Forbidden Obsessions (Deviant Desires of Bennington University #2)

Chapter Nine

Tomas

“ H i, honey, I’m home,” Olivia calls, shutting the door behind her. It’s finally Friday, and it’s been a hell of a week. “God, it smells really fucking good in here,” she says before kissing my neck.

“You’re favorite,” I say, smiling as I swell with pride.

“I can tell. Are you trying to get laid tonight, DeLuca?” she says in a sweet voice, fluttering her thick eyelashes.

“Yes, you’ve been depriving me, Miss Hamilton.” The two of us have been flying in different directions since Mia tried to take a baseball bat to my knees on Tuesday. Maura started chemotherapy. Her care team has had trouble accessing her port, so she and James asked me. I intend on keeping my word, so I agreed. James still hasn’t told Olivia, though. I grow more worried about her accidentally finding out and blaming me every day.

She clears her throat. “Excuse me? I do believe I’ve been the one deprived , Professor.” I drop the spatula in the tomato sauce as she hikes up her pencil skirt, revealing sheer black thigh-highs and a silk garter belt.

My mouth goes dry as I imagine my lips trailing the length of her leg, toned muscles and skin as smooth as silk. “Oh, Miss Hamilton, you better hope you weren’t dressed like a little cock tease in all of your classes today,” I warn, as my cock twitches.

“And if I was?” She shrugs, hopping onto the counter, cross-legged. Stirring, I turn my attention back to the bolognese sauce. My mouth waters as dinner and dessert sit side-by-side.

“Open,” I prompt, giving her a spoonful of the steaming sauce to try. She opens her legs with a devious smile, blowing to cool it down.

She moans salaciously as she savors the bite. My cock strains against my dress pants. Between her sweet smell, her luscious body, and the sound her beautiful mouth just made, I resign myself to my fate—forever a slave to Olivia.

Whatever she wants, wherever she goes, however she needs it, I will be there to provide it and more.

“I don’t think you’re being very astute, Professor.” I step back, dragging my eyes over her body once more.

My gaze stops at her crotch. “Fuck,” I hiss.

“For someone who champions attention to detail so frequently, you sure missed an important one,” she taunts. She has silky black panties hooked into the garter belt, but they’re crotchless.

Christ .

I turn the burners down so nothing burns and grab a chair to kneel on. “Apparently, I’m having dessert for dinner, huh?”

She writhes as a plant a kiss on her silky pelvis. Her hands work their way to the back of my neck, pulling me closer and closer, as the tip of my tongue flicks her sensitive, needy clit.

“Did you really wear this in class today?” I murmur against her.

“No,” she says in a breathy whisper. “I wanted to surprise you, so I changed at the apartment.”

“What a good girl you are, Miss Hamilton,” I muse, pulling the bud between my teeth.

“Fuck,” she cries, arching against the cabinet.

“Did you soak your panties in your lectures today as you came up with this plan?” I ask, rubbing my index and middle fingers along her wet pussy.

“God, yes,” she moans, tipping her head back. She cries out in shock as my palm slaps her swollen pussy.

“I’m not sure that answers my question, Miss Hamilton. Was that a cry of ecstasy, or were you admitting what a little whore you were today?”

“Both?” she questions.

I growl, frustrated with myself. Molten lava courses through me, pre-cum already threatening to erupt from my angry cock.

My fingers roughly grip her hips, pulling her to the edge of the counter. A gasp falls from her pert little lips. I need to fuck her now or I may actually self-implode. “Get down here,” I grit, pulling her onto the chair.

“Turn around and lift your hips for me, Olivia,” I say, unzipping my fly. She grips the white leather back of the chair, her head turned to watch me.

We both groan as I free my cock, giving a few languid pumps before lining myself up. My hand fists her curls, dragging her head back toward me. My cock juts out, almost to her lips.

“Spit on it, Olivia.” A string of saliva drips from her pink lips. I drag it down the length of my shaft. Her eyes are pools of emeralds, flicking between my rippling biceps and my cock.

I sink into her without warning, her tight cunt stretching to swallow me whole. “Good girl,” I praise, easing up my grip on her curls, but not my punishing pace on her pussy.

Our heady moans fill the air, echoing throughout the kitchen and the house. It feels so good to lose myself in her like this. While I wouldn’t consider it a dry spell, it’s been one of the longer stretches without sex for us. We’re intimate in other ways, sure—cuddling, showering together, acts of service—but sex has been such an integral part of our relationship that tonight feels reassuring.

“I feel you squeezing my cock, Olivia. Remind me what a good girl you are and come for me,” I groan, getting close myself. My arm reaches around, a palm firmly wrapped against her throat. I would never hurt her, and she knows it. The threat, probably the vulnerability, if I had to guess, sends her over the edge. I feel her trachea working to swallow air as I hold her against me, thrusting into her to the hilt relentlessly.

“Tomas,” she gasps into the back of the chair. I feel and watch her explode, my eyes eagerly trying to capture it all. Between her beautiful face scrunched in pleasure, her full tits bouncing rhythmically against the chair, and the sordid sight of my cock pumping in and out of her, it’s too much.

I tense, my release at the precipice. “Jesus Christ, Olivia,” I groan, burying and emptying myself into her completely. All the worry, ache, and angst over the past few weeks become a thing of the past once I collapse against her, spent.

Our chests heave in sync as we try to collect ourselves. “Well, that was dinner. Ready for dessert?” I ask, my breathing still labored.

“Go get cleaned up,” I say, planting a kiss on her lower back before I get up to do the same. As if on cue, her phone chimes with a text. She scurries across the room to retrieve it from her purse.

“Shit, I forgot,” she sighs, reading the message.

“What?” I ask, cleaning myself off with a paper towel and washing my hands.

“It’s Mia’s sorority thing tonight. She’s been hell bent on me going.” I look at her, trying to read her expression. Does she want to go, or is she trying to downplay because she feels guilty because I can’t go?

“Go have fun, Olivia. You’ve been working hard, and it’s college. Let your hair down for once, apple.”

“I don’t want to,” she pouts. I shrug. If she doesn’t want to go, she doesn’t want to go. I can’t force her into something she doesn’t want to do.

Besides that, who knows what kind of danger could be there? A bunch of nepo-babies drinking, fucking, and appeasing their egos all night—what could go wrong?

“You should go. Be a good friend to Mia. She works hard for her sorority, and it’s a fun excuse to get out.” She sighs as she types out a quick message and sticks her phone back into her purse. “Fine. It’s done. I’m going.”

She heads to the bathroom to get cleaned up as I plate dinner. Just as I dress the salad and set the plates down, James texts.

James: Tomas, sorry to bother you. I think Maura’s port has dislodged. Can you come take a look?

Tomas: Yes, but I can’t keep doing this, James. I’m bringing Olivia after we eat. She has to know. I can’t live with keeping this from her any more.

James: I understand. Sorry to have put you in such a difficult spot, James. I’m just trying to protect my family.

Tomas: Be there soon.

Olivia walks out, giving me a satisfied grin.

“What happened?” she says, her smile faltering as she takes in my grim expression.

“We’re going to your parents after dinner.”

“What happened, Tomas? What’s changed in five minutes?”

My mouth opens to give her an answer, but the truth is too dangerously close to rolling off of my tongue. I swallow thickly.

“Eat,” I prompt. Her chest heaves as her breathing accelerates. I feel horrible. I can tell that for the first time in months, she’s close to a panic attack, but if I tell her the truth now, there won’t be any chance of avoiding one.

“Everything is okay for right now, Olivia. Please eat,” I beg.

“I don’t do well with surprises, Tomas.” Tears form in her eyes. I can see it—her crumbling, the ground spiraling away from beneath her.

“I know, Olivia. The only thing I can say is I’m sorry.” I swallow around the lump in my throat. A few tears roll down her cheek, leaving black mascara in the areas she just cleaned up.

After a few moments, she takes a shuddering breath and picks up her fork, taking a delicate bite of pasta and sauce. “It’s good. Thank you,” she says, forcing herself to keep eating in politeness.

“Just let me know when you’re ready and we’ll go. If you’re too anxious to eat now, we can eat later, apple.” She nods, wiping her mouth. She stands up and collects her purse,signaling that she’s ready to go.

I grab my keys and lead her to the car, opening her door and buckling her in. She gives me a small peck back as I graze her lips before shutting her door and hopping in the driver’s side.

The drive is silent, both of our minds racing.

I park in the sprawling driveway. Olivia takes another shuddering breath, trying to summon bravery.

“Please know, Olivia, this wasn’t my idea, and I am so fucking sorry, sweetheart. So fucking sorry. I love you,” I tell her, wiping a tear from underneath her eye as one rolls down my cheek.

“You’re scaring me, Tomas,” she croaks. I wish I could comfort her, but there’s nothing I can say, nothing that I can prepare her for what she’s about to see.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” is all I can manage before we walk in the front door and it shuts behind us.