Teach Me(20)

“Canterbury Tales, I’d guess, based on the way the author alludes to courtly love. He talks about being unable to eat, sleep, think straight, because of the feelings the object of his desire arouses in him.” My eyes meet hers, possibly for the first time since she strode into my office this morning at 6:00 a.m. on the dot, with not just one but two coffees balanced on a take-out tray. For all my talk about functioning better at this hour, I won’t lie, a coffee definitely helped take the edge off the less-than-fruitful night I had.

Another night of imagining her body. The body I already know by touch if not by sight. The body so deliciously close I can practically feel her warmth radiating on my skin.

“But she’s not an object, is she,” Harper points out. Her eyes have caught on mine, and I can’t seem to pull free this time. “Eliot took a very progressive view toward women for his time. If this poem is one of his, I’d say we should read it with that in mind. Courtly love was about men pining away for an impossible feminine love, someone who could never feel the same for him. But what if she did? What if she wasn’t as unattainable as she might seem?”

Somehow, I don’t think we’re talking about the poem anymore. “The poem is about the impossibility of the whole thing. It doesn’t matter what she wants, or what the narrator wants.”

She’s close. Too close. Her face hovers inches from mine, and I can feel her breath as she murmurs, “What about what you want?”

I can feel the heat in my eyes, the build-up of lust that would—should—scare any sensible girl away. But she meets that gaze head-on, and the same fire burns in her eyes. “You don’t want to know what I want. Trust me.” My voice drops into a growl. I can’t help it. She brings out the beast in me.

I could swear she knows it, too, by the way her red lips (who wears lipstick this early in the morning?) curve into a sharp grin.

She’s a student; she’s not right for you; this is just a phase for her, and she’ll hate you if you take advantage of her right now. I try as hard as I can to remind myself of all the reasons this cannot happen.

Then those bright red lips part around her reply. “Oh, but I do want to know. Tell me what you want, Professor. Or better yet, show me . . . ”

That does it. That flips the switch inside. I lose all ability to think straight. Next thing I know, my mouth crushes into hers and my hands dig into her sides, hauling her up from her seat until we’re both standing. Our chairs crash to the floor beside us. I break away long enough to turn the lock on the office door, and when I turn back to her, she’s leaning against my desk, her short skirt hiked just high enough that I can tell that beneath it, what I took for panty hose are actually thigh-high stockings held up by garters around her waist.

“What I want?” I repeat.

She came prepared. Or so she thinks. Somehow I doubt she’s ready for this.

“What I want is to bend you over this desk and fuck you right here, right now.”

I cross the room again and pull her body against me, hip to hip, chest to chest. “How do you feel about that, Harper?”

She arches her back to dig her crotch into my leg. “Why don’t you touch me and find out?” She grins and leans up to try and kiss me again, but I grasp her jaw in one hand, tilt her head to the side to expose her long, slender neck. Her hips grind against mine, and the length of my cock digs into her stomach as I lean in to bite the tender spot just below her ear.

Her sharp gasp only makes me harder. Her hands reach up to bury themselves in my hair, and I drop mine to the cleavage peeking out from the top of her button-down shirt. My fingers fumble on the buttons as our lips collide again.

Fuck it.

I yank the shirt apart, sending buttons flying between us, and revealing the lacy red bra that restrains her perfectly shaped B-cups. “You keep asking what I want,” I say as I run my hands over her warm, soft skin and trace the outline of the bra with two fingers until she’s gritting her teeth, her hips bucking against mine in frustration. “What about you, Harper? What do you want?”

“For you to do whatever you want to me.” Her baby blue eyes flash to mine, and even though she’s trying to hide it, I can see the frustration in them. “Take me however you want,” she urges.

Only then do I grin and reach to undo the snap, letting her bra fall away as I bend to circle her breast with my tongue.

Her hands clench in my hair. I smile, and let my teeth brush the tip of her rock hard nipple.

“Fuck,” she hisses.

“Mmm, if you say so,” I breathe against her. Then I step backwards. She tugs at me, frustrated, but I catch both of her hands in one of mine and lift them over her head. Her eyes go wide in surprise, but the fire’s still lit in them. She’s enjoying this as much as I am.