The Professor - Kelli Callahan Page 0,40

he asks, “So, I’ll be your first for everything?”

Swallowing, I nod. Male satisfaction dances across his face, and I almost roll my eyes. If it were anyone else, I probably wouldn’t have appreciated the territorial air. But with Bryce, I don’t mind being his. He stands up to take his pants off and I gulp down my rising anxiety. My eyes are glued to his rigid, swollen cock. I almost snort. Of course, he’d be perfect in every way. His body is like a work of art―that of an athlete instead of an economics professor.

“Are you okay? We can stop if you want.” His voice is strained as if the words were hard to get out.

“I don’t want to stop.”

His shoulders relax with his sigh. Fire consumes my face when he walks to his nightstand to take out a foil packet. I hadn’t even thought of protection. I’m entranced by his every movement as he sheathes himself.

He pulls me to him and practically purrs, “Are you ready for me, Abby?”

I am ready...and nervous. He must sense my anxiety because he gently brushes my cheek with a finger. “We’ll go slow.”

So this is it. I’m finally losing my v-card. There’s no one else I’d rather have my first experience with. His fingers slide between my thighs, teasing my opening before diving in. My fingers dig into his biceps at the delicious invasion, as I moan. I thought we’d get right to it but he’s using his skilled fingers, once again taking me to incredible heights. He strokes a spot inside of me that sends jolts of electricity through my core. In no time my toes curl and tingle and fire spreads through me.

“Bryce. How are you so good at this?” I pant and quiver.

His answer is a smirk. I guess I don’t really want to know. I’m pretty sure it involves other women.

“Now, you’re really ready for me,” he notes, gazing at his fingers, slick with my juices before sucking them into his mouth and licking them clean.

I’ve barely recovered from two intense orgasms when he positions himself between my thighs. Slowly, he pushes his cock into me. His invasion is uncomfortable at first, and I hold on to him tightly. The beads of sweat on his forehead show his incredible effort to control himself. I fall in love with him a little more for that.

Stroking his jaw, I tell him, “I’m okay now, you don’t have to hold back anymore.”

His gaze holds me captive. “Are you sure?”

In response, I lift my hips and wrap my legs higher around his waist taking him deeper. He groans. “So this is what heaven feels like.”

My giggle turns into a moan when he begins to move. The discomfort turns into unspeakable pleasure and soon I’m rising to meet his thrusts. He kisses me, swallowing my cries and gasps. My palms caress his back, feeling his muscles bunch with each movement. My body feels hypersensitive and every sensation is almost overwhelming, even the friction of his skin against mine.

My scream as I shatter around him yet again is muffled between his neck and shoulders. It’s more intense than the first and second. I can’t stop shuddering. The best experience, however, is feeling his powerful frame quake from his release. Knowing that my body has brought him pleasure. We hold on to each other, still connected, both shaking and breathless.

“I’m addicted to you, Abby,” he says.

I smile, loving that he never holds back what he’s feeling. I, on the other hand, am too overwhelmed to even speak. I can’t express myself as freely as he can. So, I hold on to him tighter. He moves to lift himself, and I protest.

“Don’t go.”

“I’m twice your size. I must be crushing you.”

“I don’t care.” Too many emotions have swamped me, and I just want to hold on to him. I hope he doesn’t think I’m the clingy type.

The vibration of his chuckle feels good against my breasts. He rolls us over so that I’m on top. “Better?”

I nod, my face still buried in the crook of his neck.

“Abby, are you okay?”

“I’m more than okay.”

“Then why won’t you look at me?”

Slowly lifting my head, I meet his gaze. “Because...that was just too...amazing.” And I’m a little frightened by the intensity of my emotions.

Bryce strokes my hair. “Yeah,” he sighs, “it was.”

We gaze at each other for I’m not sure how long. I feel like we’ve come to a silent agreement that we’re not just dating to see where things