Teaching Harper (Tempting Mr. Bedford #2)

Fifteen

POV: Harper

"This will be the last time, do you understand?"

Simon tugged his tie free impatiently. I could almost believe he was angry with the situation he was in, if not for the deliciously large bulge in his pants. That, and the fact that he had practically dragged me upstairs and into his room.

I slipped out of my vest and tossed it, my gaze locked on his. Slowly, I began to unbutton my shirt. "Whatever you say, Professor," I replied. I knew I shouldn't be reminding him he was doing something very naughty with his student, but I couldn't help myself. "You know I always do as I'm told."

"Stop calling me that." He stripped off his shirt, giving me a nice view of his well-toned chest and abs. "And if you did as you were told, you wouldn't be here."

"I guess it depends what you tell me to do." I wriggled out of my skirt. Standing in front of him in nothing but my underwear and a smile, I watched him undress.

"Get on the bed."

"Yes, sir." I know he meant for me to lie down, but I felt a little cheeky, so I just sat down on the side of the bed.

Now completely naked, he closed the distance between us until he stood in front of me. Our gazes locked, I slowly moved backward toward the middle of the bed. When I was fully on top of the bed, he crawled on top of me.

His mouth took mine in an urgent, bruising kiss that blew all the air out of my lungs. I moaned, my back arching in pleasure and gratification. God, I missed the taste of him. The past few days had been torture for me. I thought that if I stayed away for a while, he'd yearn for me as much as I did him. The way he was practically assaulting my throat with his tongue told me I was right.

I couldn't take a full breath until he finally broke off the kiss to nuzzle my neck. "God damn it, Harper," he muttered. "Why can't I stay away from you?"

I knew the answer to that. Simon wanted me because he shouldn't have me. I was the forbidden fruit. I was too young, he kept reminding me, even as he fucked me again and again. Today, he just found out I was his student. Not only was he lusting after a woman young enough to be his daughter, but he was also her professor. Jesus, the skewed power dynamics of our entire relationship must be driving him crazy. No matter how much he protested — more to himself than to me — I knew all I had to do was walk into a room to give him an erection. His protestations were just a way to assuage his guilt, to give me a chance to say no.

He didn't understand that it was not I who had to answer yes or no. I asked the questions, not him. If he didn't want me, he wouldn't have fucked me.

If he didn't want me, I wouldn't be here in his bedroom. On his bed. Lying underneath his large, strong, naked body. Writhing in arousal as he seared kisses down my body.

Impatiently, he felt around for the clasp of my bra and undid it with a flick of his fingers. His lips clamped around one breast. I moaned out loud, my eyeballs rolling almost to the back of my head in sheer arousal. Jesus. Of all the men I've been with, no one could reduce me to a trembling heap of arousal like Simon could. I felt like a musical instrument that only he knew how to play.

He took his time, the bastard. By the time he was kissing his way down my stomach, I was desperate to have his cock deep inside me. When he pulled my thong down to my ankles and tossed them away, I nearly fainted in anticipation. But instead of thrusting his thick, throbbing dick between my legs, he put his mouth on my pussy.

"Simon!" I gasped, digging my fingers into his hair.

His tongue found my clit and suddenly any words I wanted to say turned into an incoherent jumble of squeals and moans. His hot breath and the rough scruff on his chin on my sensitive skin set my body on fire almost as much as his tongue.