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CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

AMELIA

T he look in Elliot’s eyes is practically feral as he flips the lock, pulling his hips back and thrusting into me as his hands grip my ass tightly enough to leave marks.

“Dirty girl,” he rasps, so quietly I can barely hear him as he rolls his hips against mine in steady strokes that have my core clenching and pleasure swimming in my veins.

“I felt how tightly your pussy gripped me when you heard the dean’s voice.

I think you like the idea of getting caught.

Of him walking in here and seeing how well you take this cock, pinned against my office wall. ”

“Shit,” I mumble, as Elliot’s mouth lands on my neck, his lips and teeth and tongue blazing a path over my skin as he keeps up that slow, steady pace, gripping tight, grinding deep. All I can do is hold on for the ride.

The knock on the door six inches from my head has me jumping, a loud gasp tearing from my throat.

Elliot chuckles a little darkly, one hand leaving my ass and coming up to cover my mouth as he drops his lips to my ear, stilling his hips and pressing me tighter between his body and the wall.

“Baby, you know I love all your sounds,” he whispers, pressing a soft kiss to the shell, his warm breath ghosting over my skin, making me shiver.

“Every last one of them is mine. But right now, I need you to be quiet for me while I give you this cock. While I fuck your pussy like I own it and make you come so hard you’ll want to scream, but you can’t.

Because if you do, everyone out there will know what a dirty fucking girl you are in here.

Letting me fuck you against the wall where anyone could catch us. ”

The dean knocks again, calling out, “Professor Wyles? Are you in there?”

“Including him.” Elliot nips at my earlobe and licks it to soothe the sting, pulling back slightly and snapping his hips forward.

Holy motherfucking shit.

My whimper is muffled by Elliot’s hand, but I know he hears it because his eyes darken and his cock gets harder, the hand on my mouth pressing tighter.

I have never been this turned on in my entire life.

My arousal slides down to my ass and my arms and legs tighten around him, holding on for the ride.

And what a ride it is. It’s raw and primal and completely unhinged. Elliot’s pants are around his thighs and his shirt half unbuttoned. My cheeks flushed, my hair everywhere, and Elliot’s hand clamped over my mouth as he pounds into me like he would die if he stopped.

“So. Fucking. Good.” Elliot’s voice is rough, punctuating each word with a sharp thrust of his hips that has my clit throbbing, the pleasure so intense it’s almost painful.

“You’re doing so well for me. Such a good girl, taking this cock like it was made for you.

And it was, Amelia. Every part of me was made just for you.

That’s why this feels so good. Why it’s always perfect between us.

Because we belong together. To each other.

Come for me, baby. Show me you’re mine.”

Elliot tightens his hand on my ass, holding me firmly against his thrusts. When he bends his knees and rolls his hips, he hits a spot that has pleasure coiling inside me like a fist. It only takes two more thrusts and I’m gone.

My orgasm slams into me and I feel it through my entire body, somehow more intense because his hand over my mouth keeps me from making any sound as the waves pummel me. My eyes want to slam shut at the onslaught of pleasure, but I fight to keep them open because all I want to see is Elliot.

The way he holds his gaze on mine and the wildness in it as he fucks me with abandon.

The tense set of his jaw, his light brown hair falling across his forehead, the way his tongue glides over his bottom lip like he can still taste me there from the kisses we’ve shared.

The only sound in the quiet office is our panting breaths and my arousal as he pumps into me.

As my orgasm recedes, he takes his hand from my mouth, wrapping it tightly around my throat as he pins me against the door. His legs shake and his hips hammer into me until they still entirely, and he presses his face to my neck, his low groan rumbling in my ear as the warmth of his cum floods me.

“Shit,” Elliot whispers in a gasp, his heart thudding against mine.

With his arms wrapped tightly around me, he takes two shaky steps back and collapses into one of his office chairs, his semi-hard cock still inside me.

He gathers me against him and buries his face in my hair, pressing soft kisses to my neck and stroking my back with trembling hands.

“That was…” He breaks off, as if he can’t really explain what that was, and honestly, same.

“Yeah…” I breathe, leaning my forehead against his. “Do you think he’s still out there?” I whisper, pressing my lips to his for a quick kiss. He must think it’s too quick because he wraps a hand around my neck to hold me to him for a longer, slower kiss that has butterflies exploding in my stomach.

Elliot takes a deep, shaky breath and lets it out slowly, pressing a kiss to my forehead and cupping my face with one hand, stroking a thumb over my cheek. “I think he went away after the third time he knocked with no answer, but we should probably keep it down just in case. That was hot as fuck.”

I drop my head to his shoulder to muffle a bubble of laughter. “It really was. How long do you think we’ll need to stay in here behind that locked door?”

He kisses the side of my head, one hand stroking up and down my back in a rhythm that has me so relaxed I’m basically a puddle in his arms. “To keep up the appearance of no one having been in here at all? A while I would say.” His voice is filled with humor that has me smiling against his shoulder.

“What should we do with all that time?” I ask, pushing his shirt aside and pressing a kiss to his bare shoulder.

Elliot reaches down and strips off my tank top, taking my bra with it, tossing both to the floor.

I gasp when he immediately dips his head, sucking a nipple into his mouth and swirling his tongue around it.

“I can think of a few things,” he murmurs.

Without warning, he thrusts up, his cock hardening inside of me.

“Already?” The word comes out more as a breathy moan as he does it again, hitting my clit just right, a shot of pleasure arrowing through me.

“Always,” he rasps, tangling one hand in my hair and wrapping his free arm around my waist, holding me tightly against him as he fucks me from below.

The way his eyes lock on mine, the intensity in them, makes me think that word holds a lot more meaning to it than just his near zero lack of recovery time.

And with his arms wrapped around me, as close to each other as two people can be, I think I could get used to being his always. As long as he’s mine too.