“I can make it feel better,” I promised, and before he sensed my move, I slid down and captured the tip of him between my lips, t-shirt and all, where I suckled tenderly. I loved the disbelieving gasp that left his lips and I laughed naughtily, dragging another gasp from him. I flipped his t-shirt back to get to the meat of the matter, and the sound I made when I laid eyes on him for the first time was more than needy. It was damn near weeping. He was a god of a man like I’d never seen before, with a six-pack you could count, his manhood nestled perfectly in the ridge of his navel, and a bead of desire on the tip just waiting to be stolen.
My tongue darted out and licked it, his hiss of pleasure making me want to come in place, too.
“Fuck, my little tart. Who said you don’t know what you’re doing?” Bishop moaned, thrashing while I sucked him into my mouth almost to his hilt and held him there, the heat of my lips and tongue stroking him until he slid from my grasp again, all of him quivering with need. I didn’t give him a chance to say more before I sucked him into my waiting lips and rubbed his tip against the back of my throat. He had grasped the sheet for dear life, but he wouldn’t last long if his shaking thighs were any indication.
Letting him slide from my lips again, I sucked him back in, picking a rhythm I sensed was the right one to make him come apart in my arms. “Oh, God, don’t stop,” he moaned. Suddenly, he grasped my hair and pulled me away at the last second. “I’m going to come,” he hissed, his eyes closed and his head thrown back.
I grasped him, my hand offering pressure at his base for a moment before he exploded with need across my chest, his moans low, hot, and filled with emotion my inexperience couldn’t decipher. His chest rose and fell, but his eyes remained closed as I stroked him a few more times to draw out his pleasure.
“I think I sorted out the lust part,” I said, my lips tilting up when he opened his eyes to glance at me.
“You are a naughty little tart, you know that?” he asked, using his shirt to clean me up. “That was.” He fell to his side and made the mind-blown motion at his head. “I was not expecting that.”
“Me either,” I agreed, falling back to the bed and sighing. “I don’t know what came over me.”
“Probably the same thing about to come over me,” he said, sliding his hand up my thigh and under my shorts. His fingers caressed the thatch of soft hair there while his lips sought mine again. His kiss brought me back to a heightened sense of desire while his fingers stroked their way closer to my center. When he encountered unexpected moisture, his breath caught again, and his lips tugged upward against mine. “It seems you weren’t unaffected by your shenanigans, my student,” he teased.
I thrust my hips into his hand and moaned. “I’ve never been this hot for anyone before, Bishop,” I said, my voice wavering. “I don’t know what’s going on.”
He gazed into my eyes, his holding mine while his thumb rubbed my cheek. “Do you trust me?”
“I shouldn’t, but I do,” I whispered, my breath catching when he stroked the engorged bud at my apex.
“Correction. You trust me because you know you can. You know I’m not going to hurt you, right?” My head nodded without even thinking about it, and then my shorts were gone.
“What are you doing?” I asked the words in barely a squeak.
“Repaying the favor.” He was pushing my legs apart carefully, making room for his head.
I grasped his hair and stopped him instantly. “No. No, I don’t let anyone do that.”
His gaze lifted to mine, and he waited. “Why not?”
“I—I don’t know. I just don’t.”
“Close your eyes,” he said, his fingers straying back to my bud. “Close your eyes, and remember that you trust me.”
My eyes closed against my will, and I held myself stiff, waiting for him to make a move I didn’t like so I could jump up and run away. Well, not run away, but get away from him. Hide. Pretend I wasn’t now his wife.
Instead, heat filled me slowly as he caressed me with a tenderness I had never experienced before. His tongue stroked the length of my lips, and then he rested his tongue on that bud, waiting and watching for any sign I wasn’t okay with what he was doing. I moaned a little and shivered, pressing my hips toward his face, wanting more even when I didn’t want any of it. His lips encompassed the bud, and he suckled on it, teasing the rest of my womanhood with his fingers. I was moaning. I couldn’t help the sound as the sensations rocketed through me at such a lightning-fast pace that I couldn’t hold them back. “Bishop,” I called, my hips in the air until he held them down to the bed gently.
“Say my name again,” he begged, his tongue stroking me while his finger slid inside. When I didn’t object, he slid in a second one at the same time he pulled me back between his lips and sucked hard.
His name fell from my lips instantly. “Bishop,” I moaned, my voice shaking. “God, Bishop, I can’t stop.”
His laughter and the exquisite pressure from his fingers sent me right over the edge. I called his name into the room like a dying woman using the last of her breath. When it was over, I found myself in his arms, the lights off, and his legs supporting my bad one. He had
