Then, my mind really takes off when, during chemistry, he changes our seats. I’m taken by complete surprise when he places me in the very last row, in the very last seat, a far cry from where I was before, front and center.
I stay after school, not for math, but with him, because I’m pathetic like that, a small sliver of hope still remains that he’ll invite me into his office once everyone leaves.
When 3:10 rolls around, I’m still seated in my new seat in the very back. Madison lingers the longest, and I think she’s never going to leave. I try not to compare my desperation with hers. It’s like she’s seeing if she can outlast me, which she obviously can’t.
“Have a good night,” he says to her, obviously her cue to go.
He still hasn’t even looked at me, and when she finally walks out, he starts erasing the board. I try not to stare at him, obsessed and consumed.
“Would it be better if I switched classes?” My voice is low, unsure. It’s not what I want, but I’ve thought about it before. Maybe now would be the right time.
“God no!” He throws the eraser on his desk and walks over, sitting backwards in the chair in front of me.
“I just thought maybe it would be easier if I did,” I shrug, my face sad.
“No,” his voice is firm. “I still have to see you.”
“Then why not the rest?”
He sighs, his face struggling, like he’s asked himself this very question a million times. “What do you think could possibly happen, Luci?” His mask is back up, he’s back to being angry and annoyed. “That we’ll go out, around town?” His tone hits me hard. “We could never be seen, anywhere. We could never go outside of these walls. And even here, it’s all in secrecy. It could never be real. We can never be real. You understand that, right?”
I nod. It’s cruel and honest, but I get it. But it doesn’t change how I feel.
“Something is better than nothing,” I confess. “I don’t need some sort of relationship.
” I hate how I’m practically begging.
“I know you,” he shakes his head. “And you’re wrong. I see the way you look at me.”
“And what about you?” I shout, irate over his attitude, the way I look at him? What about the way he looks at me?
“Doesn’t matter,” he shrugs. “I know the reality of it.”
“Okay,” I roll my eyes. “You’re clearly so much better than I am then.”
“Lu-”
“No, I get it,” I grab my bag. “See you.”
A week and a half passes and I’m miserable. It kills me, because I know he is too.
We’ve still been eating lunch together every other day, and it’s torture, not to mention a little weird.
I never wanted things to be weird.
I shove my books in my locker, picking up the ones that fall back out. It’s like my own locker is yelling at me over how stupid I am, screaming at me to get over him.
“Hola, Luci,” Mr. Pearl’s voice frightens me. It wasn’t the one I was expecting to hear. We exchange quick pleasantries in Spanish as he walks by: hello, how are you, I am good and you, I’m fine, thanks for asking.
I bend down to pick up the last book, ramming it back into the small space.
“Didn’t peg you as a Spanish taker,” he laughs, no doubt at the scene before him.
I suppose me arguing with my locker is quite amusing.
I knew he would show up, his smooth, arrogant voice making me tremble. I slam my locker in a huff.
“Why not?”
He shrugs in response, and I don’t know why I feel the need to defend myself.
“It’s practical. A lot of people speak Spanish in this Country.”
“Okay,” he laughs, no doubt over how I take offense over the smallest things.
“What did you take?” I ask as we fall in line, walking down the empty hallway to his classroom.
“Je me ennuie de ton baiser. Vous êtes tout ce qui est dans mon esprit,” he smiles.
His mouth enthralls me, and I pause in the doorway, stunned. The way he moves over each word with such ease, his French perfect.
Wetness saturates me and I fidget as I enter the classroom.
“What does it mean?” I sit down, trying to adjust how uncomfortable I am.
He laughs as he turns to grab a chair.
I take the moment to jot down the sound of his words, determined to look them up later.
“I travelled a lot as a kid and fell in love with the language.”
“How artsy,” I joke and he snickers.
“Oh!” He bounces in his chair and I laugh. “I finally saw The Fellowship Of The Ring this weekend!”
“Ah!” I exclaim.
I’ve been waiting for him to see it, but my face suddenly plummets as I think about the last time he was at the movies, on a date.
“What?” He asks upon my unexpected mood change. “I thought you were dying to talk about it?”
“I am,” I shake my head, watching as the light switch goes off, ashamed that he knows what I’m thinking. Surely by now he’s remembering our conversation from a couple of weeks ago, how he pointed out we could never go out in public. He’s right, of course. We can do something as simple as see a movie together.
“I went with my sister,” he offers.
“It doesn’t matter,” I sigh. He bows his head and I will my thoughts away.
“Okay, so let’s hear what you thought.”
Ashley invites Chloe and I over after school, but I bail, too anxious to get home and look up the French he spoke to me today.
The second I bound through the front door I run straight to my room, pressing the power button on my old computer and waiting for it to buzz to life. Gracie pops her head in, wanting to hang out, but I tell her I’m busy. I connect to the Internet and pull up a search engine, clicking on the first translation website the results provide. I type the words I wrote in my notebook, and wait.
My body falls back against my desk chair as I gape at what’s on the screen before me.
I miss your kiss. You’re all that’s on my mind.
His words are what inspire me to go to his office the next day during lunch. I have to know if his routine is still in tact. If his lust for me is still so powerful that he feels the need to relieve himself in the middle of the day.
His office door opens easily and I’m brought face to face with him, sitting, his piercing eyes staring directly at me. He looks down and I follow his stare. His pants are wide open, and he’s squeezing his hard length while lightly rubbing the tip with his thumb. My eyes water, a mix of elation and anguish, as I slide inside and shut the door behind me, clicking the bolt in place.
“Why don’t you ever lock your door?” I practically whimper as my hands twist behind my back.
“Maybe I’ve been waiting for you,” he confesses, a hint of a smile around his lips.
“And if I didn’t come?”
He laughs, a naughty sound that causes adrenaline to pump through my veins.
“I can’t take the back and forth,” I admit, moving towards him. “You either want me or you don’t.”
“How can you ever doubt me not wanting you?” He leans forward and grabs my hand, tracing soft circles over my palm.
“I feel like I keep forcing you,” I confess, looking away.
“Does this feel like you’re forcing me?” He moves my hand to his erect penis, while his other grabs onto me, pulling me forward so I forcefully land on his lips.
He opens his legs and I fall between them. I move my arms around his shoulders, leaning down, meeting his embrace.
“That was a pretty slick move with the French,” I whisper.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he smirks before repeating his words. “Vous êtes tout ce qui est dans mon espri.”
His lips find mine again as our tongues enter a ferocious combat of pure indulgence. I thrust my left hand into his hair as my right grabs hold of his penis tightly.
&n
bsp; “Tug on it like you did last time,” he mumbles. “My hand doesn’t feel nearly as good as yours.”
I moan against his mouth as he jerks and swells at my touch. I wrap my other hand around him too, using both to pump him with a resilient power. He grunts, his breath hot on me, already letting me know he’s close.
I let go of him, backing away before dropping to my knees.
“Oh God, Luci, what are you doing?”
I want to taste him. I have to taste him.
“You don’t have to do this,” he says, and the unmistakable want in his voice makes me smile, because there’s nothing I want to do more than this.
“Yes I do,” I answer, my own hooded expression finding his as I lightly place a kiss directly on the head of him.
“Oh hell,” he closes his eyes. I plant a second kiss on the tip. His eyes open again almost immediately, and I giggle, because I know there’s no way he’s going to miss watching this.
“At least get off the floor,” he pants. “Let me sit on the counter so you can stand.”
“Just… shut… up,” I whisper against him, giving his mushroom head another kiss, this time letting my tongue swirl around it.
“Uhhhh,” he exhales an unintelligible sound, pulsing in the air, begging for more. One more kiss from me, a groan from him, and wetness begins to leak out of the hole.
“Lick it up,” he orders.
I smile as I do, savoring the salty taste, before shamelessly inhaling deeply. He smells so amazing down here, and I twirl my tongue around him as I make my way lower, all the way to his tight balls.
“Yes,” he growls.
I inhale him again, his aroma completely mouthwatering.
I make my way back up, focusing on the tip again for a second before wrapping my hand around the entire length and leading it into my mouth.
“Fuck,” he whispers as I take him in, deeper and deeper, sucking as I go down until I feel him in the very back of my throat. My eyes tear a little from the strain of my wide-open mouth, but it’s amazing and perfect. I have no restraint, weariness or worry, even though I’ve never done this before. It comes naturally, just like everything with him seems to do. He rewards me with the most wonderful sounds as I bob my head up and down.
“Oh, Luci! You suck me so good!” His grunts make me move faster and his hands ball in my hair, not pushing, but just feeling, following me as I go back and forth on him.
He moans my name, and starts thrusting his hips, using my mouth wildly as he chases his orgasm.
“I’m gonna come!” He shouts, pulling back, but I suck down on him harder, not letting him out of my mouth. Our eyes meet and I let him know it’s okay.
“Oh my God!” He touches my cheek and I feel the first bit of warmth hit the roof of my mouth. His other hand shoves my head against him as he continues to pump, blast after blast pouring down my throat. I can’t swallow it all fast enough, and some leaks onto my chin, but it - he - tastes so damn good.
“Luci,” he chants my name between each wavering breath as I devour his come.
He pulses a few more times before stilling, and I suck on him gently while backing away, causing his still hard length to slightly bounce in the air.
He brushes his thumb against my cheek before moving to my lips, staring at them in awe, like he can’t believe they were just wrapped around him.
“You always make me come so much,” he pulls me up off the floor, wiping the excess come off my chin. He doesn’t give me any time to respond. In one swift motion he’s out of the chair and backing me against the wall, his tongue consuming my mouth in the best way as his knee pushes its way between my legs.
“Spread for me,” he mutters, swaying his knee back and forth, widening my stance. He places one hand on my hip while the other unbuttons my jeans, slowly pressing into me as he glides his hand down with the zipper.
I thrust towards him, so damn wet, as both of his hands move to my lower back before dipping into my jeans, under the fabric of my underwear and squeezing my bare ass.
He lowers my jeans slightly, his hands still moving against my skin, now grazing my stomach. I shiver as his hardness pulses against my right thigh, letting out a small laugh as I grab him, because I can’t believe he’s hard again already.
“I’m an animal with you,” he whispers, his hands finding my ass again. A loud moan escapes me as he dips his hands lower, deeper down into my underwear.
“Oh god!” I whimper, feeling his arm between my ass cheeks as he pushes his finger into my vagina.
“You’re so wet,” he pants as he begins to wiggle his finger slowly. He places a soft kiss on my lips as he changes his stance, moving slightly to the side. He removes his other hand from where it was holding onto my ass and slides it around to the front.
I involuntarily start moving my hips as his thumb grazes my clit. With both his hands on me, the one in the front circling all over, and the one in the back, rubbing the inside of me lightly, I feel so full.
“Oh god!” I cry out again.
“Oh,” he moans out a small laugh, his finger hitting me perfectly. “This is the spot,” he confirms. “Right here.”
“It’s so good!”
“Shh, sweetheart,” he mutters against me. “I know. Just to the left like this. It’s what you like yeah?” He asks, already knowing the answer. “It’s going to make you come.”
Sweetheart.
The word is echoing in my mind, and his term of endearment my undoing. I’m shaking and convulsing against his hand, crying out as the familiar tingling feeling washes over me.
“Shhh,” he laughs. “You have to be quiet.”
I bite my lip to keep from screaming as he increases his motions.
“That’s it,” he prods, moaning against me from his own rubbing on my leg. “Let me feel you keep coming around my fingers. Come on, don’t stop!”
When he finally slows, I’m panting heavily against him. He’s all but holding me up as he presses his soft lips against mine with such tender care.
“You’re so sexy,” his whispers before removing his hands. “I want to eat you up.” I watch as he licks each finger, savoring my flavor, just like I did with him. “You taste so good,” he hisses, his length uncontrollably now thudding against me. “Let me have more.”
The need in his face is more than I could have ever hoped for and I nod. He pulls my jeans down all the way, and my shoes accidentally come off with them. The cool air hits me and I’m suddenly so thankful I actually shaved my legs this morning.
He sinks to his knees, pushing my underwear down with his thumbs, and once again, I’m naked from the waist down in front of him.
“I tell myself one kiss. One this, one that, but everything with you never seems to be enough,” he shakes his head, his hand landing on my right thigh as he wraps my leg around his neck, holding it there, the other grabbing my ass as his finger slowly plays with my wetness. He kisses me softly, directly in my center, his plump lips on my sensitive skin. I close my eyes because it’s just so wonderful.
He moves his mouth to my inner thigh before nibbling on each little bit of skin as he makes his way back to my aching core. I let out a soft moan as his tongue hits my clit again, caressing it softly, sucking with just the slightest pressure in the spot he knows I love. I open my eyes to watch, because I’ve never seen anything so amazing.
“God I could eat you up all day,” he mumbles against me.
“Yes,” I hiss as I rock myself into his mouth, building again quickly, not quite even fully over the last high.
My hand skims his forehead as I grab on to his dark strands.
“You love to grab onto my hair,” he smiles, placing another kiss on my clit before licking. His licks pick up speed as he presses his tongue into me with even more pressure. I moan, spreading my legs even wider.
“Oh God!” I shout. “Josh!”
He abruptly stops all movement the moment his name escapes my lips.
Shit.
Ma
ybe that was too much.
The heat in his eyes burns into me as he drops my leg off his shoulder. He stands, swiftly picking me up and moving across the room.
“I’ve dreamt of hearing you say that,” he pants, setting me on top of the island.
“I know,” I admit, closing my eyes, embarrassed as I remember watching him jerk off, his own eyes closed as he begged me to say his name.
“You were so bad,” he laughs. “Watching me.”
I nod, reaching out to him, but he stops me.
“Lay down,” he orders, already spreading my legs.
“Okay, Josh,” I smile.
He groans as he places either hand on my thighs, stroking them softly, as his tongue meets my ache again. I squirm, feeling him smile against me as he picks up the pace, right back to where he was before.
He doesn’t stop as he moves his thumbs to the lips, rubbing and caressing them, his tongue lapping my center rapidly.
I cry out as my orgasm hits hard, moaning his name, my hips bucking as I come against his mouth.
When he finishes licking my juices, his mouth finds mine. I can taste my tanginess, and we both jump back as the bell rings.
“Shit,” he mumbles. I sit up and slide off the island, reaching down and picking up my pants, scouring the floor for my underwear.
He hands them to me and I get dressed.
“What are you doing?” I ask tensely, for when I turn around he’s sitting with his head in his hands.
“I can’t go out there like this,” he waves to his lap, an unmistakably large lump in his pants. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you should go. You’re bad for the… ugh… situation.”
“Right,” I relax, giving him a small wave before unlocking the door and falling into the crowd of people.
The end of January brings snow days, and I think I may be the only high school student on earth who prays for good weather.
Our lunches are no longer limited to the days I have lab. They’re an every day thing now, and lately, we’ve been eating in his office rather than his classroom, because it’s more private. It’s easier for us to touch and not worry about the consequences.
Beautiful Torment Page 12
