“Tighter,” he orders hoarsely.
I increase my grip on him, running my thumb over the damp head of his cock in the way I know he likes. He pulls back and pushes forward again, fucking the vise of my fist. My breath burns through my chest, quivers centering in my lower body.
Dean puts his hand flat against my belly and slides it down between my legs, his forefinger pressing my clit through the cotton of my underwear. Electricity bursts in my veins. I sink back against the wall. Every cell in my body strains toward the intense, deep bliss that only he can give me.
I move both hands up to his shoulders and arch my hips into his touch. He shifts closer, his lips against mine, his finger probing deeper as his tongue does a hot, slow sweep of my mouth.
He eases his hand beneath my panties, and then he’s inside me, stroking me with two fingers, his thumb circling my clit. Pressure builds in me like steam, scorching my blood. I surrender, clutching at him as the strain breaks and floods me with sensation. Dean captures my cry of pleasure, pressing one hand to the small of my back as vibrations shake me to the core.
Gasping, I sink against him, my heart pulsing as he strips off my underwear. Tension ripples through him, the beat of urgency that I know so well. He moves away only long enough to roll on a condom, then grabs my waist and pushes me back up against the wall.
His eyes are almost black, seething with heat. Before I can even take another breath, he hooks his arms beneath my thighs and lifts me off the ground, plunging his cock into me at the same instant. Another cry wrenches from my throat at the sensation of him filling me, stretching me. I can’t move, can only grip his shoulders and hold on.
Sensation drenches me—the wall against my back, my legs spread over his arms, his shaft thrusting up and into me again and again, his deep groans vibrating against my skin. Our bodies slam together, the slick sound of fucking filling my ears, the scent of sex flooding my nose. My head falls back, my hair sticking to my damp skin.
His mouth crashes down on mine, and I open in near desperation, needing every part of him inside me, his breath, his voice, his body. Sudden tears sting my eyes, and his name breaks from me on a sob. My legs ache. I cling to him, feeling him plunge so deep, all the way to the center of me, his cock pulsing and throbbing.
He presses his forehead against mine, his chest heaving, his fingers digging into the undersides of my thighs. Sweat drips down his temple.
My body flares with a riotous combination of love and desire. I tighten my fingers into the muscles of his back as another orgasm rips through me, my sex clenching around his thick shaft. He thrusts again, the rhythm getting faster, even deeper, until a violent shudder racks his body. He groans, pushing forward, holding me against the wall.
Dean doesn’t let go of me, doesn’t release me. He puts his face against my shoulder, his breath rough. He lowers me slowly to the ground, but I’m shaking so hard that my knees buckle.
He tucks his hands beneath my knees again and lifts me against his chest, taking me a few steps to the bed. I wind my arms around his neck, bringing him down onto the bed with me.
He brushes my hair away from my forehead, stroking his palm over my cheek. As our breathing slows, I curl up against his side and absorb the pleasure of us back in our bed together. His muscular arm is heavy around me. I rest my head on his chest, falling asleep to the rhythm of his heartbeat.
When I wake, my body loose, my blood still pulsing, I feel Dean’s gaze on me. I look up into his eyes that are filled with a hundred emotions I can’t define. I press my hand against his jaw, moving my palm up into his messy hair.
“Your paper on the Notre-Dame chapels was about the socio-economic context of their construction,” I murmur. “You analyzed how the design of the chapels influenced their function and served as a standard model for French chapel architecture.”
The line between his eyebrows eases. “You read my paper.”
“I found all your articles in your filing cabinet.” I shift and move my leg over him so that I’m straddling his thighs. His gaze goes to my naked breasts.
“You’ve written a ton of stuff, Professor West,” I remark. “I even read your book on Romanesque cathedrals. I learned that Romanesque walls were very thick and… massive.”
“Yeah?” He strokes the curves of my waist and around to my back.
His body is hot between my legs. I run my hands over his powerful chest, skimming my fingertips across the ridges of his abdomen. I lean down so that my hair falls in a curtain on either side of his face.
“I learned a lot about medieval architecture from you,” I whisper, looking into his dark eyes.
“Like what?”
“All about groin vaults.” I kiss his chin. “And drum columns.”
“Mmm.” He squeezes my ass.
“Elevated naves.” I kiss his nose. “Enlarged piers.” I kiss his cheek. “Structural members.”