By devikafernando and avenger-nerd-mom
AU Fan Fiction
In the sequel to Educating Thalia, the lovely Thalia Bareo is growing up, making her own way in the world after losing both men she loved, Professors Chris Evans and Tom Hiddleston. The sassy full-figured Puerto Rican girl from Chicago holds down a job in Madrid as she tries to deal with the real world. She continues her studies and freelances as a consultant for museums around the world. Being Thalia updates are posted on Wednesdays and Sundays.
Warning: As a whole, this work contains adult content. If you proceed you have agreed that you are willing to see such content. Each chapter will not be coded with individual warnings. The overall story contains no hidden triggers.
If you are new to the series and characters, click here to the beginning of Educating Thalia.
If you are looking for other stories in the sequel, click here for the beginning of Being Thalia
Word Count: 2660
Summary: While on a job assignment, Thalia finds herself missing Tom late at night. A phone call eases her loneliness.
Previous Chapter, Growing Up
Thalia shrugs into the comfy, oversized T-shirt she wears to sleep and pads over to the bed. She casts a longing look at her phone, wishing she could call Tom. But there’s more than six hours of time difference between them, so it would be too early to wake him.
With a little wistful sigh, she snuggles into the sheets, but sleep eludes her. Her brain can’t stop. What if it’s always like this? What if we both have to keep putting work first?
Though they are trying to move forward, to work things out and heal old wounds, they’ve spent more time apart than together. While she was working in the States, he was stuck in London. His troubles with his ex-fiancee stretched out, partly because the woman was trying to ruin his good name and make things worse.
“That’s karma, I guess,” Tom had said during one of their phone calls, sounding tired but also sort of stubbornly determined. “It wasn’t fair of me to do this to her, to be too cowardly to sort my life out proper. Now I’m paying the price. A hefty one.” When she protested, he tutted. “It is what it is. And, darling, in the end, it’s all led me back to you, so I’ll do penance gladly.”
After two weeks of teaching, Thalia was relieved to return to Madrid. She threw herself into preparing for the MAN’s annual fundraiser, saddened they hadn’t been able to make their schedules work.
Kicking her legs out, pulling the tucked sheet loose, she tries to focus on the here and now, to settle down. She watches the moonlit shadows dance on the wall. With the windows open, she can hear waves lapping upon the shore, sounds of far away revelers at a nearby nightclub. A vacation hideaway is no fun without a lover, she thinks, pouting her full lips. When she had been called away to tie up loose ends for an ongoing museum consultation on the Yucatán Peninsula, Tom had been unable to tag along to Mexico. To pay off his debts quickly, he’s been locked into an elite series of seminar presentations at Cambridge.
They’ve been talking every day, sometimes more than once. It’s oddly like the eagerness to talk between two youngsters who’ve just fallen in love
–and in a way, that’s fitting because they’ve only just admitted their love to each other.
Bunching the pillow to make it more comfortable, Thalia turns onto her side–only to open her eyes wide when she hears her cell ring.
At the name flashing across the screen, a huge smile tugs at her mouth. “Tom,” she answers. “I was just thinking about you. Why are you up early?”
His deep voice floats over, wrapping around her like a blanket. “Oh, things to do, darling. And I may have jumped at the opportunity to catch you before you’re asleep. I didn’t wake you, did I?”
“No, I just slipped under the covers.”
Abruptly, his tone changes, and his next words send an anticipatory shiver down her spine. “Is that so? And what are you wearing to bed, Miss Bareo? Something sexy that I could rip off with my teeth?”
She bites her lip at the image, remembering at least two sets of underwear that Tom has already destroyed in his eagerness to get to her body and worship her. God, she needs him here! But she isn’t that easy anymore…
“Phone sex? Really?”
“Oh, but whyever not, love?” His voice is a low, seductive purr now, somehow full of dirty promises. “If I can’t have you in person, at least let me make sure you’ll fall asleep with me on your mind.”
Thalia shifts, suddenly hot and bothered despite her determination not to give in so fast, just from the sound of his voice. “You’d have been on my mind anyway, Tom.”
Silence, then a deep breath. “Truly?”
Another pause. “Then let me make sure you can really feel me. Almost as if I were right there with you, burying my face between your luscious thighs and then tossing you onto your stomach so I could press myself in deep, so deep you’d feel me for days.”
Fuck. She holds back the expletive, definitely overheated now. “You’re not playing fair.”
“Oh, but haven’t you heard–they say that all is fair in love and war.” His purr is tinged with glee and she can picture his shit-eating grin which always magically makes him ten years younger.
With a scoff, she switches the phone to her other hand.
“All right, all right. Do your worst.”
Again, his voice slips into a lower register, quiet command amping up the arousal already shimmering beneath her skin, waiting to break free. “Oh, you haven’t seen me at my worst yet. Just you wait until we’re reunited, and I’ll unleash my inner monster.”
Thalia shivers again. She feels no fear at his threat, knowing deep down that he wouldn’t hurt her–not like this, at least; emotional hurt is something she’s already steeled herself against.
“Now, tell me what you’re wearing.”
“I could lie and tell you I’m all wrapped up in lingerie but you know me too well for that. Just an old T-shirt.”
“Off with the T-shirt.” It’s another quiet order. “Do it quickly, as if I would yank it off you so your glorious tits are bouncing. God, how I need to get my mouth on them. My teeth.”
Holding back a whimper, Thalia complies. She hears rustling at the other end and wonders whether he’s undressing himself. Or is he out of bed already, sprawling in a chair with his legs opened wide and his free hand stroking his cock? She presses her thighs together, then lies back down. For tonight, she’s happy to submit.
“Put your phone on speaker. I want you to be able to use both hands,” comes a husky command.
She does as told, her breath speeding up.
“Now touch those beautiful breasts for me. Be a little rougher than you would normally be, imagine it’s my hands kneading and groping and tugging on your nipples.”
Her fingers are eager to comply, fondling the heavy globes and feeling the tips harden and peak. A soft moan travels across oceans to Tom, and she can hear him groan in reply.
“Does that feel good? Do you yearn for my mouth?”
“Good, I want you yearning. Desperate. All mine even though I’m not actually touching you.”
Her whimper gets cut off by some noise on his end of the line, something like static. Traffic? Does he have the windows open?
“Now be a good girl and suck on your fingers. Lick them. Make them wet, then play with those gorgeous dusky nipples again and imagine it’s my lips and my tongue.”
Thalia complies all too eagerly, exaggerating the noise of her sucking so Tom gets an earful. His hiss spurs her on. She tugs and rolls the hard nubs, her feet and legs shifting and twisting so the soft sheet caresses her skin.
“God, you must be so beautiful now,” Tom forces out, his voice rough and gravelly. “Does it feel good?”
“Y-yes. But…it’s not enough.”
“I know, darling, I know. I promise, I’ll make it better. But first, let me make it worse. Trail your free hand down those gorgeous curves and in between your thighs.”
She does as told, wondering briefly whether she should slide her fingers beneath her panties even though he hasn’t allowed her to. He would be none to wise…
“Nuh-uh, not yet,” he scolds as if he can see her, making her flinch with a tinge of guilt. “Keep those fingers on top of the fabric for now, and don’t stop teasing your breasts. Are you wet enough to soak the fabric yet?”
Fuck, those filthy words in that cultured voice. It’s not fair. Shifting even more, she unclenches her thighs enough to slide her fingers over her panties.
“Getting there,” she pants.
“Mmm, I bet. Rub yourself then. But no real touching until I say so. Soak that fabric until you can smell yourself, your need for me.”
Thalia hears what might be a suppressed moan, some more rustling. Is he touching himself? The thought makes her all fluttery and even needier. Even another bout of noise can’t deter her as she plays with her stiff nipples and presses two fingers of her other hand over the fabric to stroke in tight circles. Faster and faster, but still gentle. When she moans again, Tom breaks the silence.
“That’s it. There you go. Soaked yet? If I bent down and ran my tongue over the panties, would I get a hint of your taste now, tempting me to eat you out in earnest?”
“Yes.” It’s a groan more than a coherent answer. “Dammit, Tom, let me touch myself. I need to cum.”
A chuckle floats over, filled with mischief. She imagines his gleaming eyes, his wicked grin. Imagines it’s his fingers pressing down more firmly until she’s a squirming mess. She should just tug the now damp fabric to the side, slide her digit deeper…but she doesn’t because it’s thrilling to hand him the reins even when he’s not here.
“Beg some more and I’ll let you remove your knickers,” Tom commands in that deep, toe-curling tone. It sends another shiver through her.
“I will, but just so you know…The next time we’re doing this, I’ll be the one making you beg.”
She hears him suck in his breath. “Deal.” It’s so faint she can barely hear him. There’s more static and she uses the slight pause to get more comfortable. Then she begs.
“Please, Tom, fucking please.” She whines. “Let me touch myself properly. Wouldn’t it be so much nicer if you could really see me, smell me? Let me remove my panties, please. I’ll do whatever you say.”
She barely hears something, as if he’s biting off a curse or muttering to himself. So she’s affecting him too?
“All right. But you don’t get to come until I say so. Otherwise there’ll be punishment.”
With a sigh of relief and an eagerness she should probably feel ashamed about, Thalia wriggles out of her underwear and spreads her legs, propping up her feet. A waft of warm ocean air through the open windows hits her slickness and she can almost believe it’s Tom’s breath ghosting over her puffy lips. He’d nibble on her inner thighs now, tease her some more. Kiss closer and closer to where she needs him, then finally lick her but avoid her clit.
Aroused right out of her mind, Thalia bucks up into an imaginary touch.
“Slide those fingers down now, darling. Swirl them, coat them, feel just how swollen with need you are. Only I can make this better, right?”
“Yes, yes,” she agrees mindlessly, doing exactly as told and trying to control her breathing.
“Now impale yourself on one finger only. Let it go as deep as you can and think of how much bigger and longer my finger would be, satisfying you more.”
On a drawn-out moan, she complies. And it’s exactly as he says, she longs for his finger instead. Fuck, she’s always had a thing for his hands anyway.
“Please, I need another one,” she begs, rotating the digit and clenching around it.
He makes a tutting noise. “So greedy. I’m not sure you deserve another finger yet. Give that needy little clit of yours a good rub first, get yourself even wetter.”
Thalia slides her thumb through the slickness and up, circling on a gasp because it feels so damn good and yet she needs more-more-more.
“That’s it. I can hear how slick you are. All because of me. All for me.”
After a while, when she wants to burst out of her skin with need, he relents. “Two fingers now, my love. Find that spot that has you teetering on the edge. But don’t you dare come yet. I’m warning you.”
With a frustrated whine, she heeds his command, her eyes pressed shut and all her muscles tense. She can feel it, her climax. Right there, waiting for her to take the plunge. God, she wants it. Now.
“Please, Tom, please.” She’s past being coherent. All quivering need, at his mercy.
“Hold it right there. I can almost feel your inner muscles fluttering around my soaked fingers, pleading for release. Fuck.” His curse this time is more audible and heartfelt. But his next words surprise her enough to stave off the impending climax.
“Now use your free hand to angle your phone where you can see it. I’ll send you some added visual stimulation.”
Desperate for more, she fumbles with the cell. Will he go on camera? Send her a short video of him jerking off? Just a photo of his glorious cock that she HAS to have inside her right this very moment? She’ll take anything if it means he’ll finally let her come.
When a ding signals an incoming message, she thumbs it open–and blinks, then gapes in confusion. It’s a selfie. Not that she doesn’t think he’s hot as hell, but he wants her to fall apart by looking at his face only? It takes a few moments for her desire-addled brain to kick into gear, to focus on the details. Wait a minute…that background looks familiar. She squints, realizing that Tom’s standing in front of a door. She scratches her head, reaching for her glasses.
Is that… Holy shit, that’s the brightly colored door to her little beach cabana!
Thalia jerks into motion, which makes her impending orgasm recede a fraction, and her phone fall off the bed. With a few choice expletives, she bends to retrieve the phone, mindful not to touch it with her arousal-slicked fingers.
“Fucking hell, Hiddleston, are you standing in front of my door right now?!” It’s a stammered screech of sorts because she’s just too shocked and still not able to get all her brain cells to work.
“Yep,” is his reply, popping the p and sounding mighty gleeful. The next second, there’s a firm knock.
Still swearing a blue streak, Thalia hastily wraps the sheet around herself and hurries to the door. When she opens it, there he is, in the flesh and with a dorky grin and floofy hair, wearing his black coat. She looks at him for a split second more, noticing that his pupils are dilated and he’s breathing harshly. Then she launches herself at him, all extra pounds and tangled blanket, and he narrowly manages to catch her without toppling them both to the porch floor.
“I hate you,” she whispers into his ear, digging her teeth into it sharp enough to make him flinch. “Now make me come.”
“With the greatest pleasure,” he replies and his decadent voice rumbles through her.
Somehow, he kicks the door shut and hauls her to the bedroom, half-carrying her as their lips crash together in a kiss that goes from 0 to 100 in a heartbeat. And then it’s all a blur and magic. Tom tosses her onto the bed and she barely remembers to set her glasses on the rickety nightstand so they won’t get knocked off in the heat of passion. The next instant, he buries his face between her chunky thighs. It takes only a few licks and sucks before she explodes, fisting his hair and chanting his name. The next thing she knows, he’s shucked his coat and unzipped his pants, not even bothering to strip. His strong hands tug her to the edge of the bed so he can lift her legs around his hips and slide home on a groan that seems wrenched right from his heart. Their animalistic sounds mingle as they chase release together and finally find it in a moment of white-hot heat and zigzagging lights behind her eyelids.
Click here to read Chapter 28, Surrender
Copyright © 2019 avenger-nerd-mom and devikafernando. All rights reserved. Intellectual property of avenger-nerd-mom