so I wait for him to continue.

  “But no matter how much I want to fuck you, I can't do it if you're not sure.”

  Just when I'm about to answer him, he continues with more serious tone. "I care about you so much more than sex even though every second I don't have you is pain. I want you, but I need you to know it's not just plain fucking for me."