licks her lips. “Are you saying you might like an appetizer before the main course?”
I walk to the door and lock it. Pull down the window shades. “I’d like to dip my spring roll in your plum sauce.”
“Okay, that was cheesy,” Trista says with a laugh. “But I think for my starter, I’d like to get the first bite.”
“Yeah?” I wrap my arms around her waist. “Tell me more.”
She bites her bottom lip, then pushes me toward my desk, unbuckling my belt and pushing down my trousers.
“Remember the night we met, how you said your cock would ruin me?”
I groan as she gets on her knees, taking my thick cock in her hand, stroking me and making me solid steel.
“I remember,” I manage to say as she swirls her tongue over my tip, licking up droplets of precome.
“You were right. You were right about everything. I think about your cock so often it shouldn’t be legal.”
“What do you think?” I ask her as she runs her fingers over my hot balls.
“When I’m grocery shopping, picking out eggplant, I think about your dick filling me up. When I’m at yoga class in the happy baby pose, my knees in the air, I think about you pounding me. After, in the shower, I take the shower head and press it against myself until I come.”
“How hard do you come, baby?” I ask her, so pho-king hard for my girl.
“Not as hard as you’re gonna come in my mouth,” she whispers as she takes me fully. She sucks me hard, deep in her throat, her hands on my knees as she takes me.
I moan in pleasure as she gets me off, and I know my come is gonna slide down her throat, fill her belly the way it should. She is mine — not my student, my lover — and it is my job to make sure she is pleased.
“Oh, yes,” she whimpers as she takes me, moving her hand over my shaft, pumping my cock like a good girl.
“I’m so close, baby,” I tell her, and she puts my dick back in her mouth, her lips tight, suctioning around me as she pumps me nice and good, until I'm coming hard in her pretty little mouth.
She sucks me, seeming to savor every bit of come that she swallows. God, I love her.
Then she kisses my tip, running her tongue over me for good measure. “I love it when you come in my mouth,” she tells me, standing up, holding my cock in her hand as if the weight of me grounds her.
“I love you, Trista.”
She winks. “Good, then take me to lunch.”
“Not yet,” I say, pulling on my pants.
She frowns. “Why not?”
I reach into my suit coat, grabbing a black velvet box. Now I’m the one on my knees, kneeling before the love of my life.
“I was going to ask you at lunch, but I can’t pho-king wait another moment. Marry me, Trista. Be my wife, my forever.”
She gasps, surprised, as I take the diamond ring from the box, offering it to her. “Of course,” she says as I slip the ring onto her finger. “God, good thing I did my nails today.”
I laugh. “Girl, your nails are always done.”
“Fair,” she says, giggling as I stand and pull her into my arms. “I love you, Trent, and I can’t wait to spend pho-ever with you.”
Epilogue 2
Trista
10 years later…
My mind is filled with the words from the phone call I just ended. I feel scattered, emotional, and like life is speeding up all around me.
The morning has felt rushed, getting the triplets fed and dressed. Lily is refusing to put on her pants, Ivy tossed her oatmeal across the room, and Juniper won’t stop saying “No way!” — a phrase she recently learned and won’t stop repeating. Terrible twos are legit. And I am legitimately losing my mind.
That phrase, Girl Boss? My daughters have already figured out what that means because I swear, some days it feels like they are the boss of me.
Thankfully my mother-in-law, Sandra, is here now, telling me she can handle it. Wiping up the oats from the floor, finding a dress for Lily since the pants seem like a deal-breaker, and offering a new phrase to Juniper to replace the old one. “Love you, Mama.”
I smile, thinking that is much nice to hear on repeat.
“Why do you think I moved to town? To help with my grandbabies, Trista.”
“Okay, I just feel bad,” I say. Mom-guilt is a real