Page 8 of Filthy Professor
He hummed and glanced at me. “So, what’s your story?”
A smile played across my lips. “Life story, or the story I’m writing?”
“Dealer’s choice.”
I nodded. “Well, I’m a writer—single, never married—from Wisconsin, who is fascinated with archaeology.”
“All good things so far.” He took a sip of his wine. “Continue.”
My mouth dropped open as I stuttered. “Well, uh, you already know I have a sister and we enjoy Elvis.”
“Even though he’s a terrible actor.”
“Hey!” I said, hitting him on the arm. “I mean, he’s not Oscar-worthy—”
Harrison chuckled. “But he sings pretty?”
“Something like that.” I glanced at my watch.
“Am I boring you?” he asked.
I shook my head. “It’s not that. I . . . just don’t know if this is a good idea.” Thoughts about my last relationship swirled through my head as Harrison placed a hand on my hip, heat pouring through me from the simple touch. If I let myself give in, it could ruin what I had worked so hard for. Putting my job in jeopardy by sleeping with my interviewee was reckless, but when he touched me, I wanted to forget all of that.
“Kat, it doesn’t need to be complicated.” He caressed my thigh, and my resolve crumbled under his touch. As his eyes locked on mine, I saw an intensity that came with lust, but there was something else lying under it. Leaning toward him, I pressed my lips to his, my heart hammering in my chest as the need to feel him filled me. Damn the consequences.
His hands trailed up my sides, finding my breasts as chills rushed through me. I hooked my leg over him and pulled myself up to straddle his lap. His tongue licked my lips, seeking entrance. As I opened to him, I ground my core against his cock, rapidly hardening beneath me.
I ground myself on him, our kisses growing more frenzied. He grabbed the hem of my shirt and broke the kiss to pull it over my head. His eyes went wide as he took in my translucent lacy red bra.
“Shit,” he said, tracing his fingertips over my breasts and swirling them over my nipples. They hardened under his touch, my breathing increasing its pace as he pulled the cups down. Harrison leaned forward as I arched back for him to get better access. Taking a nipple in his mouth, he circled with his tongue before nipping it.
As he did, I thrust my hips back and forth, grinding into his erection and seeking that delicious friction against my clit in any way I could get it. Pressure built within me. “Please,” I forced out. “I need more.”
Harrison looked up at me, his eyes glassy as he released my nipple from his lips, grazing his teeth against it on the way out. Shifting me off him, he sat me on the couch before easing me onto my back. My heart pounded as he took his time, first removing his shirt, then trailing his hands from my neck, down over my breasts, then to my stomach, where he played with the waistband of my black dress pants.
“You tease,” I said, squirming under his touch, wanting nothing more than for him to dive those fingers inside me.
He chuckled. “Such a bad girl. Tell me what you want, baby.”
I ground my teeth together, realizing he was going to make me say it to get my release. The pressure was so much I wanted to crawl out of my skin. Instead of telling him, I grabbed his hand that was still toying with my waistband and pushed, plunging his fingers down between my pants and underwear.
He hissed, his fingertips trailing across the matching red lace. “And you’re a brat—” he started, but I cut him off by grabbing the back of his neck and pulling him down, kissing him as his fingers traveled lower and pushed against my throbbing core through the fabric.
I moaned, needing him inside me, and let go of the back of his neck to unbutton and unzip my pants, giving his hand more freedom. As soon as my pants were unzipped, he moved his hand up and into my underwear. I gasped into his mouth as he parted my folds, finding my clit. He circled it as I pushed into his hand, seeking a firmer touch. He captured my tongue, sucking on it. Holy hell. As he thrust two fingers inside me, I bucked my hips.
Harrison growled, and the sound coursed through me. The feel of his fingers stretching me was an exquisite pleasure as his thumb found my clit again. I gasped, the intensity building as he continued to work me, my hips moving of their own accord as I sought more.
Stars exploded behind my eyes as they fluttered closed. My orgasm built, and I nipped at his tongue, my thighs clenching. The taut muscles only added to the intensity, pleasure washing over me in waves. It was so much that I tried to shift away, but Harrison held me, breaking the kiss to say, “You’re not done yet.”
The words encouraged my hips to keep thrusting, clamping onto his fingers tighter as he pumped them in and out, continuing to work my clit. All coherent thought left my head; all I wanted was him deeper, harder. As another orgasm rushed over me, I grabbed his cock through his pants. He rubbed against me, no doubt seeking some of that friction I so desired.
As I came down from my orgasm, I unbuckled his belt, needing to feel and see what he was packing. “I want this inside me. Now.”
Harrison shuddered against me as I unzipped his pants and slipped my hand in, feeling the velvety skin. Sliding my hand down, I pulled his rock-hard cock out over his boxers. “Holy shit,” I whispered, swirling precum over the tip.
“Kat,” he groaned, shuddering again as I slipped his pants and boxers down before making quick work of the rest of my clothes.
Pushing him down onto the couch, I straddled him, positioning myself over his cock. The orgasms he gave me were so good I slicked him up just by teasing him against my entrance.