His kisses travel to my neck, and I tilt back to give him better access. As he nips and licks and sucks my skin, he lets his hands coast down my stomach and thighs, then grips the sheer material of my dress. Second later, he’s pulled it up and over my head, and I’m standing in my living room in nothing but a black bra and panties.

“Fuck me,” Smith mutters as his eyes coast over my body.

Yeah, that’s the idea.

He saunters toward me and, before I can take a breath, his lips are coasting along the crests of my breasts and my mouth is nipping at his bare skin of his shoulder. I scrape my teeth along a prominent, taut tendon along his neck and Smith groans. For a second, he pauses, his eyes dark with desire, then he hauls me up by my hips. I wrap my legs around his waist without even thinking twice.

Once we make it to my bed, he tosses me in the middle and I want to laugh, but his expression is so fierce, so full of want, that I can only lick my lips. He yanks his shirt off the rest of the way, then flicks the top button of his dress pants open. His eyebrows lift as I start to undo the zipper.

Mere moments later, Smith is on top of me then, and the space between us is nonexistent, just the way I like it. His bare skin is pressed against mine, and I move my hands behind his neck to pull his mouth to mine. Seconds later, though, he’s got them pinned to the pillow on either side of my head.

“I think you’ve had enough ‘upper hand’ in this relationship,” Smith murmurs, dragging his lips along my jaw. “And I think it’s about time I taught you a lesson or two.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Oh, really now?”

“Yeah. Really. Now.”

And then, without warning, he hauls me up and over until I’m lying on my stomach. Smith’s body comes back over mine and I can feel his hardness pressing against my lower back.

“This,” he says, placing my hands back near my head and lacing his fingers through mine, “is your first lesson, Miss Hendricks.”

“And what’s my assignment?” I ask, my words half muffled by the pillow. Smith chuckles.

“To try to lay still. No matter what.”

I’m about to say something sarcastic when I feel his tongue run over my skin. Goose bumps break out along my back and I have to force myself not to shiver.

“See, here’s the thing,” Smith says, pausing to place a kiss on each of my shoulder blades, “I think we need to have a more equitable relationship. As my teacher, you got to call all of the shots.”

“I was never really your teacher,” I mutter.

“Well, you didn’t know that.”

Smith’s mouth coasts from my upper back to the base of my spine, where he lingers, letting his tongue travel over my highly sensitized flesh. I desperately want to squirm and he must be able to tell—he moves his hands from clasping mine to pressing my hips into the mattress.

“Remember the rules,” he scolds, nipping lightly at the small of my back. “Good things come to those who listen.”

Under ordinary circumstances, that kind of direction would get my back up. Here and now? It’s never been hotter.

Smith lets his hands move from my hips to the underside of my ass, cupping the globes as though testing their weight. Moving his hands inward, he spreads me open slightly, then clucks his tongue.

“So wet already. You are so responsive. I’m afraid if I touch you here, it’ll all be over too soon.”

“No it won’t.” I hope my voice doesn’t sound as desperate to him as it does to me. It must, though, because I can almost hear his smirk when he speaks.

“Remember what I said about holding still, baby.”

His thumbs move to spread me wider, then slide up—into my dripping-wet slit that is almost embarrassingly ready for him.

“Fuck, Hyacinth.”

Smith moves one hand to slide a single finger inside of me. I arch my back, unable to stop myself. The pleasure is completely intense—it’s as though he’s never touched me before.

“You like that, baby? You like me finger fucking your pussy?”

I make a sort of choked noise, but I’m nodding at the same time. Smith talking dirty is just about as hot as it gets.

“Tell me what you want.”

I can barely form the words. In fact, my pleasure-saturated voice hardly sounds like my own when I rasp out, “Fuck me. Please, fuck me.”

“Why?”

Smith’s question bounces around in my brain as he picks up the pace, adding a second finger and driving me closer and closer to the edge.

“Because I need it.”

“What do you need?”

I swallow. My mouth is dry and I can barely manage to respond.

“I need you.”

Suddenly, his fingers are gone and the immediate loss is overwhelming. I start to turn around, to question Smith, when I feel his hand pressing into the center of my back.

“Be a good girl, Hyacinth,” he murmurs, leaning down so his lips hover just above my ear. “And I might give you a gold star.”

And with that, he slides into me from behind. His entry is slow, but methodical. As he pulls back, I can feel my wet channel gripping him, protesting his retreat. Then, Smith grips my ankles and slides my legs forward. My knees bend and my ass is effectively up in the air. I almost protest—I can only imagine how I look in this position—when he enters me again.

“God, you’re tight.”

Smith pulls back slightly, then slams forward. Involuntarily, my back arches and I keen out a sound I’ve never heard from my own mouth.

“Yes,” I manage to gasp out as he sets a persistent, pounding rhythm.

“You like that, baby?”

I can only nod as he withdraws and surges into me again and again. I grip the sheets with both hands and curl my toes under, reveling in the sound of our bodies slapping against each other and the feeling of damp skin against skin. The friction outside—the friction inside—all of it is delicious and so very necessary. I need Smith this way, right now, more than I need my next breath.

Smith grips my hips with both hands and, on his next retreat, flips me over onto my back. I gaze up at him and take in his glorious, muscular frame. His hair is disheveled and his eyes are almost smoky with lust. I bite down hard on my bottom lip, and those eyes seem to grow even darker.

“You know what that does to me, Miss Hendricks,” he practically growls. “I might have to give you detention.”

With that, he slides into me, hooking both arms around my knees and spreading my legs wide. I’m completely on display for him, and I’d feel self-conscious if it weren’t so fucking hot. I feel my eyes start to close as the pleasure coils and condenses low in my belly.

“Touch yourself.”

My eyes fly back open and find Smith’s.

“What?” I almost stutter the word and he gives me a wicked grin.

“Touch yourself. Put your hands on those gorgeous tits or that hot pussy and let me watch you do it.”

I open my mouth to protest, then close it. The truth is that I want to please him. The truth is that I don’t know if I’ve ever wanted anything more.

Slowly, I slide my hands down over my breasts, cupping each one in my palms before letting my fingers stroke my nipples. They pebble even harder at my touch, and I lick my lips, the intensity of my desire flaring hotter and hotter with every second.

“God, you’re so fucking sexy.”

Smith leans forward and licks between my fingers where my nipple rests, and I throw my head back with a groan. His teeth lightly scrape the sensitized flesh before capturing it in his mouth and sucking hard, pressing it against the roof of his mouth until I’m practically keening. And, all the while, he continues to move in and out of me with a pace that would be maddening if it weren’t so damn good.

“I can’t wait until I feel you come. The way you get all slick and tight around me . . .”

Smith buries his face in my neck and quickens his thrusts. I reach around and grab onto his shoulders, doing my best to meet him as he surges again and again. I don’t know if it’s the increase in speed or just my body responding to his words, but I can feel my orgasm, just brewing before, beginning to froth and crest.