Page 23 of Crush

“We’ll … we’re going to get caught…” But as I say the words, I don’t care.

“Let them find me.” He lifts his head enough to grin deviously, then with a flick of his fingers, he pushes my underwear to the side. “There you are.”

I pant, “It’s nothing you haven’t seen before.”

His teeth flash with a brief smile. “I like seeing it again.”

Thorne dips low, and the next thing I feel is his hot, slick tongue against my folds.

Moaning, I clutch the arms of the chair as he swirls, darts, and circles the best parts of me. He purrs against my flesh, then uses his fingers to travel where his tongue can’t. Both stimulations make me writhe and beg with my body for him never to stop.

I should hate this. Push him away with my foot. Cry out for some faculty member to put an end to this. But I can’t. This is what I aimed for in the shower. What I wanted when my hand couldn’t do the job properly enough.

The memory brings with it an idea, and slowly, through the whorls of pleasure, I bring my hand up.

Thorne pauses in his ministrations, eyeing my movements, though his fingers keep stroking and plunging deep.

I press my hand to my throat while staring him down.

His pupils dilate.

Thorne snarls his approval, his fingers moving faster, less intent on collecting the wetness to make the strokes smoother and more motivated to plunge, pillage, and claim. The painful friction of his large fingers into my most sensitive area should be uncomfortable, but it’s doing the complete opposite. It causes me to want more.

I squeeze my jugular.

“Oh, fuck,” Thorne rasps at the sight. His other arm, the part of it I can see, moves rapidly up and down like he’s stroking himself.

I don’t have enough air to voice my approval. My vision grows spotty, my stomach diving, then leaping at the pounding of adrenaline against the lack of oxygen. Yet I force myself to squeeze harder as the pleasure builds. Edging between passing out and flying high.

Thorne notices and dives between my legs again, sucking up my orgasm with incubus intentions. He laps it up while I wheeze out the ecstasy, thrashing in my chair against him with my own willingness to strangle myself.

This is so fucked up.

So amazing.

My head lolls with the erotic ride while an orgasm rockets through my veins. I have to unlock my fingers from my neck to stifle the mewling cries from escaping my mouth.

I come, but Thorne doesn’t relent. He keeps going, tonguing every last bit into his mouth until I have nothing left to give him.

Panting, huffing, I’m nothing but a rag doll in my chair. My eyelids are heavy, and I can barely see, but I’m aware enough to see Thorne stand and unzip his pants.

I’m not ready, I want to say, but I don’t have the strength to form the words. Or … I don’t want to say them. I’m certainly ready for him. What would his dick feel like instead of his fingers? How far could I stretch for him? How high could he take me?

“Ember? Are you here?”

Thorne dives with the silence of a fish, then crouches in the shadows under the desk.

“Yep!” I call out to Aiko, turning in my chair in time to see her round the corner. “Just—just finishing up.”

“Okay, cool. It’s lunch. I figured I’d find you, and we could walk to the cafeteria together.”

“A-Absolutely.” My hand shakes as I raise it to the computer’s mouse.

“Hey, why’s your screensaver on?”

“Oh, I was looking at something in a textbook. Guess I lost track of time.”

“Okay. Yeah. Sure.” Aiko scans the space around my computer, probably noting the complete lack of textbooks. “I’ll meet you outside, ’kay?”