Page 42 of Love, Academically

Demarcation (adjective) de·mar·ca·tion

The action of fixing the boundary or limits of something

Rhys

Seven o’clock couldn’t come soon enough. Rhys had deliberately not seen to himself in the shower that morning and he arrived at Lila’s with a semi just from the thought of her curves. She’d already text him that the key would be under the mat and he was to let himself in and come and find her.

Fuck, he hoped she was as ready as he was.

His shoes were off and he was already unbuttoning his shirt halfway up the stairs when he noticed steam curling around the open door to the bathroom.

Lila, his girlfriend, was in the shower. Waiting for him. His dick was now painfully hard and he hurried up the last of the stairs, stopping to hang his shirt and trousers over the banister and to tug off his socks and pants, before stepping into the steamy bathroom.

Lila’s body was hazy through the obscure glass shower screen, her hair piled on top of her head.

Pausing for a moment, he just watched her allowing the hot water to stream against her chest, down her body, his hand going instinctively to his cock.

He must have made some kind of noise, because she whirled around, catching sight of him through the glass.

Lila slid the shower door open, her eyes going straight to his dick, tongue darting out to wet her lips. He ran his thumb across the pre-cum already seeping out of his slit, his hand pumping his shaft a couple of times at the sight of water dripping off Lila’s hard nipples.

Two urgent strides and he was with her, under the spray of the water. A bruising, urgent kiss and the sweet torture of her hard nipples against his chest had him wishing he had helped himself this morning, because he wasn’t going to last very long with her. He never lasted very long with her.

His hands slipped up her ribs and to her chest, twisting ruthlessly at her nipples before releasing and soothing them with a gentle brush of his thumb. One hand kept working a nipple, whilst the other dove between her legs.

“Shit, Lila,” he moaned into her mouth. “You’re so wet. You’re always so ready for me.”

“Rhys,” she panted, bucking and jerking against his two thick fingers that were relentlessly pumping her pussy. “I want you. I can’t wait.”

She grabbed a condom from the shelf where her bodywash stood and ripped it open with her teeth, her wet fingers shaking and slipping against the foil. He angled his dick away from the spray and sucked at her nipple as she rolled the condom on with unsteady fingers.

“Lila, if you want my dick, you’re going to have to ask for it,” he said into her chest, nipping at the nipple he’d been sucking on.

“Rhys,” she gasped, hands at the back of his head. There was a hesitation and he bit again, this time the underside of her breast and she shuddered, her pussy tightening on his still pumping fingers. “Rhys, I need your dick in me.”

“Good,” he said, pressing her back against the cool tiles of the shower enclosure.

He hooked one of her legs over his arm and she reached between them to guide his cock into her.

Using both hands made her breasts press together and he couldn’t help but pinch one nipple, then the other, earning himself beautiful gasps from her throat.

He thrust in, one long, hard thrust that had him buried in her up to his hilt.

“I’m not going to last very long,” he panted, bracing one arm above her head as he lifted her leg higher, pressing himself deeper.

“Neither am I,” she said, her eyes fluttering closed and head falling back against the white tiles of the shower.

Rhys angled her so the shower water fell between them, hitting her sensitive nipples, running down the valley of her chest, collecting where they were joined, splashing where he drove deeper into her.

She cried out as she came, her nails digging into his shoulders, standing leg trembling so hard he was vaguely worried they’d slip and fall. Two more thrusts and he was with her, the veins standing out in his neck as he spilled inside her.

Lila’s leg slipped from where it was hooked over his arm and she fell against him, boneless and spent.

“Fuck, Lila. That was—” He swallowed, catching his breath. “That was amazing.”

“Mmm.” Her voice vibrated against his chest and he looked down, running his hands over her skin.

They stayed like that for a while, breath slowing, arms around each other while the water cascaded over their skin.

“Lila,” he whispered, eventually. “We’ve got to go to work.”

“Two more minutes,” she said, her breath minty sweet across his lips.

Rhys was late for work. Well, not late late, but late for him. And he didn’t mind one little bit.

Lila

The way Rhys played her body with his fingers, his tongue was nothing short of magnificent. She had no idea that sex could be like that and that her orgasms could literally have her seeing stars. He was a maestro and she was his instrument .

It didn’t seem to be one-sided. Rhys shuddered when she nipped at his nipple, moaned when she scratched her nails over his scalp, couldn’t wait to be inside her in any way possible; his fingers, his dick, her pussy, her mouth.

“Lila? Did you hear me?” Sue popped her little erotic daydream bubble for the fourth time that week. “What is with you at the moment?”

“Sorry Sue,” Lila said, snapping a smile into place. “World of my own.”

“I was just saying that the PhD students need enhanced access to the Moodle so they can set work for the undergrads? Can you sort it please?”

“Yes, of course,” Lila noted it down on the pink heart-shaped pad next to her.

Sue turned to leave.

“Oh Sue, while I’ve got you,” Lila said, standing. “I sent you my application for the Lexicography Masters course. I just need you to forward it on with your approval.”

“I’ll have to check to see if I received it,” she said, dismissively.

“I had a delivered receipt when I sent it last week. I’ll resend it again now for you.” Lila bent down and tapped on her keyboard to forward the email. “It’s due tomorrow by five o’clock. If you could have a look at that, I’d be super appreciative.”

“Hmm, yes,” Sue said, glancing towards the door before raising her eyebrows to Lila. “PhD access to Moodle.”

“On it,” Lila said, with her most professional, reassuring smile.

Sue swept out of the room, her chintzy perfume trailing in her wake.

Sue had been less than excited about this course for her.

It was like she couldn’t quite work out why Lila would want to take the course.

That was why she hadn’t told anyone what she wanted to do.

The judgment, the assumption that she couldn’t do it.

Or why she would want to do it in the first place.

People didn’t outright put her down, but it was the head tilt and the sympathetic smile that said ‘good for you, giving it a go, don’t worry if it’s too hard’. Or Jason’s ‘be careful you don’t overstretch yourself, you know how you get.’

This course wasn’t about proving anything to anyone. It was about her. What she wanted. And she wanted this course. So there.

She’d finalised the flier for next week’s student/lecturer mixer by adding a couple more star bursts, and sent to the whole of the History Department.

It was good for the students to see the lecturers as actual people, not just teachers.

It was also good for the lecturers to see the students as not just numbers, a chore to deal with so that they could do their research.

A mix of terrible sangria, crisps and popcorn in bowls, fun party hats, a chance for people to mingle early so the students could go out after and the lecturers were in time to go home for tea.

Lila was bent over the bottom drawer of the filing cabinet in the far corner, trying to work out what kind of filing system her predecessor had used for the module information (answer: a rubbish filing system) when a phone pinged in her office, but it wasn’t hers.

She looked over her shoulder at Rhys, leaning against her office doorframe.

“Oh, hi,” she said, straightening up and turning to face him. How had he snuck in without her noticing?

“Hi.” There was something about this Rhys – with his eyes growing darker and the way the muscles in his jaw tightened, looking all hard-edged and dangerous standing in her soft, cosy, colourful office – that was insanely attractive.

She couldn’t help but notice how his grey trousers and crisp white shirt completely contradicted the shabby, tasselled cushions piled on the sofa where he’d held his seminars, and yet he didn’t look out of place. His presence was electrifying.

His eyes leisurely traced from her eyes to her lips, then lower, caressing down her neck, across her collarbone to her breasts.

His tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip, and she swallowed, her breath turning shallow.

This man, with his dark, hungry eyes, was making heat coil low in her belly and her nipples harden against her lacy bra.

“What are you doing?” she whispered.

Rhys let his gaze linger on her chest, lips turning up in a smirk because he could obviously see how turned on she was, and just by him looking at her. This man was seduction itself, and she felt desired and worthy, a heady combination that made her feel flushed and beautiful.

“Looking at you.” His voice was smooth and low, muscles in his jaw flexing with restraint. “I haven’t been able to concentrate on anything this morning.”

Lila swallowed heavily. “Oh?”

“Emails, marking essays, my Fellowship application, prepping for my meeting with Professor Painter,” he said, shaking his head slowly. “Not dealt with any of it.”

“Why?” It was little more than a wispy breath.