Black Sheep

: Chapter 27



“I meant what I said,” I growl as Bria writhes against the seatbelt. Her chest heaves with unsteady breaths as I thumb her clit and pump two fingers into her hot, slick pussy. “I promised I would fuck you every chance I got on this trip.”

Bria moans, straining against the restriction of the seatbelt, her short skirt bunched up around her hips. “I meant what I said too, that I’m counting on it.”

The GPS chimes the upcoming turn and I increase the pressure of my thumb and the speed of my thrusts, trying to keep at least some of my attention on the road. My dick is painfully hard against my jeans and I’m desperate to get to our lodgings. “Come for me, sweetheart. We’re nearly there.”

“Where’s there?” she asks in a breathless, strained whisper.

“You’ll see. It’s a surprise.” Bria whimpers and opens her mouth to protest but I pinch her clit in warning and she gasps with pleasure. “I said, it’s a surprise.”

Her dark laugh is swallowed by a moan as Bria squirms to increase the friction against my hand. “What if I don’t like surprises?”

“That’s exactly what I’m counting on, sweetheart. I think you’ll loathe it.”

Bria’s pussy constricts around my fingers and her muscles tense, her hand clutching my thigh across the center console. Her head tilts back and her eyes close and her breath catches in her lungs. Her other hand grips my wrist as I slow the motion of my fingers, letting her down from the orgasm just as we make it to the turn. When I withdraw my fingers from her panties, I hold them up to her lips, her slick arousal glistening in the sun.

“Have a taste,” I say as my dick strains with my words. Bria’s flushed face beams with a wicked smile as she grasps my wrist with both her hands and turns toward me. She folds my index finger down so just my middle finger remains.

“That’s what I think of surprises.”

“Perfect.”

Bria grins and keeps hold of my eyes as the car slows to a crawl on the dirt road, and then envelops my finger with her mouth, sucking hard on my flesh. She lets it go with a pop and runs her tongue across her lips.

“I am going to destroy you,” I say as a growl climbs my throat.

Bria’s mischievous giggle is as dark and daring as it is sweet and innocent. “I’d like to see you try.”

I must give her some kind of wild, ravenous look because that always seems to thrill her the most, and she’s radiant with excitement when I lurch to a stop at the caretaker’s house. “I’ll be right back,” I say.

Bria waits in the vehicle as I check in with the elderly couple who runs Rock Creek Chalets, retrieving the keys before following the winding gravel driveway to a clearing where five well-spaced log cabins rest on a hill with a view of the hills and forests. The vehicle rolls to a stop but I don’t kill the engine.

“Pick one,” I say. Bria’s eyes narrow as a slow smile stalks across her face.

“Pick one?”

“You heard me, Pancake.”

“You rented all five?”

I open my hand to display the five keys that had been warming within my fist. “I don’t want people to think I’m committing murder when I keep my promise to destroy you.”

Bria laughs, her eyes dancing in the afternoon light. “These are hardly university-approved lodgings, Professor,” she says as she takes in the rustic logs and private hot tubs. “Who signs off on your grants, exactly?”

“You’re right, it’s not really university protocol. But neither is me being arrested for making you scream in some cookie-cutter hotel room. Hence, I’m paying separately from the grant. Pick one.”

Bria points to the chalet furthest up the hill and her devious grin has my dick begging for relief.

“Good choice,” I say, and we park in front of the log home.

We get out of the car and head to the trunk to retrieve our bags. Bria’s packed light with just a backpack in addition to her equipment, but she grabs the shopping bags of food and lunges for the smaller of two duffels before I catch her wrist and push it away. She gives me a knowing giggle that ricochets through my heart.

“What do you have in there, Dr. Kaplan?” she teases as she lunges for it again.

“Hands off, Pancake.”

“Maybe I should stay in the first cabin and you take this one,” she says, her fingers now darting for the keys shoved into my back pocket. I manage to swerve before she can snag one, but she sets down the shopping bags and launches an attack of grabby fingers. “Wouldn’t want to appear improper, Professor. Section seven of the Berkshire University Travel and Expenses Policy states that faculty shall not—”

“Pancake,” I say, sweeping Bria over my shoulder and trapping her bare legs against my chest. “I don’t give a fuck what the policy says. Now give me the key for number five while you’re down there.”

Bria’s rare, musical laugh follows me as I grab a few of the bags with my free hand and head toward the cabin. She pulls the handful of keys from my back pocket and when we get to the door, I set her down so she can unlock it, unveiling a rustic, welcoming interior of handmade rugs and antique decorations. An old pair of vintage rawhide snowshoes hang above the mantle of a stone fireplace in the living room to the left, a small kitchen and breakfast nook spread to the right, with a set of stairs to the bedroom and bathroom straight ahead.

“I hate it even more than the cherry tree. Show me the upstairs so I can determine the full depths of my disdain,” Bria says.

I set down all the bags aside from the small black duffel and turn to her slowly. Her grin is so full of cocky mischief that my bones turn as hot as molten steel with just a glance of her smile.

“I am going to fuck that attitude right out of you, woman.”

I toss Bria over my shoulder once more and stomp up the stairs to the sound of her laughter, feeling like I just won all the lotteries in the world having her trapped in my embrace. All the ideas of what I want to do to her, with her, swirl in my head until they blind me to anything else, as though the outside world has fallen away.

And I meant everything I said. I will destroy her. I will fuck her until that sharp tongue of hers can’t form a single word.

The bed creaks and groans as I toss Bria down on the mattress and drop the duffel to the floor with a muffled thud. “Get this off right now,” I order as I straddle her narrow hips and work the zipper of her skirt down with trembling hands. My need for her overwhelms all reason and it takes the last of my sanity to not tear her clothes apart. I need to taste her, to fill her, to hear her crumble at my touch.

Bria shimmies her hips as I pull her skirt and underwear down, her black panties damp with her arousal, my mouth watering with her scent. “What are you going to do to me, Professor?” she asks in a honeyed voice as though she’s a retro movie ingenue, the tone rich with seduction.

I lift her back off the bed and pull her shirt off, leaving her black bra on. “What am I not going to do to you is perhaps a more appropriate question.”

“Okay, what are you not going to do to me?”

“Nothing. There’s literally nothing I wouldn’t do to you,” I say before leaning down to devour her neck with desperate kisses. “I’m going to fuck your mouth. I’m going to fuck you with my tongue. You’re going to ride my face. You’re going to ride my cock. I’ll use toys. I’ll tie you up any way I want. And that tight little ass of yours? It’s mine, Bria. Before this night is over, it’s going to be dripping with my cum.”

Bria shudders as my hands caress her breasts and I pinch her nipples through the fabric of her bra. I bite her skin and suck on her flesh, capturing her salty, floral flavor on my tongue. She writhes beneath me, trying to find friction to satisfy her need, but I press my hand down on her stomach and keep her in place, determined to take my sweet time.

And I do exactly that. I take the time to explore her skin with my lips and tongue, to trace every valley of flesh with my fingers. I mold and shape her body in my palms. I catch her moans with kisses and let them hum in my mouth. When she’s here in the present with me and the outside world is nothing more than a dream, I carve a path of nips and bites down her body, wrapping my hands around her calves and pulling her to the edge of the bed where I kneel in worship to the most formidable woman I’ve ever known.

“Open your legs for me,” I say, sitting back on my heels. Bria keeps hold of my gaze as she lets her knees part, dropping them slowly to the mattress. The soft, pink flesh of her center shimmers with moisture. She shudders as my palms skim the inside of her thighs. “I’ll never get tired of seeing you like this.”

“Like what?” she whispers through a faint smile.

How do her questions always cut right into me? She asks things other people don’t. She demands that I strip away all my layers so she can see inside. She doesn’t want to fill in the gaps for herself. She could just imagine an answer, like most people would. He means with my pussy exposed, or, Like I’m waiting for him. But those speculations? They wouldn’t be accurate.

“Vulnerable,” I reply, and her smile brightens with my honesty. “Like you trust me.”

“I do trust you.”

“Well then, Pancake,” I say as I push her thighs into the mattress. “Let me show you how much I deserve what I’ve earned.”

I lower my head and I feast on Bria Brooks.

I run my nose through her folds, inhaling her scent, dragging my tongue through her arousal before worshiping her clit. Everything she’s ever showed me she liked is seared into my memory, so when I press my tongue to her clit in swirls and circles, it’s with the perfect pressure. When I leave it to thrust into her pussy, it’s only long enough to increase her want and not her frustration. I make a slow pass through her folds and nip at her sensitive bud enough to make her squirm and moan, but not enough for true pain.

“Why are you so good at this?” she whispers, and my answer is to lift her legs from the bed, to bury my face between her legs and capture her hooded gaze with ravenous fire in my eyes. No matter how much I get of her, it’s never enough. I want more of her moans, more of her taste slipping across my tongue, more of her squirming desperation. I want more of my name passing through her lips like a prayer.

I hook one of her legs over my shoulder so I can push two fingers into her pussy and stroke her most sensitive flesh as I caress her swollen clit with my tongue. Bria bucks and clenches around my fingers. She grips the sheets and closes her eyes. She whimpers as I draw her orgasm out, and it might not be a scream, but the sound is delicious all the same.

I lay my hand across Bria’s chest to catch the thundering beat of her heart. With my other hand, I unbutton my shirt, and I let her go for only an instant as I take off my clothes. The relief of freeing my cock from the restraints of clothing is temporary, the need to bury myself in Bria nearly as painful.

I pull Bria with me as I lie on the bed, guiding her to straddle me as I grip the base of my erection. With her hands on my chest, she slowly lowers herself down, and I groan as pleasure wraps me in a warm embrace.

“You know, Dr. Kaplan,” Bria says as she picks up a steady rhythm, rolling her hips to find friction as she scrapes her freshly manicured black fingernails down my chest. “If you intend to keep your promise and put it in my ass, maybe I should put it in yours first. You know, dish it out before I take it.”

My hands go still at her waist and my heart thuds heavy beats that ring in my ears. “Pegging?” Bria nods. “You would do that?”

Bria giggles and it’s the most charming, most sexy sound I’ve ever heard. “Yes, I wouldn’t suggest it if I didn’t want to try.”

“Jesus Christ,” I whisper, dragging a hand down my face while trying to think of every unsexy thing I possibly can. Curdled milk. Toilet brushes. Duke when he eats grass and pukes it up on the lawn. None of it works, not with Bria grinding on my cock with a devious grin. “If you don’t come this instant I’m going to blow my chance.”Text © by N0ve/lDrama.Org.

Bria winks. She runs her fingers down her tongue and brings them to her clit. “I think that can be arranged.”

It takes everything in me not to release inside her as she rolls her hips and circles her sensitive bud until she comes apart, sweat-slicked and shuddering. When her orgasm subsides, she slips away from me and shifts to the end of the bed, her eyes darting between me and the black duffel in a question as I fist my cock with languid strokes.

“Go on then, open it and pick one.”

Bria’s excitement is nearly palpable as she whisks the bag from the floor with the speed of a striking snake and deposits it next to me. I watch as she opens it and rifles through the carefully packaged contents until she’s pulled out three strap-ons designed specifically for this purpose.

“I’ve never done this before. When was the last time for you?” she asks as her gaze shifts between them.

“About two years ago, but don’t let that affect your choice.”

Bria takes that for what it is and selects the largest of the three strap-ons, dangling the harness from a finger with a wicked smile. “Safe word?”

“Strawberry.”

“Done.” Bria’s smile ignites and she slips the soft straps up her hips and tightens them, the two-tone purple and clear dildo already centered in the yoke. “I didn’t just pick it because it was the biggest,” she says as she runs her fingers along the lavender satin and black lace of the harness. “It’s the prettiest too. How do I look?”

My dick twitches in my hand at the sight of her, with those dark, fierce eyes and her fists resting on her hips. “Like a fucking goddess.”

Bria’s grin turns feral. She could just as easily rip out my throat as fuck me blind. “Over there,” she says, pointing toward a vanity table without taking her eyes from mine. I’m caught in her gaze, wanting to remember her exactly as she looks right now. Willing to try anything. Ready to play. “Come on now, Eli. Over there. Put your hands on the vanity and wait for me.”

I do as she says, shifting off the bed with my dick still in my hand and my heart racing with anticipation. Bria rummages in the bag and I watch in the mirror as she saunters over with a bottle of lube, the curved dildo swinging with her motion. When she’s behind me, she takes my hips between her cool hands and moves them backward until I’m leaning at the angle she wants.

“Keep your eyes on me,” she says, her voice rich and seductive as she looks over my shoulder and meets my heated, lustful gaze in the mirror. The cap of the bottle snaps open. Bria breaks her stare away to watch as she drizzles it onto the crack of my ass and then the toy, and when she looks up my eyes are there, waiting. She smiles, clearly pleased that I’m following her instructions. She slides her fingers down the space between my cheeks and finds the hole, massaging it with lubed fingers. “Is there anything I shouldn’t do?”

“No,” I whisper on a shuddering breath. “Aside from going easy on me, I don’t think there’s anything you could possibly do that I won’t like.”

“Oh good,” she purrs. “Because I had no intention of going easy on you, Dr. Kaplan.” Bria slides the slick head of the toy over the clenched rim of my ass for several passes before massaging it, waiting as the intimate muscles start to give to the sensation. She asks me to take a few deep breaths and I do, and with one final lungful of air, she pushes the toy in on the exhale. It’s a hint of discomfort at first, the foreign feeling of fullness, but it rapidly dissolves into intense pleasure.

Eli,” Bria says in a sharp voice. My eyes snap open as she slides the dildo further in. “Eyes on me. I want you to watch me as I fuck you.”

“Christ,” I hiss. She slowly pushes the toy in, inch by inch, taking her sweet time to enjoy my growing desperation to be fucked, stopping only when she reaches the yoke of the harness. She stills for a moment, looking down between us as a moan escapes my lips. “You are going to be the death of me, woman.”

A flash of something unexpected passes over her face, so brief and fleeting that it’s gone by the time her gaze rejoins mine in the mirror. “I hope not. For you, I’d rather be the life. Only for you.”

Before I can ask her what she means, Bria starts to pick up a rhythm and any thoughts or questions become lost in euphoria. She takes long, steady strokes and grips my shoulder for leverage, using her free hand to follow the lines of bone and muscle in my back. She traces my tattoo. She grips my waist. And she watches me in the mirror as I grit my teeth and moan, trying to hang on to every second of pleasure.

Before long, Bria picks up more momentum. Glides become thrusts. She reaches in front of me and grips my cock with one hand, her other sliding across the sweat trailing down my throat until it clamps beneath my jaw. My heart nearly sets my bones on fire with furious beats. There’s a question in her eyes.

“Do it,” I say.

“Then say my name with the last of your breath,” Bria whispers, reciting my words from the library with a wink. She grins at me in the mirror and tightens her hand around my throat with surprising strength. She watches me, enraptured. She strokes my cock. She rails me with thrusts.

A tingling sensation zips up my spine. My legs feel numb and I press the heels of my hands on the edge of the vanity. My balls tighten and my muscles tense as the orgasm builds through me in waves, cum shooting across the mirror as I roar Bria’s name. My arms quake as pleasure rolls and rolls through every nerve, the cum still trailing in spurts across the wood. It feels like it might never end. I wish it never would.

When I’m utterly spent, my heart raging deafening beats in my ears, Bria slides out of me. Her eyes are still on mine in the mirror. She steps to my side and leans forward, her movement slow and predatory, and drags her tongue through the cum sliding down the polished surface. When she turns to face me, she swallows it down, humming with approval.

“Let it be known, Dr. Kaplan,” Bria says as she trails a hand down my neck and onto my chest, “you screamed for me first.”


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