Pampered

ET Ch 7 USE THis.jpg

Chapter 7: Pampered

Educating Thalia

a collaboration by @devikafernando and @avenger-nerd-mom

AU fiction

A collaboration involving Professor Hiddleston and Professor Evans- The two are rivals at a posh New England university and have no idea they both have taken interest in the lovely Thalia Bareo. She’s a grad student with interests in language and history; a sassy full-figured Puerto Rican girl from Chicago

Word count 3777

Warnings: Language, Adult Situations, Sensuality (but no sex), Nudity, Pampering, Alcohol Consumption

summary:  Tom and Thalia meet for a secret rendezvous where he courts her with a little pampering

Click here for the main page for Educating Thalia

It seems to him all he does these days is pace and wait for Thalia or long for her when he should be focusing on something entirely else.

Tom sighs and looks at his watch again. She’s five minutes late already.

Will she really come?

He’s gone home after work, showered and dressed for the occasion in nice black pants and a white button-down shirt. He’s rolled up the sleeves and opened the top two buttons, wondering whether formal attire would just scare her away.

A knock at the hotel room door interrupts his thoughts.

“Tom? It’s me.”

His heart gives a weird little jump, and he realizes again how important she’s become to him over these past few months.

He walks over and opens the door, drinking in the sight of Thalia in a knee-length black dress. She’s combined it with her trusty cowboy boots and a sparkly gold cardigan. The dress isn’t too tight, but it hugs her voluptuous figure in all the right places.

Steady there, Hiddleston, you’re not supposed to jump her bones, he reminds himself.

“Thalia. I’m glad you could make it, darling,” he says with a smile and steps to the side to beckon her in.

She glances nervously to the left and right, clutching onto her handbag as if her life depended on it. After she’s walked into the room and he’s closed and locked the door, they stare at each other in silence.

“You look ravishing,” Tom compliments her. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in a dress like this.”

It brings out a tentative smile, cocking her head to the side. “Thank you. I’m not really a dress kind of girl.”  She pushes one foot forward and points down to her boots.

Chuckling, he tsks. “You’re an any clothes kind of girl, believe me. It just takes a real man to appreciate your gorgeous figure in a dress.  And those look just as good on you as your vixen heels did earlier today.”

Her smile deepens a little before vanishing.

She stands there, fidgeting with her handbag and looking unsure of what to do or say.

“Don’t I get a kiss?” he quips, moving closer.

For a moment, the teasing tone unlocks the sassiness he’s grown so fond of.

“Don’t you have your dating etiquette a bit twisted, Professor? Shouldn’t it be a date first and then a kiss, maybe a nice meal?”

With a chuckle, he takes her face in his hands, studying the make-up she’s put on for him. It’s subtle yet passionate, highlighting her expressive eyes.

“True. Then again, we shouldn’t exactly have shagged each other’s brains out before if this is supposed to be our first proper date.”

There’s that blush he loves, highlighting her freckles.

“And technically,” he adds, “I took you out on a date months ago. Remember the dinner in England?”

She scoffs, obviously trying to keep the upper hand. “That doesn’t count. We weren’t…together at that time.”

Tom quirks his brows and steps in closer to bridge the last of the distance between them. He brushes his lips over her forehead, wrinkled in confusion.

“And are we now? Together?” he asks, wondering what she’ll answer.

Her face raises itself as if she wants his lips on hers next, but he can see her thinking, can almost hear the wheels turn in her brilliant head.

“I…I don’t know. I think we are?”

He lets his lips wander over the freckles on her nose and cheekbones before drawing back to look at her.

“I’m aware this isn’t exactly a normal relationship,” he clarifies, “but to me, we certainly are together in a sense. You’re mine, and I’m yours, even if we can’t shout it from the rooftops.”

Another tentative smile.

“And now, give me my kiss and let convention go to hell,” he demands softly.

Tom holds himself still, waiting for her to move. After another moment’s hesitation, Thalia kisses him. He lets her decide the pace and depth, answers her caress with the same soft pressure and slowness until she swipes her tongue over his lips and he parts them for her. The kiss grows more passionate, but he keeps his hands to himself, content for now to cradle her face and taste her.

When she draws back, he gives her an encouraging smile, knowing it’s awkward that they’re meeting in a hotel room. He steps behind her to take her cardigan and hang it, then softly pries the handbag from her clutches and lies it on a side table.

“As you think I’m so lacking in the dating department, why don’t you tell me what else I’ve done wrong,” he asks with the same teasing tone that works well to draw her out of her shell.

As expected, a little of her energetic light returns to her eyes. She steps back and plants a hand on her hip.

“Well, let’s see…  You haven’t brought me flowers or anything, which is so grossly wrong I’m not sure I should have given you that kiss.  I think a proper British gentleman would know that!”

Tom flings his head back and laughs, the ehehehe causing her to grin too and lose her mock-outraged expression.

“Well, it’s a good thing I thought of the flowers then, because I am planning to rob many more kisses from you,” he says and strides to the sitting area of the big room.

He bends and picks up a bouquet of flowers he’s had to hunt for a while. The white and pink blossoms aren’t exactly a common choice. Walking back to her, he bows with a flourish and offers her the bouquet.

Thalia laughs softly, her eyes wide with surprise. “They’re beautiful. But definitely not red roses. What are these?”

A brow raised, he studies her while he explains the meaning. “Oleander flowers are a symbol of seduction and bewitching, spellbinding attraction. Incidentally, they also stand for leaving the past in the past and enjoying what you have in front of you.”

Her eyes grow even wider and she bites her lip. “Oh…” She hides her face behind the bouquet for a moment, but he can see the new blush.

“I had no idea you’re a closet horticulturalist,” she says, but her sassy remark is underlined with something else, a warmth that tells him he’s chosen correctly.

With another chuckle, he answers, “I’m a man full of surprises.” He wiggles his eyebrows exaggeratedly. “Care to discover a few more?”

The tension in the air eases remarkably. Thalia places the bouquet on the sideboard next to her handbag, touching the delicate petals almost reverently. She walks slowly around the room, which is actually a spacious suite. The furniture and fittings speak of sophistication and elegance. Tom has lit a few candles and drawn the blinds, and together with the flowers, it creates a romantic atmosphere.

“Not bad for a date,” Thalia says with a playful smile. “Not bad at all.”

He gives her his best British accent and posh demeanor, half-bowing again. “I’m glad the lady approves. Now, how may I be of assistance?”

A giggle bubbles free before she claps her hand over her mouth, and the sound is delightful and something he hasn’t heard her make often enough.

She holds back another giggle to give off an aloof air and wave her hand. “Oh, why don’t you surprise me?” she throws his own words back at him.

God, he loves her in all her various moods, and that she’s comfortable enough with him now to let him glimpse them.

“Wine?” he asks, and she nods a little too eagerly.

Is that a sign of her underlying uncertainty? Does she think the alcohol will boost her confidence? He doesn’t want her tipsy for what he’s planned, but a little softening around the edges can’t hurt.

Tom pours them both some expensive Cabernet Sauvignon and they sit down in the comfortable armchairs and make small talk.

Talk of their project brings them to the latest production of Much Ado About Nothing, and the longer they lose themselves in a discussion of things they’re both passionate about, the lighter the mood gets.

But when Thalia starts playing with her lovely hair, which she’s wearing in a high ponytail this evening, Tom has had enough.

He gets up and walks over, gently taking the now empty wine glass from her hand. When she looks up at him, he brushes his knuckles over her cheek and mouth. He bends and licks the fruity, slightly spicy taste of red wine from her lips, then kisses her sensually.

“How about that pampering now that I promised you?” he asks softly.

“Yes.” Her voice sounds a little breathy, which is always a huge turn-on.

“Wonderful.. I’ve got the perfect plan all figured out. Give me a few minutes.”

He jumps up and strides into the ensuite bathroom, humming to himself while making sure that everything is ready. When he turns around, he sees her in the doorway, watching with unveiled curiosity.

“When’s the last time you’ve had a nice bubble bath?” he wants to know, and he sees her expression dim a bit.

“I’m not exactly the bath kind of girl,” she admits. “Not much space to feel comfortable if you’re my size.”

Tom scowls and walks over to pull her into the bathroom and shut the door, keeping the warmth and scents in.

“Nonsense, darling. Then you’ve just not found the right tub yet.”

With a sparkle in his eyes, he draws her nearer and sees her stare, her mouth rounding in an astonished O. The suite’s bathtub is large enough to easily hold two or even more people, square on the outside but sinuously shaped on the inside to provide for comfort. He has already filled it with warm water and bath salts to work up a nice foamy, frothy mass of scented bubbles.

“I can smell orchids,” Thalia says in wonder, and he smiles.

“I bought those especially for you. Had to search for quite a bit.”

She turns to him, placing a hand on his chest. “Oh Tom, that’s so sweet of you. I take it all back, this is definitely a great date.”

With a small laugh, he pulls her into him and kisses her until she moans softly at the back of her throat.

“Then let’s get you into that bath and make the date even better, shall we?”

When she moves to unzip her dress, he tuts and holds her hand still. “Don’t move a finger, darling. This is all about me pampering you. The only thing you’re allowed to do is relax and enjoy, understood?”

Her eyes are sparkling, and a smile is tugging at the corner of her lush mouth.

“Yes, sir.”

Damn, he can’t afford to get so turned on by her, but he’s helpless.

After pressing another kiss to her lips, he tugs the zipper down with agonizing slowness and peels her out of the dress. Her matching set of scarlet red silk-and-lace panties and bra make his mouth water, contrasting beautifully with her tanned skin.

Tom takes care not to touch her more than necessary because once he does that, he’s a goner. With precise movements, he frees her of her bra and then of her underwear, unable to resist a kiss and suck on one thigh that makes her quiver.

Much faster, he unbuttons his shirt and removes his pants and boxers. Before she can think of what he might do next, he hooks his arms under her knees and back and lifts her.

Thalia gives a surprised squeak, her arms coming around his neck.

“Mmm, that’s sexy,” she purrs when he carries her effortlessly to the bathtub and sets her gently down in the water.

“Beg to differ,” he says with a rueful grin. “You’re the one who’s sexy. Way too sexy for your own good and for my bedraggled sanity.”

He steps into the tub with her, noticing with satisfaction how her eyes travel down and her tongue wets her lips before he’s immersed in bubbles.

Instinctively, she scoots over, but he doesn’t settle down next to her. Instead, he shifts her gently until he can sit behind her. With his legs around hers and her back resting against his broad chest, he wraps his arms around her and rests his chin on top of her head.

A content little sigh. Thalia wiggles a little, trying to find the most comfortable position in his hold, and his cock gets way too enthusiastic at how her ass brushes against him.

Tom sinks his teeth into the back of her neck, biting hard enough to make her freeze and squeak again.

“Sit still, girl,” he orders quietly. “I’ve spent way too much time getting this bubble bath just right for all the water to slosh over the tub if you continue pushing your peachy ass back at me and I will take you right here and now.”

He hears a barely audible “oh” before she allows herself to settle down.

Breathing in deeply a few times, he calms himself so he won’t spoil this.

They stay like this, quietly, enjoying the warmth and soothing smells of flowers and soap. Tom stretches his long legs and searches with his toes for a particular knob. When he presses it, massaging water jets under the surface caress their bodies, prompting Thalia to sigh happily again.

After a few minutes, she breaks the silence. “Do you do this for all your women?”

A startled chuckle breaks free. Tom shifts. “What do you mean, all my women? I’m not a sheikh with a harem, as tempting as that sometimes sounds.”

Thalia elbows him in the ribs, and he retaliates by tugging her earlobe between his teeth.

“I mean… is this something you do for all your…girlfriends?”

He leans his head back against the cool porcelain. Should’ve seen that coming… It is natural for her to want to know a bit more about him. Hell, he is more than curious about her. He longs to find out about everything that influenced her life…but not necessarily her past love life because he has a feeling he’d just get annoyed with the jerks who failed to treasure her.

Absentmindedly, he starts scooping up fragrant water and trickling it over her bare shoulders while entangling his legs with hers and keeping her still.

“I’m not exactly someone who’s into relationships. I’m more the affair kind of man,” he admits reluctantly.

Tom can feel her stiffen again, her mind probably tying herself into knots with speculation now.

“Really?” She sounds genuinely surprised. “But you strike me as great boyfriend material.”

A hand rises to cover her mouth. “I’m sorry, that came out a bit wrong, didn’t it?”

He pulls her hand away, dropping a kiss on it before lacing their fingers together and resting their hands on her soft, round tummy.

“Thanks for the compliment, love. It’s just…it’s complicated.”

She doesn’t prod, but something deep inside wants to share this with her.

“I was different when I was younger. Eager to fall in love. Star-crossed, filled with foolish hopes.”

He shrugs, though it doesn’t make the painful memories go away. “I got caught up in a whirlwind romance. She was an actress. Quite a famous one, actually. I thought it was true love, I even took her to meet my parents and went out looking for an engagement ring. But it turned out she was in it for positive PR. Once the press and paparazzi started hounding us and once she let her true personality out more, I realized we weren’t made for each other. Still, I stuck with her. I was just that kind of person, willing to give everyone a second chance. Probably also a bit flattered that the effervescent movie star wanted to be with the nerdy college professor. There was a side to her that I connected with, something driven and energetic and impulsive, I guess.”

He drifts off, snuggling closer against her and peppering her nape and shoulders with feather-light kisses that are more a sign of affection than meant to arouse her.

“What happened?” Thalia asks in a low voice, sympathy shining through.

Tightening his hold on her again, he lets the words out in a rush so he can move on. “I found out she was cheating on me. Through incriminating shots plastered on the front page of all the tabloids, no less. Turns out she wanted me as the perfect boyfriend everyone would accept and focus on so she could enjoy secret trysts with a few of her costars, some of them married.”

He can’t keep the bitterness entirely out of his voice, although he’s left the past behind now.

“What a calculating bitch!” Thalia hisses before freezing. “Um…god, sorry. I mean…”

With a mirthless chuckle, he shifts again so he can slide out from behind her and move carefully to the front.

“It’s alright. It really is.”

He forces himself to concentrate on the here and now, on this gorgeous woman who is all his to spoil and explore.

Raising a finger to her protesting lips, he fixes her in his determined stare.

“Now, no more dark clouds and deep talks. Pampering, remember?”

They smile at each other.

The water has cooled down a little, and the bubbles have cleared so he gets a lovely view of her curvy body in the tub. He picks up a loofah and lathers it generously with sweet-scented shower gel.

“Sit up, darling. Let me wash you.”

She blinks at him, although she reacts to his commands automatically.

“I’m squeaky clean, Tom. I thought this bath was just for relaxation?”

He grabs her hand and scoots forward, running the sponge firmly but gently over her arm.

“This isn’t about getting you clean, love. It’s about touching. Connecting. Making you feel good,” he corrects her softly. “Now close your eyes and let me take care of you for a while.”

With a tentative smile, she does as he says. Tom carefully runs the loofah over her body, from her arms to her breasts and her belly before lifting her legs and caressing them too. Off and on, he sneaks a soft kiss in, unable to resist.

When he gets close to the place between her thighs where he longs to be, he stops. Thalia grabs his hand and moves it to her center, her hips rising a little and begging for his touch.

It’s the hardest thing ever to pull away.

When she opens her eyes in surprise and then her mouth to whine “Tom, please”, he shakes he head at her.

“This isn’t about getting you or me off, Thalia. A man and a woman can share intimacy without it being about sex. And a real man always pampers his woman because she deserves it.”

He lets the sponge travel up her stomach again before circling her breasts and ignoring her perky nipples.

“Just enjoy this. Let go.”

With a soft sigh, she closes her eyes lazily.  He lathers the loofah again and tenderly maneuvers her so that she’s kneeling with her back to him.

After washing it and using his free hand to knead some of the tension out of her muscles, Tom removes her hair clip and lets her tresses cascade down.

“Will you let me wash your hair?” he asks, pressing gentle kisses onto her shoulder blades and down her spine.

She has learned her lesson, or maybe she’s finally relaxed enough to enjoy this thoroughly. “Yes.”

Tom grabs the shower head and wets her hair, luxuriating in the way it feels in his hands and against his skin, heavy and strong, a little curlier than dry. He works shampoo into it, carefully tipping her head so it won’t run into her eyes.

“This is for you,” he whispers to her in a half sing-song. “Because you’re worth it. Because the truly strong women know they are allowed to show a little weakness when they’re with their men. Because the truly confident men know they owe their women a little deference.”

He tests the water temperature and rinses her hair out, combing his fingers through the wet tendrils and burying his head in them.

One hand snakes to the front and glides over her hard peaks, making her choke on a moan.

“This is for us,” he adds. “A few hours of stolen bliss that will last us a lifetime.”

Before she can beg him for more, he lets her go and quickly rinses himself off before stepping out of the tub. He takes her hand and pulls her up and out.

Giving in to the overwhelming urge, he presses himself flush against her and kisses her, their tongues dancing and dueling. Her body’s still a little slippery, soft and welcoming, and he imagines bending her over so she can grab the sink, and pounding into her from behind while she watches breathlessly in the fogged-over mirror.

Fuck, he shouldn’t let his thoughts go there. His erection pokes into her belly, and she rubs herself against him and makes a purring sound.

“Later, darling.”

It’s a promise to her and himself, and oh, he’ll make it good for her. He’ll make damn sure she doesn’t ever forget this, forget him.

Forcing himself to step back, he grabs a big, fluffy hotel towel and dries her hair first before turning his attention to her body. Here and there, he nips and flicks out his tongue, teasing her and himself to make the torture even sweeter.

“Tom, why are you doing all this?” she asks, her voice husky and content at the same time.

He nuzzles the side of one plump breast before standing up again and grabbing a different towel to dry himself.

“Questions, questions,” he scolds gently. “Don’t ask. Feel. Experience. Learn. Remember. Live a little with me.”

This time, she pulls him in for a kiss, seriously endangering his already less than rigid self-control.

When Thalia bends towards her clothes, he wraps his fingers around her wrist and shakes his head at her.

“No clothes. I want you to have dinner with me naked.”

Her eyebrows shoot up, and her mouth drops open.

“No way. I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“I…I…” she splutters, her skin a nice tone of crimson that makes him touch the tip of his tongue to a few freckles.

“Do you think we’ll get any eating done if I’m in the nude and possibly you too?”

Tom chuckles and pinches one of her nipples, making her jump.

“Okay, point taken, Miss Thousand Complaints. But no bathrobe and no dress, do you hear me? If you want even a bite of dinner, you’ll join me in only your bra and panties.”

Click here for Chapter 8 Dinner for Two

Copyright © 2017  avenger-nerd-mom.  All rights reserved. Intellectual property of avenger-nerd-mom and devikafernando

 

Just a Girl

et ch 6 just a girl mar 26 2017

Educating Thalia, Chapter 6

Collaboration by @avenger-nerd-mom and @devikafernando

AU FICTION

@devikafernando and @avenger-nerd-mom are presenting a collaboration together involving Professor Hiddleston and Professor Evans! The two are rivals at a posh New England university and have no idea they both have taken interest in the lovely Thalia Bareo. She’s a grad student with interests in language and history; a sassy full-figured Puerto Rican girl from Chicago

Word count: 2883

Warnings: Language, Adult Situations, Fluff, Self doubt, thoughts of sexual situations

Summary:  Thalia finds herself with an interesting lunch companion

Click here to the intro to the novella, Educating Thalia

Thalia pauses outside the door to the faculty lounge shared by the History and Language Departments.  She can hear voices and laughter as the professors begin to clear away their lunches.  She hates to enter the room when it’s so full of other people.  Some of the faculty have a way of making her feel like she doesn’t belong, that she’s only a ‘lowly grad student;’ some don’t like that the reclusive, brooding Brit is actually pleasant with her;  while a few others have even expressed jealousy of her accolades for her studies. Grinning, she knows it’s those fuckers that just push her to work harder the next time…  Chuckling to herself, she leans against the wall across from the entry and looks at her watch.  Many should be leaving soon for their afternoon classes and appointments.  She’ll wait.

It’s been a long week.  Extra hours at the bar, extra hours in the library.  Stolen moments with Tom.

She feels her lips turn to a smile and she runs her manicured nails over the plump, slightly bruised flesh in memory of their most recent kisses, almost burned in her skin.  That man sets her soul on fire and awakens her in ways she never imagined. She’d often fantasized about the older professor, his lyrical voice always stirring low in her stomach, causing butterflies and thoughts of sex in ways to make her blush.  If anyone had told her some time ago that she would be with him or find being dominated so enjoyable, she would have thought they were out of the their ever-loving minds. But with Tom it just feels so damn right to let go and slip into a different skin, almost into something like a parallel universe.  She finds she’s different with him; a softer side she didn’t know she had hidden away.

Her reverie is broken by the loud voice of one of the men in the staff room sharing his tale of a recent sky-diving expedition; making it more dramatic than it probably was.  To hear him tell it, the chute nearly didn’t open and he was worried who would care for his dog as he fell to the Earth.  Peals of laughter from the group interrupted the story and she didn’t hear the remainder of his anecdote.  She looks through the door briefly and he winks at her, giving a broad welcoming smile as he goes back to his story telling.

As if by silent cue, the room begins to clear out and good-byes and well wishes for the afternoon and weekend are shared.  Many address Thalia on their way out, including Professor Joanna Kent, who requests that she stop by her office soon, as she has matters to discuss with the young woman of an “academic nature” she might find interesting.  The older woman pats her arm warmly and pleads, “Please, dear, do make a point to see me.  I hope you’ll be interested in my proposal.”

Thalia gives a polite response, already knowing she doesn’t have the time or energy for any more work-study hours to help Kent with whatever project she has in mind.

Entering the lounge, Thalia is surprised to find Professor Chris Evans still resting on the couch, tossing an orange up in the air and capturing it in his large hands with such nonchalance.  Damn, he looks like he should be featured in a magazine.  He really is beautiful, but she sat in his class for a semester.  Quite the asshole at times.  She’s not sure if the rumors of his escapades with female students on campus are true, but the stories are legendary, told in the dorm rooms late at night as easily as frightening scary tales about intruders hiding under beds.  She knows she’s heard his name whispered around the office hallways occasionally over the last few months and she wants nothing to do with his arrogant, cocky personality.

Standing at the counter, a weak smile crosses her face.  At least she doesn’t worry about Tom being a braggart to his friends.  Her handsome suitor tends to keep to himself, friendly with others but no one he seems really close with…  It makes it easier for them to find time to be together, since her determination to succeed often distances her from her peers as well.  She kinda likes it that way.  Her grin stretches wider as she flips the top on her soda can.

“That’s a pretty smile for this beautiful Fall day; what do you have planned for the weekend, Miss Bareo?”  Professor Evans asks.

Thalia can’t determine if he’s only trying to be kind and make small talk with her or if it’s something more.  His flirtations are not needed.  Or welcomed.  She has half a mind to put him in his place, but frankly, it’s not worth it.  Taking a deep breath, she decides to play nice and stamps down the fire his “pretty” comment invoked.  “Study and work.  Same plan as every weekend,” she grins politely.  Opening the staff fridge, she’s careful not to flash him from under her plaid skirt as she reaches in for her packed lunch, knowing damn well her panties are visibly wet.

Shit.  I don’t think I can sit, and it looks like he plans to stay… dammit.  Choosing one of the tables by the door with padded chairs, she carefully lowers into the seat, trying her best not to grimace.  How the hell am I gonna sit in a two hour lecture this afternoon.  Fuck, Tom got me good.  I just wanna go home and sit on a bag of ice.

The curly haired woman realizes the energetic professor is still talking, although she’s not even been paying attention, so she quickly tunes back into him, simply out of respect.  She instantly wishes she hadn’t.

“-plaid skirt?” He grins, momentarily eyeing her thick legs appreciatively.  “Let me guess, laundry day in the dorms?”

Thalia chooses to ignore him.  He cocks his eyebrow and continues, his voice a bit deeper than usual.  “A little late for a Halloween costume and not Puritanical enough for Thanksgiving….”  Oh. My. God.  He’s flirting with me.  No one flirts with me!  “Going home for the holidays?”

Drawing a deep breath she tries to wrap her mind around the idea that Professor Evans may actually be flirting with her.  She’s out of practice; the old drunks at the bar don’t count…

Looking to the soft scruff on his cheeks and the bright blue eyes behind his glasses a swell of heat rises in her stomach and she’s aware of the wetness between her legs.  Tom.  Tom did that.  Not talking to this man…  She blinks slowly to pull it together fast, shifting in her seat, crossing one leg over the other.  “I wish; I’d love to be able to afford to go home for Thanksgiving, but it’s just not possible.  I’ll be going home after finals for Christmas.”

Absently, he stretches his long legs out on the table before him, continuing to toss the fruit into the air.  He lazily watches her for a moment before asking, “Where’s home?”

“Chicago.  My family will be there, lots of cousins, aunts, uncles.  A college student’s nightmare,” she laughs.  Why am I making small talk with him?  Chica, just eat your lunch and get outta here.  But it’s too late to walk out without being rude and his relaxed mood is oddly comforting, so she keeps talking.  “But I could use the break.  Next semester I have a full course load and so much work to do, getting ready to apply for internships and jobs.  I guess I can’t be in school forever.”

He catches the orange with a firm grasp and rises.  “Well, Miss Bareo, you’re the talk of the campus, I’m sure-”

“What?  ‘Talk of the campus?’  What do you mean?”  Frozen with fear, she panics.  Does he know about her relationship with Tom?  Have people been talking about them?  Feeling cornered, she tugs on the end of her braid out of habit.

Professor Evans drops his trash in the can by the table.  “Just that article last month in the school magazine?  You’ve really made an impression on a lot of people around here.”  He looks at her quizzically for a moment.  “Are you alright?”

His blue eyes show a flash of concern and he reaches to rest his hand on her shoulder, but pulls his hand back at the last moment.

“Fine, I’m fine.” Taking in a deep breath, Thalia continues.  “The article.  Right. Forgot about that.  That just shows how busy I’ve been…”

“Sounds like you need to take time for yourself; nothing worse than a stressed out grad student.”  At the door, he taps the door frame with his fist.  “Don’t let Hiddleston work you over too hard.  Just ‘cause you’re his assistant doesn’t mean he owns you, or can boss you around.  Live a little; let him do some of the work…”  He actually fuckin’ winked at me!  “Have a good weekend, Miss Bareo.”

He leaves before she can reply.  Unwrapping the sandwich from her packed lunch, she drops it to the table, her hunger forgotten.  Folding her hands together, she prays silently his words didn’t hold a deeper meaning to them.  If anyone discovered the relationship between Tom and herself, she could kiss her scholarships, opportunities and any possible future career goodbye.  She’d be back home in Chicago, filling orders at her father’s auto mechanic shop.  The last place she would want to be…  The place she’s worked so hard to get away from.

And if she’s so worried about someone- anyone- finding out about her relationship with Tom, why the hell does she turn to watch Professor Evans walk away, his ass so fine in those jeans hung low on his hips, with that ridiculous red belt that never matches anything he wears?

Another grad assistant pops her head in the door, catching her gawking after him and she blushes.  “It’s a nice ass, and you’re all girl.  It’s okay to look, Thalia. Besides, he’s divorced and hot, and we’re grad students.”  Divorced.  Now she remembers why everyone had been talking about him recently.   “We get to have a little fun.  And if that means ogling the handsome professors, well…”

The young woman takes a granola bar from the basket on the counter and sits next to Thalia at the table.  Thalia chuckles and flips her braid back over her shoulder, finally relaxing now that Evans is gone.  The pretty blonde continues, “I mean, not everyone can be as handsome as my work partner, Professor Johanas, but you know…”  Both women giggle as the image of the portly man pops into their minds.  “Hey, don’t you have class with Smythes this afternoon?  It’s cancelled.  His wife’s in labor.”

Chewing the bite of her sandwich, Thalia uses the back of her hand to brush away a drop of mayonnaise from her lip.  “Really?  You mean I have the rest of the afternoon off?  Hell, I could go get a pedicure; take care of some other things…”

Leaning closer her friend says, “From the looks of the bruise on your neck, I’d venture to say your boyfriend might like that too.”

Her hand flies to her neck.  “What? No!”  The spot where Tom had briefly grasped her neck is tender.  Memories rush back to her and she squirms in her seat again.  Now who did the short skirt punish? Him or me?

“Yeah, babe, pretty fresh too.  Nice.”  The assistant gives Thalia a look of undisguised curiosity.

In response, Thalia simply blushes, the rose across her chest, feeling so momentarily  exposed. Closing her eyes, Thalia pictures in her mind her chat with Professor Evans.  Her braid would have been hanging over her shoulder, covering the bruise.  Oh thank God for small favors.  No sense risking his suspicions, especially since he saw me leave Tom’s office about thirty minutes ago.  We have to be more careful.

“I see…  maybe you’ll tell me later?”  Thalia nods, knowing it’s never gonna happen.  Pushing her chair back, her work friend stands up.  “Well, I’ve gotta get back to my post.  Relogging books in the library.  Will you be at the society meeting next week?”

Damn. Another obligation she’d forgotten about.  Making a quick note in her phone, Thalia lies.  “I’ll try to make it, girl, but I’m working more hours at the bar to pay to go home at Christmas… Hang on, I’ll walk down with you.”

#

Continuing to stare at the pile of clothes on the bed, she has no clue what to wear.  Tom hasn’t sent the address yet, so she has no idea if she should dress casual, dressy, or hell just show up in her long rain coat with nothing underneath.  He’d love that, actually.

“What the hell am I thinking?” she says to no one but herself as she taps her toenails to see if the paint is dry.  Walking out into the hallway, she passes through the next open door, into the bathroom.  “With my luck I’d get in a car crash or something, and then they’d call Dad and Stacey, and I’d have to explain why I was naked on my way to a date.”  Rolling her eyes at her reflection, she can’t help but smile.  She continues her monologue.  “You paid to have your makeup done, Thalia.  Is that any indication of how you feel about the guy?”

Opening the cabinet, she reaches in for her toothbrush, toothpaste and a few smaller items she might need.  She drops everything onto the counter and closes the mirror.  Her inner vocalizations stab at her.  “Ok. Fine.  He’s not a guy.  He’s a man.  All man.  A damn sexy British man who is about ten years too old for me and I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing.”

Turning her head right and left, she admires the simple smoky eye the girl at the spa utilized and taught her how to recreate at home.  The conversation with herself forges ahead as she applies the blue paste to the brush.  “Yes, I’ve always been a good student, and I learn fast.”  She sighs, turning the water on and pointing the brush at the mirror.  “Chica, you freaked yourself out by renting that damn movie about the college student and the business tycoon.”  Pausing, she stops talking long enough to brush her teeth, rinsing and spitting.  Washing out the sink basin, she grumbles.  “What the hell?  What if Tom has a play room? Fuck, don’t answer that…”

She jumps when her phone buzzes, vibrating across the counter and bouncing into the little yellow case for birth control.  With hands trembling, she picks up the phone, recognizing the address of an expensive, classy hotel where she used to work in the next town over, away from the college.  Keeping things secret and secluded.

The way they need to be between a grad student and a professor…

Replying quickly, she sweeps all the materials into the bag on the floor, grabbing a smaller bag from under the sink with shampoo and lotions.  Thalia wonders if they are just eating at the restaurant or if Tom has other-

The phone buzzes again, listing a room number and the message, “I’m already here, darling.  No rush, but arrive with speed if possible.”

She chuckles.  He even texts British.  “What a goofball!”

With one last look in the mirror, she pulls a curl down from the elegant high pontyail she sat for at the spa and lets it hang loose against her cheek.  “Here we go, chica…”

Walking to the bedroom, her new silk robe falls to the floor, but she sweeps it back up quickly and throws it into the bag she plans to keep in the car.  In the bedroom mirror, she shakes her head at her reflection, running her fingers over the stretch marks on her belly and thighs.  “The man must be blind.  Those glasses aren’t just to show off his pretty face.”  She scoffs and reaches for one of the dresses laid out on the bed.  It’s not new, but it will have to do.  She spent too much on her hair, grooming, makeup and new lingerie.  Choking on the idea of extra shifts at the bar, she distracts herself with thoughts of tutoring or other ways to make easy cash before the holidays.  She shudders at the idea she might actually have to work for Professor Kent.

Surprised by the results, looking in the mirror, she admits to herself she looks pretty and feminine.  A far cry from the tomboy always digging in the dirt, she thinks, blinking away a random tear that appears. Looking to her feet, she laughs out loud.  Still had to keep part of me, she thinks.  She snaps a selfie, a habit she hates, sending it off to her stepmother and Dad, announcing she’s actually going out on a Friday night with friends.  She knows Stacey will have questions, but she’ll check in with her later.  Reaching for her small clutch on the dresser, she throws the bigger bag over her shoulder and turns out the lights, leaving her private little sanctuary, her stomach filled with butterflies as she rushes off to join Tom.

Click here to read Chapter 7, Pampered


Copyright © 2017  avenger-nerd-mom.  All rights reserved. Intellectual property of avenger-nerd-mom and devikafernando

Naughty Girl

et ch 5

Educating Thalia: Chapter 5

Collaboration by @devikafernando & @avenger-nerd-mom

AU FICTION

@devikafernando and @avenger-nerd-mom are presenting a collaboration together involving Professor Hiddleston and Professor Evans! The two are rivals at a posh New England university and have no idea they both have taken interest in the lovely Thalia Bareo. She’s a grad student with interests in language and history; a sassy full-figured Puerto Rican girl from Chicago

Click here for the novella, Educating Thalia

Word count: 2415

Warnings:  Language, Adult Situations, NSFW, Dom Tom, spanking, oral sex, fingering, edging, denied orgasm

Summary:  Professor Tom calls Thalia into his office to punish her for her behavior in class

Tom paces like a caged tiger in his office, waiting for the endless ten minutes to pass. When he hears a knock on the door, he dashes behind his desk and sits down, telling himself he needs to retain at least a pretense at control.

“Come in.”

Thalia enters, looking not the least bit remorseful.

“Lock the door,” he orders quietly and sees her eyes widen and darken.

She does as told, then walks to his desk and rests a hand on her broad hip.

“You wanted to see me, Tom?”

He grips the desk hard to keep himself from either snarling at her or kissing her senseless. How about both?

It rubs him the wrong way that she calls him Tom in this situation, but it goes with the defiant lift of her chin and hand on her hip. Why is that a turn-on when he should be mad at her?

Tom swallows, but he can barely keep it together.

“Why are you wearing this?” he barks, gesturing harshly towards her skimpy plaid skirt and the rest of her ball-busting outfit.

Thalia opens her eyes wide, long lashes fluttering.

“Um, why do I wear clothes? Would you rather I came to class naked?”

Despite his emotional state, he can’t help chuckle at that, and her answering grin is way too sexy.

“Naked is always better.” He leans forward, long fingers rubbing his jaw. “In fact, if I could have a say in things, I’d lock you up in a luxury suite and have you spend a whole day parading around in front of me in your birthday suit. Now that would be a sight to behold, don’t you think, darling?”

A flush creeps up her neck, and Thalia sucks in a breath.

Pleased that he’s slowly getting the upper hand again, Tom leans back in his chair and crosses his arms. He has ditched the jacket, wearing only a ratty grey V-neck T-shirt, and he sees her gaze admire the way it stretches across his biceps.

He hasn’t told her to sit down, and he isn’t planning to do so any time soon.

“You know what I mean,” he admonished. “Why the hell did you choose this outfit and let all those wankers ogle you? Didn’t I make myself clear that you’re mine?”

His voices drops into a lower register at the last word, practically growling ‘mine’ because she makes him feel so possessive.

He notices the effect those words have on her, but her defiant expression slips only momentarily. She steps closer and plants her hands on the desk, giving him a view of her cleavage that has him choke back a groan.

“I don’t belong to anyone, Tom. Not in that way.”

He hauls in a deep breath through flaring nostrils, her orchid scent hardening his cock even more.

Fixing her in a stern glare through his glasses, he struggles desperately to keep control. There’s a tiny hint of anger in her voice, which makes him wonder whether he’s gone too far.

“I didn’t mean it like that. But you’ve never been a flirt,” he tries to reason with her. “Why now?”

Thalia straightens up and rolls her eyes, and he’s ever so tempted to put her over his lap and spank her for the rude gesture.

“I swear, Professor Hiddleston, sometimes you’re a bit slow to catch on,” she mutters, and he’s out of his chair and by her side in a flash.

Gripping her chin firmly but not painfully, he jerks her head up and leans so close she can feel his breath on her face.

“Careful, young lady. Have you forgotten who’s made you scream so beautifully and come all over the place?”

Her throat works, and her pupils dilate, but she stands her ground.

“I haven’t forgotten a thing,” she says after a moment, and this time her voice is laced with anger and something else he can’t quite put his finger on. Hurt? Disappointment?

“But it seems you’ve chosen to forget I even exist.” The words come out in a rush, almost as if she’d rather keep them in.

She yanks her chin out of his grip and takes a step back, but Tom follows and cages her in against the desk, like a wild cat stalking his prey.

“What do you mean?” he half-growls, knowing full well what she’s talking about but needing her to admit it.

She makes a frustrated sound and folds her arms over her ample bosom.

“I wore this outfit for you today, believe it or not.” She scoffs, but her eyes tell a different story. “Because I couldn’t stand you ignoring me. I wanted to make you see what you could have if you’d just own up to it.”

Tom’s eyebrows rise before he scowls. He grabs her arms and pulls her into him, gratified when she lets him hug her without any resistance.

“Darling, you have no idea how difficult it was to behave like that, to create a distance between us?  Believe me, if I could, I’d be all over you, all the time. I’d make you wish I would ignore you so you could have a moment to breathe. But we can’t. Surely you understand that.”

He tightens his hold on her, content for a moment to simply embrace her and feel her curves against his hardness. Tugging on her braid, he leans her head back a fraction to gaze into her troubled eyes.

“You want me to own up? Really? And that would get us where exactly? Hm?”

After a moment, she lowers her eyes and sighs. “I know, I just…”

“I understand,” he whispers and rubs her back in a soothing caress.

When he steps away and takes her hands in his, she stares at him full of expectations, and the look in her eyes nearly slays him. God, how he wishes things were different between them, although it’s also a thrill to have this forbidden edge to what they’re doing.

“Never doubt that I want you,” he tells her sincerely. “You’re on my mind all the time, and I want to curse you for the power you wield over me.”

He cups her face, pleased when she leans her cheek into his touch. “Love looks not with the eyes but with the mind,” he quotes from Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream—then wishes he didn’t say it because he’s dropped the l-bomb and it’s totally inappropriate for whatever magical connection they’re sharing.

But as so often, Thalia seems to get what he’s trying to convey.

“Then show me how much you want me,” she says, a husky demand that makes his cock twitch.

Tom rubs his thumb over her lower lip and tugs it down a little. He dips it in further, brushes it over her teeth and the tip of her tongue and watches her eyes grow dark and shiny.

“You want me to show you?”

She nods eagerly, then recalls his earlier instructions and pleads, “Yes, please.”

Jesus, this woman is his undoing.

Tom steps back so abruptly she sways towards him before she catches herself.

“Turn around,” he commands, fighting hard to keep the upper hand, although he wants nothing more than to make her his again and become hers in the process.

“Bend over, arms on the desk, ass in the air.”

Thalia shivers but does as he says. Her position makes her look deliciously compromised, the short skirt baring a flash of red panties.

With a start, Tom realizes that the black tights are gone and he’s been much too preoccupied to notice it earlier. A smirk curls his thin lips.

“You really are a naughty girl.” he says softly, watching her shift and squirm a little. “Couldn’t wait to prance into my office and try your hand at seduction, could you? Are you dying to have my hands on your legs? Or maybe my mouth in between them?”

The only answer he gets is a suppressed whimper, so soft that he almost misses it.

He runs the tips of his fingers over her now bare thigh, first on the outside and then on the inside, almost touching her pantyline.

Thalia shivers. He repeats the teasing movement, letting his nails gently rake over her skin this time.

“Answer me. Are you a naughty girl?”

He can hear her breathing harder. For a moment, she remains silent. Then she replies in a half-defiant, half-needy voice, “Yes. I’ve been naughty…sir.”

Licking his lips, Tom takes a step closer.

“And you know what happens to naughty girls, right?”

Another pause. Will his smart Thalia get what he’s waiting for?

“They…they get punished?”

It comes out sounding like a question, but it’s a huge turn-on nevertheless.

“That’s right,” he whispers darkly.

Carefully controlling himself, Tom leans forward and drapes his body over hers. He pushes his hips up against her, rubbing his bulge against her peachy cheeks. Both of them hiss at the tantalizing friction.

He grabs her braid and pulls her head up and back for a kiss that is passionate and demanding. Biting her lip almost hard enough to cause her pain, he withdraws. After gliding his fingers through her hair and over her nape, using his nails again to awaken goose bumps on her sensitive skin, he pushes her head down so it rests on one forearm.

“Stay exactly like this. I don’t want to hear a sound from you, is that clear?”

“Yes, sir,” she whispers, her lips pressed against her own arm.

Fuck, how is he supposed to keep his wits around her?

Breathing in deeply a few times, he moves away enough to lift her skirt above her ass. He licks his lips at the sight of the gorgeous globes he grabbed so greedily a few days ago. Softly, he brushes his fingertips over the fire-engine-colored material of her panties, then rubs against the seams so he’s barely touching her naked flesh.

“Not a sound,” he repeats his warning, and he can feel her tense, the muscles in her thighs and butt clenching invitingly.

Lifting his arm, he lands a resounding smack on one ass cheek, causing her to rear up with a startled squeaky gasp.

Tom makes a tutting sound and pushes her back down, gently but firmly.

“Not a single sound, Thalia. This is your punishment for being so naughty and making the lecture hell for me to live through.”

He rubs his hand soothingly over the redness of the slapped cheek, although he hasn’t hit her hard enough to leave finger marks.

Waiting until she looks less tense, he lands a slightly harder blow on the other cheek, and this time he can see her bite her forearm to muffle her sound of unwilling arousal.

Oh yes, she’s taking this well. It makes him consider a true spanking, but he reins in his thoughts before his libido will get the better of him.

“And this is punishment for making me have to endure thoughts of you dressed like this for the rest of the day.”

Before she has time to recover, he lands two quick slaps on each ass cheek, grinding out through clenched teeth, “And these are for making it a plaid skirt and knowing damn fucking well what it would do to me.”

Thalia moans softly when he soothes the sting, and he shushes her before squatting down.

“And this,” he says in a gravelly voice before sucking her inner thigh hard enough to leave a mark, “is to show you how much I want you.”

Without warning, he licks her from behind, his tongue gliding over her damp panties.

Thalia bucks against him but keeps quiet, so he gives her another stroke of his tongue over her lace-clad folds. He uses his hands to spread her thighs before nudging the now drenched fabric aside with two fingers.

Leaning in, he blows air onto her wet pussy, chuckling at her full-body shiver. But he can’t deny himself and her the pleasure any longer.

Tom buries his tongue inside her, licking and probing and thrusting until she’s a writhing mass of muffled desperate sounds and he’s so turned on he feels like exploding.

He lifts a hand to press his finger against her engorged clit, not rubbing or stroking but just adding enough pressure to make her stifled whimpers louder. Gone are all thoughts of keeping her quiet or reprimanding her because he’s lost in her taste and the thrill of the moment. Angling his head, Tom lets his tongue delve in as deep as it can get and fucks her with it until she’s clenching around him.

With an obscenely wet sound, he pulls back and gives her one last thorough lick, leaving her hanging right on the brink of orgasm.

For a moment, Thalia remains like this, and he feasts his eyes on her glistening cunt, contracting desperately on nothing.

“Tom, please,” she whines, raising her head. “Oh God, I’m so close, just… please…”

He stands up and wipes his mouth with the back of a hand, quirking an eyebrow at her pleading expression when she looks at him over her shoulder. He likes it that she’s not really daring to move, although she’s defied his order for silence.

“What’s the matter, darling? Do you need something?” he asks, grinning like a Cheshire cat.

Her sound of frustration tempts his resolve, but he steels himself against the urge to please her, knowing that his reward will be glorious later.

“Please, Tom, make me come. I need to… uh, dammit, Tom…”

As if nothing has happened, he brushes her panties into place and tugs her skirt back down, taking extra care to touch her and make matters worse.

“Oh, no, darling, no coming for you just now. You need to be a good girl for me to allow you to climax, and you were far too naughty today.”

He pulls her into a standing position, noticing how weak-kneed and flushed she is. Moving a tendril of hair behind her ear with painful tenderness, he takes her mouth in another passionate kiss so she can taste herself on his tongue.

“Ever heard of delayed gratification, love?” he asks her with a mischievous glint in his blue eyes.

Thalia stares at him, chest heaving. If looks could kill, he’d be dropping dead right about now.

With a chuckle, he smooths his hands over her clothes and yanks on the skirt’s hem so it covers a fraction more of her thighs.

“Now off you go like an obedient little college girl to attend your lectures.”

He turns her around by her shoulders and steers her towards the door. While he leans over to open the lock, he whispers into her ear, “I’ll text you this evening. Be ready at around 8 to go to the address I’m sending you. I promise, I’ll make the waiting worth it, darling.”

Tom steps away from her and opens the door – only to find one of his colleagues, Professor Evans from the history department, standing there with his fist raised to knock.

Thalia lowers her head, half hiding her face as she walks away quickly.

“Remember to have the details ready by tomorrow,” Tom calls after her, hoping to God his voice sounds normal and that the smell of sex between them isn’t evident in the air.

He turns to his colleague Chris and gives him a polite nod.

“Evans.”

The professor with his scruffy jaw and close-cropped hair quirks an eyebrow at him and smirks.

“Hiddleston. Found someone to do all the work for you, have ya?”

Tom is used to jibes from him, so he lets it slide.

“Thalia is…a very special student of mine,” he says in as neutral a tone as he can manage. “Now, how may I help you?”

Click here for Chapter 6, Just a Girl

Copyright © 2017 avenger-nerd-mom. All rights reserved. Intellectual property of avenger-nerd-mom and devikafernando

Lecture Lust

ET ch 4.jpg

Educating Thalia, Chapter 4

Collaboration by @devikafernando & @avenger-nerd-mom

Word count 2056

Warnings: Language, Adult Situations, thoughts of sexual situations, flirtations

Click here for the story page to read all the chapters in the novella,Educating Thalia

Images for cover found on Pinterest

Summary: Professor Tom is a little distracted during his lecture in the presence of his favorite student, Thalia

Thalia sits in Tom’s lecture, smiling brightly as if nothing is wrong.

But it is. So wrong that he wants to rave and rant and not play the role of the British gentleman who’s rumored to love only literature.

After their mind-blowing first night together, Tom managed to sneak in other encounters. He’s had her in his office during his lunch break, where he’s muffled her moans with his huge hand and taken her while she lay spread out on his desk like a buffet to devour.

That was more than a week ago. Although she’s given him obvious please-fuck-me-six-ways-into-the-wind looks during lectures and – whenever they have accidentally or not so accidentally met – licked her plump lips and batted her long lashes at him, Tom has tried to stay away from her.

And it has been hell.

It’s never enough, he needs more of her, even if her taste is still on his tongue and he has nail marks on his biceps where she’s clawed at him during her climax.

She really is his drug, and his attempts at denying her powerful hold on him are laughable. Not only does he take way too many cold showers these days, he’s also thinking of her during the most inappropriate moments.

Like three days ago when they were in the library to research his project and a colleague walked in to use one of the free tables. He was forced to make small talk and ignore the heat of her body on the chair next to his, forget about the lingering orchid smell of her skin, block out the caressing brush of her hair against his cheek when she turned once to show him something.

For the better part of an hour, Tom tried his best to ignore his hard-on and talk in sensible sentences while he wanted nothing more than to run his hand up her thigh and caress her through her jeans. It was torture knowing that she’d be damp and hot between her legs, and that if he rubbed just right, he might coax her into climaxing right there in the library, forced to choke on those moans that were like music to his ears.

He doesn’t know how the hell he’s supposed to deal with this.

Before their first sexual encounter, it was difficult enough, but it was only about subtle signs, wishful thinking and careful innuendos. Now, she seems to be craving more so much that she can’t really control herself around him anymore. She blushes so prettily that he wants to see whether her ass cheeks will look the same inviting shade of red if he brings his palm down on them while he takes her from behind and makes her scream her heart out. She stands a little too close to him, fidgets in her chair when he speaks, as though she remembers what they’ve done and needs to alleviate the longing somehow.

So, Tom does the only thing he can do.

He tries to ignore the special connection between them.

Against his better judgment, he’s given her research to do on her own and not called her into his office again. Where he used to watch her those days, sometimes openly and sometimes without anyone noticing, he focuses on his work or on other students, though they aren’t half as brilliant as she. He forces himself to reply with curt sentences and the polished, polite, typically English way he’s known for, and it breaks his foolish heart in two when he sees that she’s hurt by his cold behavior.

But he can’t help it. Someone in this twisted relationship – if it even is a relationship – needs to keep a cool head, or they’ll risk getting caught.

But fuck, if it isn’t the hardest thing he’s ever needed to do to keep his hands off her and to go to bed alone instead of giving in to the wish to call her and get her off with the sound of his voice whispering dirty things to her.

And over the past few days, he’s watched her withdraw, lose a little of the confidence she’d always radiated. Now, when he catches her looking at him, she seems unsure of herself, and it’s a physical pain low in his gut to see her like this. Does she think he lied to her? That she was merely a good fuck and now he’s tired of her because she isn’t exactly the most experienced woman he’s had?

Tom wants nothing more than to talk to her—okay, okay, he wants to fuck her senseless even more than that, but he truly wishes he could reassure her she’s so much more than what she thinks. Yet it’s better for them to let things cool down a little.

But today, talking is the last thing on his mind. Because she seems to have decided to let him see what he’s missing out on.

Muttering a curse, he asks his students to flip to page 122 and familiarize themselves with the role of women in Shakespeare’s Macbeth—while he can think only of one woman.

A woman who is wearing a red and black Tartan plaid skirt which is even shorter than the one that was his ruin days ago. His throat as dry as the Sahara and his cock as hard as a rock, he watches her cross and uncross those luscious legs. They’re covered in black stockings and look even sexier than he’s seen them before, if that’s even possible.

As if that’s not alluring enough, Thalia is wearing heels today. Nothing over the top that would convey the wrong message, but it’s a change from her usual flats or boots, and it screams “fuck me now, Professor” at him across the auditorium. She’s the living wet dream of every man who ever attended boarding school as a young lad.

Suppressing a groan and entirely unable to concentrate on his notes, he observes her playing with her hair while she’s reading. She glides her fingers through the long, dark tresses, and his hands itch to do the same, to bury inside their silky, scented sweetness while she takes him as deep as she can. Of course, she finishes reading much faster than anybody else, and when she nibbles on her pen before taking notes, he feels like a hormonal teenager who’s going to blow his load over a scandalous image in the Playboy.

Tom jumps up from his chair and turns towards the blackboard so nobody can see the bulge in his pants. Marching to and fro and reciting his notes under his breath, he struggles to get a grip on himself.

When rustling and whispering indicate that most students have finished reading, he turns back—only to gape and stare like a lunatic when he sees her braiding her hair loosely.

How can such a seemingly simple, innocent move make him so bloody hard?

She shifts in her chair and he catches a co-ed ogling her across the corridor, elbowing his neighbor and motioning to her stocking-clad legs in their fantasy-inducing heels.

What the hell?

Keep your cool, Hiddleston, he reminds himself, but he realizes his hands are clenched into fists and he’s fighting the urge to punch the leering dickhead.

Does Thalia know? Is this a show for his benefit, her way of taking revenge for ignoring her when he should’ve been doing the opposite?

At this exact moment, she looks at him and their gazes clash. Slowly, her tongue glides over her lower lip, and his cock twitches enthusiastically, wanting that tongue all over it.

Fucking hell, he’s not going to survive today.

Just imagining her spending the rest of the day attending lectures in her skimpy skirt with the messy braid that exposes her long neck, makes him furious.

Tom adjusts his glasses, knowing that he’s scowling and grinding his teeth but not able to stop himself from reacting so strongly.

“Right, can anyone tell me which woman played the most important role in Macbeth?” he asks, his voice a stern bark that raises a few eyebrows. He’s usually known for his calm authority, for his easy kindness and for his impeccable manners, but he couldn’t care less today.

It’s useless lecturing those frat boys about the importance of women; they don’t have a bloody idea what to do with that knowledge. And the girls? None of them hold any interest for him, although some are intelligent enough to warrant good grades.

He wants only Thalia, and he wants her now, dammit.

Taking his glasses off, he turns them this way and that, blows on them and rubs them against his black jacket in a pretense of normalcy. But his grip is so tight and his control so frail that he’s not too sure he won’t break them.  Shoving them back on he turns to the blackboard and writes in an angry rush, the chalk racing over the surface because he’s itching to bend her over his desk and punish her for tempting him like this.

The lecture drags on, and somehow, he manages not to look at Thalia again and keep his shit together. The students groan at the difficult assignment he gives them.

Jaw clenched, he stuffs his notes into his scuffed, brown leather satchel, debating with himself whether he should meet her today or not.

His head jerks up when he hears a girl call Thalia’s name.

“Hey, a bunch of us were planning to watch the latest Avengers movie tonight and then hang out at the new dance club on Madison Avenue. Ya wanna come?”

He watches her consider the proposal, tugging at the end of her braid.

“Yeah, why don’t you ditch all that boring research and live a little? We could teach you how to have a good time,” one of the boys adds and winks at her.

Tom feels himself go rigid, the grip on his satchel white-knuckled.

Thalia’s gaze flicks to him, and something in her face changes. She stands a little taller, pushing her shoulders back so her tits are on prominent display, the black V-neck sweater stretching over their fullness.

“Sure, why not?”

She smiles at the idiot who can’t drag his eyes up from her boobs to make eye contact.

Tom reacts on autopilot. Before he knows it, he’s crossed the distance and is holding Thalia’s elbow in a possessive grip.

While a tiny voice inside his head asks him what the hell he thinks he’s doing and why he’s gripping her rather too firmly, he hears himself say, “Sorry for interrupting, but I’m afraid that’s not possible.”

He bares his teeth in what is more of a snarl than a polite smile. “Thalia, have you forgotten that we have a meeting concerning another archeological dig tonight?”

Eyes wide, she shoots him a beseeching look that does nothing to make him calm down.

“But Professor, couldn’t that wait until tomorrow? I’m quite a fan of the Avengers, you know? All those hunky heroes? And that villain…”

She lifts an eyebrow saucily while the girl next to her giggles, and he can’t help tugging her closer until he feels her shudder with awareness.

“Sorry,” he says, not sounding the least bit regretful, “it’s a rather urgent matter. Finances, that sort of thing, you know.”

The group of students roll their eyes and lose interest fast, dispersing and muttering among themselves.

Tom pulls Thalia around to face him, noticing her bite her lip.

“My office in ten minutes. If you don’t turn up, I swear to God you’ll regret it,” he growls so lowly that nobody can hear them.

He sees the pulse at her throat leap at his words. She pulls her arm free and smooths a nervous hand down that damn skirt.

“Yes, sir.”

Before she turns away, he catches the hint of a smile tugging on her mouth, and he wonders briefly whether this is exactly the reaction she’d been hoping for.

To hell with decorum and taking things slow, he wants to blow all caution to the wind and keep her with him for the rest of the day and all of the night.

Her ass sways when she walks away, the heels making her calves tighten in a way that should be illegal.

Tom knows the next ten minutes will be brutal…

Click here to read Chapter 5, Naughty Girl

Story updates are posted on Wednesdays and Sundays.

Copyright © 2017 avenger-nerd-mom. All rights reserved. Intellectual property of avenger-nerd-mom and devikafernando

Good Girl

ET chap 3.jpg

Good Girl

Educating Thalia, Chapter 3

Collaboration by @devikafernando & @avenger-nerd-mom

Word count 2561

Warnings: Language, Adult Situations, NSFW, glasses kink (it’s a thing!),  blow job, fingering, nipple play, intercourse, Dom Tom

Summary: Professor Tom and grad student, Thalia Bareo, retreat to the privacy of his office

Click here for previous chapter, Library Seductions

His hands are shaking when he fumbles with the key to unlock the door. Bloody hell, it’s as though she’s seduced him and not the other way round.

As soon as they’re inside, Tom closes the door and pushes her against it.

“You have to forgive me,” he says, registering the surprise on her face.

“But…but I wanted it,” she stutters.

With a smirk, he grabs her hands and braces them against the cool wood above her head.

“Oh, not for making you come. I intend to do that a few times more before I’m done with you.”

A new blush stains her freckled cheeks and he follows the color with the tip of his tongue.

“What I mean is I should have done this first.”

Before she can respond, he takes her mouth in a demanding kiss.

She opens for him immediately, and he slides his tongue inside to seek hers out.

Holding her hands above her head with a grip around her wrists, he lets his free hand snake between their bodies to cup a full breast. The tips are hard peaks beneath the fabric, begging to be pinched and sucked.

He rubs his thumb over and around one nipple, making her buck against him. Deepening the kiss, he gets high on her unique taste again.

Damn it all, finesse is going out the window with her.

Reining himself in with enormous willpower, Tom slows the kiss to a sensual dance and glide of tongues while he kneads a breast. He takes her bottom lip between his teeth and tugs softly before resting his forehead against hers.

“God, Thalia, what you do to me. I want you so badly.”

She rubs herself against him. “I want you too, Tom. I’ve been dreaming of this for months.”

The admission has her lower her long lashes, but it only makes him even harder.

Stepping back, he holds out his hand. When she grabs it, their fingers interlacing as if it is the most natural thing in the world, he leads her further into the room, hitting the light switch because he wants to really look at her.

His office is surprisingly big, holding a desk with chairs, some shelves and old leather sofas, and an artificial fireplace with a rug. He pulls her over to its warm glow.

“Strip for me, love. I need to see you in all your curvy beauty.”

He can almost hear her thoughts, sees a flicker of uncertainty in her chocolate-brown eyes. His fingertips brush over her cheek and throat before diving into the hint of exposed cleavage.

“You do know you’re stunning, don’t you? I could look at you all day and come up with a dozen dirty things I’d like to do to you.”

His gravelly whisper echoes in the silence of the room, and she reacts with a shiver.

Slowly, she pulls her sweater over her head, leaving her in a pink lace-and-satin bra that can barely contain her big breasts. She opens the front clasp and the plump globes fall out, making him suppress a groan. It takes all of his self-control not to ravish her.

Biting her lip, Thalia shimmies out of her skirt, and he can’t help but ogle her for a minute.

So. Fucking. Beautiful.

Like those old paintings of women who had real bodies and were built to be loved so thoroughly they couldn’t walk for days.

“Gorgeous,” he breathes, seeing the flush spread from her face all over her tanned body with its dips and curves begging to be explored.

She doesn’t cover herself, and it pleases him oddly that she isn’t as shy as she could have been.

“You next.” It’s more of a request than an order, but he complies with an eagerness that surprises him. Her naturally husky voice sounds even sultrier right now, as if she’s letting out a side of herself that is wild and free, enticing and purely feminine. Begging to be tamed, yet essentially untameable.

In a flash, he’s shrugged out of his sweater. He takes his glasses out of the pocket to put them aside safely on a nearby armrest.

“Tom… I… would you…” Thalia falters and blushes an even deeper shade of red.

Interesting.

“Darling, what is it? Talk to me. Never be afraid to share anything with me.”

She swallows hard and meets his gaze only for a moment.

“Would you…leave the glasses on for a bit?”

Whoa. Did she have a glasses kink? Holy shit, she was even hotter than he’d imagined.

“Like that, hm?” He quirks an eyebrow at her. “Okay, but you’ll have to be an extra good girl for me then, do you understand?”

She nods so eagerly it would have been comical in a different situation.

“What did I tell you, love? I need to hear you.”

“Yes, sir,” she replies quickly. “I’ll be a really good girl.”

Her words travel straight to his cock, making him rock-hard.

Tom puts his glasses on and leans over to kiss her until she’s moaning and restless in his arms. Then he takes a step back again and moves his hands to his belt. Slowly, he unbuckles it, then unzips his jeans and pulls them down.

Keeping his white boxers on, he bridges the distance between them to embrace her and kiss her senseless. He takes one of her hands and places it over his bulge, the tip of his cock peeking out over the top of the boxers. She slides her finger over it and rubs the drop of precum over the tip, and Tom sucks in a ragged breath.

He pushes her shoulders and she gets the message, sinking to her knees on the carpet.

God, he likes that sight entirely too much.

“Take them off,” he commands softly, his muscles tensing when her fingers dip under the waistband and lower his underwear so he can step out of it.

Before he can draw a breath, much less say anything, he feels her wet, hot mouth on his cock. She encircles the broad tip and gives it an experimental suck, and he realizes he’s cursing a blue streak. When she lets go to run her tongue up his impressive length instead, he fists his hands in her hair and pulls her forward.

“Taste me.”

She obeys, lowering her mouth down over him again, taking him far but not to her throat.

Once, twice, three times, he moves her up and down by her hair before tugging her head away.

He’s way too eager to be inside her for this to go on for long.

“Good girl.”

She presses her thick thighs together at that, as if his words make her throb.

Without wasting another moment, Tom joins her on the floor. He spreads out their clothes and makes her lie back.

“God, those tits are amazing, darling,” he purrs, taking the heavy globes in his hands and nuzzling them. “Made for being fondled and sucked and bitten.”

He proceeds to do just that, earning himself breathless gasps and tiny mewling sounds, making him impossibly harder for her.

Thalia hooks a leg around his waist to draw him closer, her hips rising to meet his. Tom lets a hand drift down to tug softly at her trimmed, damp curls before sliding his fingers through her folds and finding her swollen clit.

“Let’s get you ready, darling. I need you to be able to take all of me.”

Sucking her dark nipples in earnest, Tom slides a finger inside her. He keeps up a steady rhythm, adding another finger and then another. Curling them, he searches for the magical spot that will make her see stars.

She’s bucking and moaning beneath him, her head tossing from side to side.

When she suddenly freezes and shouts out a single, heartfelt “fuck”, he knows he’s found her G-spot. Chuckling darkly, he angles his fingers so they brush over it again and again while he starts rubbing tight circles over her clit.

“Let go for me, love,” he growls. “I want to hear my name when you come apart.”

He keeps the torture up until she’s a panting mess, his name rushing out in ragged pleas. When he presses down harder on her little bud while sinking his teeth into a nipple, Thalia clamps a hand over her mouth and comes with a muffled scream.

Tom soothes her through her second climax, slowing his movement and licking her breasts. He withdraws and scrapes his teeth over her collarbone before kissing her.

When he draws back, she whimpers her protest and reaches for him, her eyes snapping open.

“Tom?  Please, I…I need more.”

“I’ll give you more, darling, don’t you worry. So much more. Just a second.”

After removing his glasses, he bends towards his pants, takes out his wallet and returns to her side with a condom. He can feel her eyes on him like burning flames when he sheathes himself.

Settling himself between her thighs, he holds her face in one hand and stares into her eyes.

“You’re mine,” he says, his voice low and deep, but not as steady as he would have liked it because he’s crazy with need. “Mine.”

Tom nudges his way in, hissing at her tightness. Thalia gasps and claws at his shoulders, her hips bucking up to take another inch of him. He knows his size can be a bit overwhelming, so he starts out with shallow thrusts, slowly working his way deeper. As soon as there is less resistance, he grabs her thigh and bends her leg so he can plunge in to the hilt.

“Ah… Tom… ohgodohgodohgod…”

He grinds his teeth against the urge to pound into her and sets a steady, torturing rhythm. Her body moves in sync with his and she leans up for a kiss that he gives her all too willingly.

When he’s sure he’ll go raving mad if he can’t lose control soon, Tom shifts and grinds as deep as he can get, his pelvis providing friction against her clit.

“Oh, fuck… Oh god… yes… More!”

Thalia is becoming more and more vocal, and he loves it. Clenching his jaw so tightly it’s painful, he tries to keep up the punishing pace. Dammit, with the way she is clenching around him, he isn’t going to last much longer.

Snaking a strong arm around her, he rolls them over until he’s on his back and she’s straddling him.

Holy shit, the sight of her like this is even better than of her writhing beneath him and begging for more.

“Ride me, darling.”

He pushes his hips up a little to sink back into her, making them both moan.

But she’s motionless on top of him, her hair a wild mane around her and her lips swollen from his kisses. She doesn’t have to speak, he can sense her uncertainty.

Again, he wonders how much experience she might or might not have.

Tom sits up and rubs his face against her breasts, knowing that his five o’clock shadow – make that a ten o’clock shadow – would be tickling and scratching the sensitive skin just the right way. He licks a pebbled nipple before giving it a nip and feeling her clamp down on him.

Grasping her chin in one hand, he forces her to look at him through heavy lids.

“Don’t be shy, Thalia. You’re a drop-dead gorgeous, sensual woman. You’re allowed to take too, not just give. This isn’t about me getting off, this is about us finding all kinds of ways to pleasure each other.”

He kisses her, and she immediately pushes her tongue into his mouth, whimpering softly – probably torn between what her body instinctively wants and what her brain tells her.

“I want you to forget everything you’ve done before, forget every boy who made you think you’re not enough and every moment in which you doubted yourself. Do you hear me? Focus only on us and let the real you out. Can you be a good girl for me and do that?”

He lifts his hips a fraction again, sliding deeper with a groan.

“Yes.” The one word is a drawn-out sigh, and one of her hands fists in his short hair to drag his head back to her heaving bosom.

With a secret smile, Tom slicks his tongue over a nipple before sucking so hard it will lace pleasure with a hint of pain. Thalia makes a strangled sound and tugs at his hair.

He lies back down and rests his hands on her ample hips, which will be perfect for him to dig his fingers into once she lets her inner cowgirl out.

“Ride me, love,” he commands quietly again.

This time, she starts moving, and it’s every bit as tantalizing as he’d hoped for. Slow grinding motions turn into something more frenzied quickly, and soon she’s undulating her body and sinking down on his cock as if her life depends on it.

“Fuck, darling, that’s it,” he grinds out huskily. “Take it all. Ride me into oblivion and make yourself come all over my cock. You look amazing like this, with your luscious, big tits bouncing.”

She moans louder, one hand going to a breast to pinch an engorged nipple.

Oh yes, his darling girl likes a bit of dirty talk, as if she couldn’t get any more perfect.

He’s dying to take control again, but this is almost better, seeing her discover her hidden sexual confidence and knowing that he’s the cause for her awakening.

He enlaces her fingers with his and pulls her hand to his face where he sucks two fingers into his mouth to wet them. Then he brings their joined hands to her cunt and rubs her clit.

Her lips part on a scream, and she’s as tight as a vice around his cock.

She lowers her gaze to watch their fingers circling and pressing, and her movements become faster, her whimpers more desperate. When she throws her head back, chokes out his name and lets go, it’s a sight he’s certain he’ll never forget.

Digging his hands into her love handles, he slams up into her and rides out her climax, which triggers his.

It takes him a moment to come back down to earth. Fucking hell, he can’t remember coming so hard in ages.

Shifting, he gathers Thalia’s now limp, sweaty body closer and pulls her to lie by his side, facing one another.

“That…that was amazing,” she sighs, wide eyes seeking his.

Tom smiles and brushes moist strands of hair out of her face.

You were amazing,” he corrects her before kissing her sweetly.

He tries his best to shove the satisfied exhaustion away because there’s something he needs to say.

“Thalia, I want you to know that you’re not just some convenient lay for me. Not at all. You’re special.”

The light in her eyes urges him on. “I read this somewhere once, and I firmly believe in it: ‘In the hands of the right man, a woman is a hundred different women, limited only by imagination and his willingness to make her feel safe and lead her.’”

Pulling her even closer, he whispers, “I want to be that man for you. I’ll make you discover all those hundred women inside you and learn to love them.”

Click here for Chapter 4, Lecture Lust

Copyright © 2017 avenger-nerd-mom. All rights reserved. Intellectual property of avenger-nerd-mom and devikafernando

 

Library Seductions

ch 2 library seductions mar 12 2017

Educating Thalia

Chapter 2: Library Seductions

a collaboration by @devikafernando and avenger-nerd-mom

AU fiction

Word count 2548

Warnings: Language, Adult Situations, NSFW, Sexual acts in public, fingering, oral sex, power of authority

summary:  Professor Tom Hiddleston and a university student, Thalia Bareo, share an encounter in the library late on a Friday night.

Click here for Chapter 1 “Late Night Reading”

Tom watches from a few feet away how Thalia scans the rows of books on the shelves for the one she needs. Her fingers run over the spines in a soft caress, and damn him if his mind doesn’t wander straight into the gutter again.

She finds her book on the top row and stretches to grab it. Although she is tall, she can’t quite reach it. With a muttered curse, she lifts onto her tippy toes, bracing herself against the shelf with one hand while reaching for the book with her other hand.

The gentleman in him wants to rush over and take it down for her—but the other part of him that he rarely lets out is enjoying the view far too much to intervene.

The move makes her short denim skirt ride up so high that it exposes a good deal of thigh and barely covers her peachy ass.

God, how he loves her luscious legs. They are long and shapely with generous thighs. He wants to grab them, wants to sink his teeth into the tanned flesh. He wants them wrapped around his waist while he fucks her to kingdom come.

It is such a huge turn-on for him that she isn’t self-conscious about her voluptuous body and doesn’t starve herself to death. He loves eating and is never guilty about his pleasures, and she is exactly the same.

His cock twitches at a memory: While working on research at the birthplace of Shakespeare, in Stratford-Upon-Avon, England, he once took her out to dinner to a fancy restaurant. The young student had apologized repeatedly for her appearance, saying she hadn’t packed many clothes other than what she’d need at the archeological dig site. He thought she’d looked so fetching in her cream colored sundress, the fabric dotted with tiny flowers in pinks and purples. The dress hung over her curves beautifully and whenever he could catch a glimpse his eyes would wander down over her exposed cleavage, wishing to be lost there, down her curvy legs, hiding his laughter at her little white tennis shoes. She enjoyed a hearty meal, making tiny noises of appreciation at the delicious food that traveled straight to his groin. Jesus, he’d barely survived the dessert when she had moaned softly while indulging in sinfully tasty mousse au chocolat. He had a hell of a time trying to hide his hard-on, and jerked himself off that night to the mental images of her voluptuous figure and that delectably pouty mouth of hers moaning around his cock.

Tom shifts, feeling his pants become uncomfortably tight.

Thalia lowers herself back down, casting him a look over her shoulder that turns from slightly confused and annoyed to teasing when she catches him staring at her ass. The tiniest of satisfied smirks curves her lips before she turns back to flip through the book for the reference she needed.

He swallows convulsively, unable to tame the hunger inside him.

What would she taste like if he gave in to his forbidden desires? Would she be vocal? God, he needs a taste of her so badly.

If he gets her out of his system, surely it will make things easier for him.

Who’s he kidding, she would probably be so addictive that he’d never want to stop.

She seems engrossed in reading. Tom stalks closer, standing behind her, and grasps the hem of her skirt, which hasn’t lowered properly on one side. He tugs it down and leans forward to whisper into her ear.

“You should wear skirts more often, Thalia.”

He feels her freeze, so close that her body’s heat seeps into his although he isn’t touching her.

“Why?” Her voice is slightly breathy. “So that all the frat boys can ogle me? No, thanks.”

His hand goes to her waist of its own volition, gripping it none too gently.

“No.”

He is startled by his own response, the one word a threatening growl. He doesn’t want her to be ogled by those immature, salivating fools who don’t know how to treat a fantastic woman like her. She is his to look at, to… To what?

She flinches at his tone, and it makes her ass brush against him.

Tom clenches his jaw and loosens his grip, but keeps his hand on her curvy waist. He can’t help himself, he has to lean even closer.

Brushing his lips ever so softly over the shell of her ear, he whispers darkly, “They are not worthy of your attention. They don’t know what the hell to do to please a woman. You need a real man, someone who worships you, who owns you and lets you own him.”

Her pulse is fluttering frantically at her throat, the only part of her body moving as she holds herself still with a white-knuckled grip on the book.

He presses against her lush body and nuzzles her neck, eliciting a shiver. So responsive. Oh yes, she wants this too.

“Wear skirts for yourself. Because you look ravishing in them. Because you have the figure and confidence to pull the look off.”

Tom grabs her elbow and slowly turns her around, which makes their bodies rub against each other in all sorts of torturous ways.

“And wear them for me,” he adds, his tone half-demanding, half-begging. “Because you’re driving me out of my ever-loving mind with those beautiful legs.”

He gazes deeply into her eyes, noticing her dilated pupils. “You make me want to be between them and please you until they tremble so hard you can’t stand anymore.”

Her breath leaves her in a whoosh, and she loses her grip on the book. It thuds to the floor, the dull sound when it hits the carpet seeming loud in the stillness of the half-dark, deserted library.

His eyes never leaving hers, Tom sinks to his knees in front of her. One hand goes to the book, but when her eyes widen at the sight of him kneeling like this, at perfect height for all kinds of naughty things, he changes his plan.

His hands creep up to her thighs, fingers dipping into the waistband to softly tug the T-shirt out and expose a sliver of skin. He leans forward and presses his lips to below her belly button, then flicks his tongue inside it.

Thalia hisses, her hands curling into fists next to her body.

“If you don’t want this, tell me to stop,” he forces out in a hoarse whisper, his head spinning because he can smell her arousal.

She shudders again and closes her eyes for a moment. Her mouth opens, but no sound comes out. Her tongue darts out to wet her lips, and the sight of them all plump and glistening has him suppress a groan. God, she is so ripe and inviting. It’s a miracle he’s been able to resist her for so long.

When she opens her eyes to lock gazes with him and remains silent, he takes that as a signal to go on.

After nuzzling the soft roundness of her belly and giving her a parting nip which elicits a gasp, he moves his attention further south.

His hands travel up her calf, massaging her flesh tenderly, then tickling the sensitive spot behind her knees. He scoots forward a fraction and pushes her legs apart. Sliding up her thighs, he presses into her flesh off and on, feeling how tense she is. He pulls her skirt up along the way but doesn’t expose her panties.

Tom rubs his scruffy cheek against her upper thigh, close to where she wants him but not giving in yet. His fingers slide higher, brushing butterfly-soft against the fabric of her panties.

Damn, she is damp for him. He inhales, her intoxicating scent driving him crazy.

“When’s the last time someone went down on you, my beautiful girl?” he asks softly, brushing his thumbs teasingly over the cotton-covered folds of her cunt.

He lifts his gaze to her flushed face, her lips parted and her eyes gleaming with desire.

“I… I’m not sure. A few months maybe?”

Her voice is husky and soft, and he’d give anything to hear her say his name in that tone, to hear her beg him for more.

“Entirely too long ago. Perhaps it’s my duty to refresh your memories on how a real man pleases a woman, hm?”

“God, yes.”

Her answer is instant yet so low he could barely hear it.

His cock twitches, wanting in on the fun. But he can have his fill later. First, he needs her to come all over his hands and mouth.

He slips his fingers beneath the waistband of her panties.

“These need to go,” he commands.

He pulls them down and she steps out of them with shaky legs, watching with wide eyes as he sniffs the damp fabric before slipping it into his pocket.

Tom removes his glasses next before spreading her legs wider. He presses an open-mouthed kiss to her upper thigh, moving higher and nipping her skin before soothing the spot with the tip of his tongue.

A half-suppressed moan is his reward, hardening his cock even further.

“God, I can’t wait to taste you. I bet you’re delicious,” he rasps.

He nuzzles her thigh, drags his mouth higher for another kiss, so close to her wet heat that his breath fans over it and causes her to tense.

When he licks her from bottom to top, she makes a soft mewling sound.

Hell yes, she’d be a screamer if he got her alone and in his bed, he just knows it.

Her tangy-sweet taste explodes on his tongue, and he dives in deeper with a groan.

With one strong hand on her thigh, he holds her steady while he lets the fingers of his other hand part her folds to grant him better access.

Slowly, slowly, he feasts on her, torturing her and himself with the gentle flicks of his tongue and humming noises coming from low in his chest.

“Yes… right there… Oh, please…”

Her whines spur him on.

He feels her grab a fistful of his hair and pull him to her, bucking her hips for more.

With a tutting sound he draws back slightly, taking in her flushed face. Her head is thrown back, her throat exposed, her eyes squeezed shut.

“No, no, no,” he scolds in the sternest tone he can muster. “No rushing. I’m in control.”

Her eyes flutter open, two deep pools of darkness.

“Please,” she begs again, and it nearly is his undoing.

“Hands behind you on the shelf,” he orders, sliding the hand on her thigh back to grab an ass cheek and keep her in position.

She moves her hands as instructed, holding onto the wood as if her life depends on it. “Yes, sir.”

Tom freezes at her words. He sees her own surprise at what she blurted out, reacting instinctively to his authority.

Fuck, it’s such a turn-on.

“Good girl,” he growls. “Now keep them there and I’ll reward you.”

She nods eagerly, licking her lips again.

“Eyes on me, Thalia. Don’t close them, do you hear me? Watch me. I want you to know that it’s me who’s making you see stars. I want you to remember this every time you sit in one of my lectures and look all prim and proper.”

She whimpers softly again, as though his words are turning her on as much as his caresses.

Lord in heaven, she’s driving him crazy.

Taking a deep breath, he leans in and licks her in earnest, lapping up her juices and reveling in the little sounds she makes.

Tom moves and bends her leg so she can brace a foot against the shelf. Spreading her even wider for his mouth, he takes his time to explore her folds and see what gets the loudest reactions out of her.

When she’s begging him in a breathless litany of pleas and profanities, he finally goes for her clit while sliding two long fingers inside her at the same time.

It doesn’t take long for her to come, keening and bucking and cursing so beautifully that he’s half-afraid he’ll blow his load in his pants.

For a while, all that’s heard is her labored breathing, mingled with his harsh pants. Tom waits for her to open her eyes. When she focuses on him with the most beautiful sated and slightly dazed expression on her flushed face, he grins at her and licks his lips.

With deliberate slowness, he pulls his fingers out of her drenched cunt, causing her to clench around him one last time and moan lowly.

Tom straightens up and lifts his glistening fingers to her mouth.

“So fucking gorgeous,” he growls. “Open up for me, love.”

Thalia obediently parts her lips, and he pushes the two digits inside.

“Clean me up like a good girl,” he orders and feels her shiver.

Holding his gaze, she begins to suck, swirling her tongue around his fingers.

Christ, he’s never seen anything hotter. He wants his cock inside her mouth, but he still isn’t sure how far he can take this.

Hell, he shouldn’t be doing any of this, but it’s as he’s predicted: Now that he’s had a taste of her, he can’t get enough.

Forcing himself to let go of the warm wetness with its tugging motions that shoot straight to his groin, he moves in closer. He needs to be inside her. The urge is so strong it’s an actual physical pain.

“Are you ready for more, darling? Think you can handle a real man?”

He pushes between her spread legs and grinds his bulge against her, making them both gasp.

She arches against him, prying a hand loose from the shelf to fist it in his sweater.

Leaning closer, he licks a bead of sweat from her neck before trailing kisses up to her ear.

“This was only the beginning,” he whispers darkly. “Will you let me have you? I promise I’ll take such good care of you that sex will never be the same for you.”

When he draws back slightly, still rubbing himself against her and wishing they were naked, her eyes are wide and she’s digging her teeth into her lip. She nods.

Tom stops grinding, his heart pounding a mile an hour at the thought of finally doing to her what he’d been dreaming of for so long.

“I need to hear you say it, darling. Yes or no? Will you be mine?”

Her throat works when she’s trying to swallow. “Yes.” It’s a breathy whisper. She clears her throat. “Yes, I will be yours, Professor.”

Fuck, she’s too sexy for her own good.

He closes his eyes for a moment because he’s damn near to losing his last modicum of control and taking her up against the shelf.

“My office,” he grounds out.

With effort, he steps away. While she straightens her clothes and her mussed hair, he adjusts his painfully tight pants and takes deep breaths.

“You’re going to have to walk in front of me, can’t risk being seen like this,” he says with an apologetic grin.

She glances down at the prominent bulge and licks her lips, and he all but loses it.

“Office. Now.”

As before, the stern tone of authority works. She starts walking, still a little dazed and not with the vibrant energy he’s come to associate with her.

Tom keeps a hand at the small of her back and stays behind her while they make it through the empty library and across the dimly lit corridor. With a glance left and right, he reassures himself that they’re all alone. He has no idea how he’d react if they were caught, he’s too far gone for rational thinking.

Click here for Chapter 3 Good Girl

Copyright © 2017 avenger-nerd-mom. All rights reserved. Intellectual property of avenger-nerd-mom and devikafernando

Late Night Snack

late night snack march 11 2017.jpg

Late Night Snack

An Emery&Chris story

By avenger-nerd-mom

Emery catches Chris in the kitchen late at night in their Savannah home.  They share a few memories and a late night treat.

Warnings: Language, Fluff, NSFW, fingering, oral sex, pregnant sex

Word count: 1549

March 2019

Chris!  Chris!  Where are you?

Her voice carries through the house and he knows he’s gonna get busted.  He can hear her moving closer, but he doesn’t care.  If he’s gonna get caught at the end of a long work day, so be it.  He continues his chat with his mother, slumped against the cabinet door.  He looks down at the bowl of cereal in his hand, knowing it’s growing mushier by the minute.

His jaw drops when his beautiful wife rounds the corner into the kitchen.  Stunned speechless for a moment, he clears his throat and says, “Uh, Ma, yeah-Ma. Listen.  Listen-I gotta let you go.  Uh- huh; yeah. Everything’s fine; I’ll call you tomorrow… Yup, uh-huh, Ma!  Ok, bye.”

Chuckling, he sheepishly looks up at the glare on Emery’s face.

“What is that?” she asks sharply.

He looks at the bowl of mush.  “It was supposed to be a late night snack, but Ma texted so I called her back and now it’s just a bowl of mess in warm milk.  Too bad the cat’s at home in Boston with Shanna; she’d love this treat.”  Stirring the slop with his spoon, he bites back his laughter.  “So, uh… what’s this fashion statement you got going on?”

Leaning against the fridge, Emery wears nothing but a skimpy pair of underwear, rested under her protruding belly and one of his dress shirts.  The sleeves are rolled up to her elbows and the two buttons are ready to pop open over her full round breasts.  She looks down and tenderly rubs her pregnant belly.  “All of a sudden nothing fits,” she pouts.  “All the good clothes are in Boston.”

“Oh babe, I’m sorry.”  Setting the bowl of cereal next to him, he reaches his hand out to her.  She takes a few steps across the small kitchen, grasping and squeezing his fingers lovingly. “Take the credit card and go shopping with Tammy and Katie tomorrow?  That’s why you wanted to come down to Georgia with me anyway, right?  To see friends and family while I finish the new project?”

Nodding her head side to side, she contemplates the idea.  She tugs her fingers through his longer hair.  “Did you bring me some?”  She taps the side of the cereal box with her toe.

“You know I think it’s disgusting, but yes, Cap is in the cabinet.  I got your four texts.”  He smiles at her craving for peanut butter Captain Crunch.  It’s one of two things she’s eaten and been able to keep down for the last few months.  “I’m just glad it wasn’t another steak.  You keep this up, we might need to go into ranching,” he teases playfully, accepting the glass of water she’s fixed and hands down to him.

“Moooo…”  she giggles.  “Oh, fuck.  I just got this image of you, wearing what you’ve got on right now, riding a horse and roundin’ up cattle.  Shit.  Buy a damn farm.  I need that fangirl fantasy.”

“Oh, you do, do you?”  He runs his hand up her thigh, more full and developed with her pregnancy.  The weight gain looks good on her, but she keeps telling him to quit lying.  But he’s so turned on by his beautiful wife and the changes she’s gone through while carrying their child.  So full of sass still, but somehow softer.  Sexier.  “I’m sorry I woke you.  I was just gonna grab a bite to eat and crawl in bed with you.”  His fingers tease across the elastic band of her panties around her thigh and she shifts her weight to allow him more access to the space between her legs.  She moans quietly.  Head back to look up at her, he can see she is lost in thought, staring out the back window over the sink.

“Whatchya thinking about babe?”  He pushes his fingertip under the elastic, running across the fresh stretch marks on her pale skin.

Emery chuckles quietly.  “Remember one night you were filming and called to take me out to dinner?  The night of our first fight?  When you called, I was sitting right where you are now.  Just like that.  Legs crossed, head back against the counter…”  She looks down and their blue eyes meet.  “Can you believe I was thinking about breaking up with you?  Was thinking it wasn’t worth your crazy schedule and all the cancelled dinners; god, what a stupid mistake that would have been!”

“Kitten, I have always trusted in your intelligence to do the right thing; to make the right choices for us.  Really glad you didn’t dump me that night…”  Sliding his fingers to her sweet spot he can feel the heat coming from her and her scent is overwhelming.  Chris realizes how much he needs her; how much he’s always needed her.  He shudders at the thought she could have walked away all those years ago…

“Me too, Jellybean, me too.”  As his fingertips push aside her panties to tease her, she steps closer to him.  “So, about that late night snack you wanted?”

“Mmm-hm?” he asks, tugging down on the blue lace as she steps out of them and over him to put her pussy right in his face.

“You can eat now,” she laughs, resting her elbows on the counter and straddling over him, her pregnant belly brushing the top of his head.

“That’s my girl,” he growls, licking her from top to bottom.  Her taste is sweeter now, different, better than before.  Pregnancy changed her, changed the two of them.  They’ve grown closer together and are working to enjoy the last two months they have as just a couple before they become parents.

His tongue works over her and he knows she doesn’t take long now.  Chris has loved the benefits of her increased sex drive.  Mark and RDJ had warned him and teased him about it, but he sure as hell hadn’t believed it would be like this. In her position above him, with one hand he teases over her ass, and with the other, he tugs on his belt and frees himself from the confines of his jeans.

“I know what you’re doing,” Emery giggles, her sweet Southern accent a light lilt in the quiet night.  “I can’t see over this damn baby bump, but I am gonna take care of you when you finish me, I promise.”

With his tongue, he slides out of her hole and presses a kiss to her swollen lower lips.  Feeling the goosebumps raise on her flesh he murmurs against her sensitive spot, “Mmm-hm.  I’ve heard that before.”

His tongue dives back in and both hands slide up over her ass, gasping her hips to glide her on and off, his nose pushing against her clit and his beard scraping against the soft flesh between her legs.  Her juice is thicker and soaks him, as he tries to lap it all up.  Her cries bounce off the countertops and he catches her when her knees give way and she comes.  He slows with her and feels the sweat on her body, not realizing himself how hard they had worked for that release.  Slowly withdrawing from her intimate depths, he bathes his tongue over her cautiously collecting all of her succulence, not wanting to waste a single drop. He blows his breath coolly across her lower belly while she grumbles quietly the house is hot.  Pressing his lips to her tummy he whispers, “I’m glad you make her horny now, cause three months from now, you’ll steal all our private time. But I love you anyway!”

Emery giggles and rubs the top of Chris’s head.  “My legs are jelly.  Can you carry me to bed?”

She steps over him and rights herself against the counter.  Sweeping her into his arms, he ignores the pop in his knees.  Covering his face with kisses as they walk through the living room, he chuckles when they reach the bedroom.  The mountain of pillows it requires these days to help her get comfortable for sleep leaves little room for him in this bed.  He loves they kept the little house in Savannah, but he longs to get home to their big bed in Boston.

Resting one knee up on the bed, he lays her down gently.  In the dark, she tells him, “It’s too hot in this damn house, if you wanna finish fucking me, go turn on the air conditioner.”

Bossy little thing; but damn that teacher voice…  Gets him every time.  He doesn’t even admit to her he’s too tired to do it tonight.  He never would have thought she could ever wear him out.  Climbing off the side of the bed, he tells her, “You know, they never say that in the porn.”

“Well if they did, if it was more real, maybe I’d watch it with you more often.  ‘The’ porn?” She giggles. “Go.  I’m serious.  I’ll fuck you, baby, when you get back, but you gotta turn on the air.  It’s too hot in the house.”  He kisses her forehead as she struggles to take off his shirt she’s wearing and he goes out to adjust the thermostat, knowing she’ll be sound asleep by the time he gets back to the bed, after he’s had his cereal.

Copyright © 2017  avenger-nerd-mom.  All rights reserved. Intellectual property of avenger-nerd-mom

 

Late Night Reading

Educating Thalia

Chapter 1: Late Night Reading

Word Count 2545

Warnings: Fluff, language, adult situations, mention of death, thoughts of sexual situations

Summary: Professor Tom Hiddleston runs into his favorite student working late in the library  one Fall evening


Tom hums softly to himself as he strides through the empty library. It’s way past the time when everyone leaves, but he loves having the deserted, half-dark place to himself. It’s in these quiet hours that he finds and grounds himself in this hectic world through his love for books.

Slowly, he walks towards the back of the place where chairs, bean bags and desks are included among the shelves with non-fiction books hardly anyone ever gives any attention.

A hollow thunk and the shuffling of papers halts him in his tracks. His eyebrow quirked, he listens for more sounds. Who would be here at this time of night when every normal college student is huddled on a sofa to watch TV or out partying?

A sudden image flashes in his mind of a curvy, tanned woman with long dark hair and the most vivacious smile he’s ever seen. Could it be her? He knows she is one of those who never rests either. On many nights, she works at a bar on the other side of town, and on other nights, she buries herself in books.

Tom rounds the corner, the sound of his long strides muffled by the carpet.

Yes, it’s her. Thalia.

What a lovely name for a woman like her. He smiles to himself, wondering whether she knows that Thalia was one of the nine Muses. The one responsible for comedy and pastoral poetry, no less. Is she aware that her name derives from the ancient Greek “to blossom?” But she’s no timid blossom. She’s an exotic hot-house orchid already in fragrant bloom and tempting only those men who know how to handle someone like her. Despite her age, she isn’t a girl, but much more mature. All woman. A woman he damn well shouldn’t feel so attracted to…

Pausing in the doorway, Tom allows himself a moment to look his fill. He leans against the doorframe, crossing his arms and slowly rubbing a finger over his lips.

Thalia is sitting on one of the beanbags, and his throat goes dry at the sight of her legs with their luscious thighs. She’s wearing a short denim skirt and a rose colored t-shirt, the temperature in the library toasty enough to chuck her jacket which lies on the floor next to her. Her little white tennis shoes still cling to the Indian summer weather and remind him of their days working together in England.  Her curly hair falls over one shoulder. She tilts her head a little to read something, and he wants nothing more than to march over and lavish her exposed neck with kisses, licks and bites.

God, how many times has he fantasized about doing things to her that he fucking well shouldn’t? How many times has he jerked himself off to sultry images of her, to the imagined sound of her naturally husky voice with the teeniest bit of Latina accent?

Inhaling deeply, Tom tries to calm himself somewhat.

It is wrong to find her so attractive, but she’s irresistible with her mix of confidence, caring and an underlying vulnerability that she hides well most of the time.

She’s a grad student, for fuck’s sake. Out of limits, Hiddleston, he scolds himself and runs a hand back through his blondish-brown hair.

But he’s never been good at denying himself what he desires, and he wants her more than he’s ever wanted anything else.

There is something about Thalia that has wiggled its way into places inside him which others haven’t touched in a long time. Something about her strength and passion gets to him every single time…and the damn sinful way in which she says “Professor Hiddleston”, a sure-fire way to make him yearn to plunge so deeply into her she’d feel him for days.

It doesn’t help that she’s got such a smart brain inside her pretty head. He’s always found intelligence to be a huge turn-on, and Thalia has proven how intelligent – and diligent – she is by contributing immensely to his research.

It is their collaboration on the recent Shakespeare project that has brought them closer together. Although he’d been intrigued by her ever since she’d walked into his class eighteen months ago and smiled before hanging onto his every word as if her life depended on it.

Working alongside her for days on end, sometimes for nights too, has made him drunk on her. He can still smell her, conjure her image when he closes his eyes.

Damn it all to hell, she’s like a drug that has entered his bloodstream, hooking him for good. And he hasn’t even had a taste of her yet.

But he’s held her in his arms, and boy, does he remember that…


Tom allows his mind to wander back a few months. He received a call from a distraught Thalia that she wouldn’t be able to help him out for a few days because she suddenly had to travel to Chicago due to a family emergency.

He was worried about her the whole time, wondering what she was doing, listlessly plotting away at his work like a love-sick boyfriend. Pathetic how much he longed for her.

He’d seen her return late at night, hunched over and hugging herself tightly although it hadn’t been a particularly cold spring evening.

Lord knows he should have stayed out of her life, but he had been unable to when he had seen her shake like a leaf. He’d waited for a while to see whether anyone would look after her, but he was aware she didn’t have many friends because she preferred to stay on her own.

So, he grabbed a cup of take-away coffee exactly the way she liked it and went to her place.

Seeing her red-eyed from crying had been a punch in the gut.

She should have kicked him to the curb for invading her privacy at what was obviously a moment of grief, but she let him in with a wobbly half-smile. They sat in silence, her nursing the warm cup in both hands and worrying her plump lower lip with her teeth, him so on edge he couldn’t stop fidgeting.

“Thalia, are you alright?” he asked. “Is there anything I can do for you?”

And then a dam had broken and she’d told him everything in a garbled rush of words interrupted by half-suppressed sobs.

She’d received a call in the middle of the night that her friend Amy and her fiancé had been in a car crash. The man had died on the spot, and by the time Thalia had arrived at the hospital on the earliest flight, her friend had passed away too.

Tom had not forgotten her anguished face when she whimpered again and again that she hadn’t been there for Amy when she needed her most.

Thalia told him that her friend had fallen out of her parents’ graces because she had become involved with a bit of a bad boy. The two had eloped, secretly getting engaged with only Thalia present. She’d been supporting them morally ever since.

When Thalia broke down, Tom acted purely on instinct. In a flash, he was by her side on the sofa and pulled her into his arms. He hugged her close, rocking her from side to side softly, stroking her quivering back.

“Shush, darling, don’t. It’s okay. I’ve got you. It’s okay. Let it all out.”

He murmured comforting nothings to her until she calmed down a little, trying to ignore how amazing she felt in his arms, how right, as if it were her place.

“You’ll pull through. You’re much stronger than you give yourself credit for,” he whispered, leaning back a little to tilt her face up by her chin. He swiped a thumb over her cheek to wipe away the tears, his gut clenching at the forlorn look in her huge eyes.

She was usually so confident and self-contained, so full of energy. He’d heard talk that she wasn’t afraid of clocking a drunkard in the face if he tried to grab her at the bar. But at this moment, she was vulnerable and he wanted to protect her from all harm.

“You were there for her all the time. She must have known that you loved her. Please don’t tear yourself up over this.”

“Th…thank you, Tom.” She sniffed and hiccupped, one of her hands unknowingly still fisted in his white shirt which was now tear-soaked and clung to his chest.

Her gaze followed his and she sucked in a breath, letting go of his shirt and shifting away from him.

But he didn’t let her escape, didn’t want to break this special bond between them. She’d called him by his name, and he could barely think around the desire to hear it again and again, falling from those beautiful lips in pleas and moans and screams.

Something had changed between them that day. She’d let him bring her a glass of water, and he made her a sandwich and forced her to eat it so she wouldn’t faint from exhaustion and stress.

When she swayed after getting up, Tom steered Thalia into her bedroom, removed her shoes and settled her on the bed. He drew the covers over her and pressed a chaste kiss to her forehead as if she were a small girl and he her daddy, offering comfort as naturally as if they’d spent their whole lives together.

He could see she wasn’t used to being taken care of, and something about the initial flare of defiance followed by such willing surrender really got to him. It heated his blood to think of being in charge, of showing her how nice it could be to hand over the reins and succumb to all the care he could provide, sexual and non-sexual.

Back in the present, Thalia shifts on the beanbag, folding one leg beneath her and making the skirt ride up to mid-thigh. Tom suppresses a groan, returning to the here and now with desire clawing away inside him.

He takes another deep breath. Since that day, she often calls him Tom and smiles at him in a way he can’t quite read, and it drives him wild.

As happens almost as automatically as breathing to him, Tom seeks solace in Shakespeare. Softly, he quotes aloud, “The course of true love never did run smooth.”

Before he can take the words back or wonder why his mind settled on this phrase about love, Thalia’s head shoots up. Surprise morphs into that special smile she has for him, making him feel like he’s the only man on the planet.

Fool. He should not be feeling like this, thinking all those forbidden thoughts. He’s at the height of his career, partly thanks to her research and his perseverance, and she has all of her career still waiting. He’ll ruin it all if he can’t keep it in his pants.

“Tom. I didn’t hear you enter, I’m sorry.”

He gestures for her to remain seated and walks over.

“Were you quoting the Bard again, Professor?” she asks, her tone teasing and traveling straight to his groin.

Fuck, he shouldn’t find it so hot when she calls him professor.

“What if I was?”

He can hear himself adopting the same teasing tone.

“It wouldn’t exactly surprise me,” she said with a saucy lift of her brows. “I bet you dream in Shakespearean sonnets.”

Tom chuckles. He is acutely aware of them being all alone in the library.

Their breathing is the only sound in the room for a while. He adjusts his glasses to overcome the sudden awkwardness, and she licks her lips. He’s seen her do that a few times, as if the sight of him fumbling with them turns her on.

“Have you come to join me?” She pats the seat next to her, shifting again to press her long, thick legs together.

Shit, shit, shit, he should hightail it out of here before he loses his last ounce of control around her.

He clears his throat, his feet in his trusted grey suede shoes walking closer of their own volition.

“I was just thinking I’d enjoy a few quiet hours of non-academic reading. I’ve been buried in work-related stuff for so long I feel my head is going to explode. And I’m afraid my students won’t appreciate the gore much, even though they claim to be horror fans.”

Thalia laughs, a throaty sound that tugs at his cock.

“Well, sit down. I am really good at being quiet. You won’t even know I’m there. And for the record, I wouldn’t mind having you all over me. I bet even splatters of your brain are sheer brilliance we could all use a dose of.”

Holy shit. Tom swallows convulsively at the image of him all over her, which involves a lot of nakedness, entangled limbs, sweat and other bodily fluids.

As if it has just dawned on her what she has said, Thalia blushes. She lowers her head back to the book, pressing her legs closer together.

To pull himself together, Tom walks to a nearby shelf and pulls out a random book. He glances at Ulysses and takes yet another deep breath. It’s bloody unlikely that he won’t even know she’s there, for he’s always much too aware of her.

He has no idea what devil rides him, but instead of sinking onto a beanbag far enough away to keep his wits, he all but folds his tall body into half to perch on the carpet next to her feet. He leans his back against the side of her beanbag and stretches out, her bare leg so close he could rub his shoulder against it or let his hand glide over her ankle and shapely calf.

Is he imagining things or has she sucked in a breath?

God, he has no idea what game he’s playing right now. He only knows one thing: he wants her, so much that it hurts.

They sit like this in silence for a few minutes, and Tom can’t for the life of him concentrate on his book. The sentences are an inky black blur, while her subtle perfume makes him lightheaded. After a while, Thalia crosses her legs, and the new position makes her calf touch his arm. She keeps it there, the warmth searing through his navy-blue sweater into his skin and making his body tingle.

He has the weirdest urge to crawl up next to her in the big comfy chair and snuggle closer, to rest his head on her shoulder and grab the hand that is clenched into a fist on her lap. But thinking of her lap makes him tumble right back into the gutter, and he imagines sliding his hand beneath her skirt, pushing her panties to the side and driving her to the edge only with his fingers.

Christ, he needs to get a grip on himself.

Before Tom can think of something to say to break the tension-filled silence, Thalia snaps her book shut.

“I can’t find what I’m looking for in this,” she says, her voice even huskier than it usually is.

He smirks to himself. Oh yes, he affects her just like she affects him.

When she gets up, he hurries to his feet too, loving it that she is almost as tall as him. Perfect kissing height.

He follows her to the back of the room, his nerves tingling at the brief contact when she deliberately brushes against him on her way.

Click here to read Chapter 2 Library Seductions

Copyright © 2017 avenger-nerd-mom. All rights reserved. Intellectual property of avenger-nerd-mom