Tangled with the Professor (Bringing Home Trouble)

Chapter 8

Isabelle

It barely took me five minutes to get changed and pack up, my sights set on getting away from the toxic vibes my family were raining down on us. Mark held tight to my hand the entire way, and in what seemed like no time at all we were at his house.

This is the first time I’ve seen the good sized cottage on the outskirts of our college town. It’s beautiful, but I’m too wrapped up in his strong arm around me as he leads me up the cobbled walkway to the solid oak door to really notice much about the front garden. The air is cold, with the bite of a storm on the horizon, but I’m antsy and too warm in my coat.

He unlocks the door and lets me in, flipping on a light in the foyer to reveal a cozy cabin-like interior in warm, manly grays and beiges. As soon as he helps slide my coat down my arms, he catches my gaze and everything but his dark eyes fades away from my vision. Those eyes that can almost stop my heart are full of the same thing that suddenly wraps around my insides and fills me with even more heat than his toasty warm house.

I want him. Really want him. More than I did last night even, it feels like I’ll die if I don’t feel him inside of me soon.

I tip up my chin and make a soft sound and his lips are on mine. As if I’d communicated my needs with my eyes, his tongue is deep in my mouth, questing and taking. I slam my body against his and his arm wraps around my middle to hold me close. There’s no space between us, only our clothes, with the heat of our bodies burning to touch.

I shake with desire as I hold onto him, my arms locked tight around his neck, my fingers in his thick, soft hair. There’s almost an ache in my core, a yearning so deep it crawls all the way to my toes. My leg rises to wrap around his hips and with a groan he pushes me backwards until I’m pressed against the foyer wall. He stops kissing me to give me a slow smile that has my heart racketing against my ribs.

“I haven’t stopped thinking about how good you feel wrapped around me, little girl,” he says, combing his fingers through my hair.

I nod, and for the first time since we left my house, I feel completely safe and cared for. Mark saw that I was losing it, unable to take how they were treating him, and he instantly whisked me away to this refuge. I pull him closer so my mouth is near his ear.

“I want you too, Daddy,” I say, my cheeks blazing.

But it feels so right and his hard bulge jumps against my belly as he pulls me even tighter to him. He makes a low, growling noise in his throat and begins hungrily kissing down my neck.

“That’s right,” he says, tugging at the neckline of my top with his teeth. “Let your daddy take care of you.”

“Yes, please,” I moan, pushing his head further down.

He steps back long enough to whip my sweater over my head, smoothing his hands down my bare arms as his eyes grow dark as coals while he takes in my body. My nipples rise under his hot gaze, and he runs his thumbs over each one through the lacy fabric of my bra.

“I want to see my little girl’s pretty pink nipples,” he says, his voice a deep rumble that makes me squeeze my thighs together in anticipation.

“Yes, Daddy,” I say and with shaking hands I undo the clasp behind my back, sliding the bra down and tossing it away.

He looks up and down my torso with a feral grin, licking his lips and making me shudder and want to grab him. But I stand there like a good girl, waiting.

“Fucking gorgeous,” he says, once again pressing me against the wall and leaning to capture my breast in his mouth. His tongue rolls over my tight nipple and my whole body squirms for more. “You have the most perfect tits, and I could lick them forever, but I need to taste more of you.”

Yes, yes, this is what he’s made me love so much. I melt against the wall as he kisses lower, fast and full of hunger for my body. He tugs at the zipper of my jeans, dragging the stiff fabric down my legs until they’re at my ankles.

“I need you naked,” he breathes, kissing my thighs. He pushes them apart and slides his hand between them to mold his palm against my aching heat. “Oh, fuck, you’re so damn wet already.”

“I can’t help it,” I whimper.

My hips are moving, my whole body craving his touch, his tongue, but he’s teasing me now, with a wild look in his eyes.

“I love it,” he tells me, two fingers nudging into me as his eyes close.

“Oh, please don’t stop,” I plead.

He chuckles, kissing me deeply as he pushes his fingers deeper. I gasp against his mouth at the delicious invasion.

“I’m not stopping, little girl. Tell me what you want.”

My hand slides down his hard chest to the even hard, throbbing rod in his pants. I press against it, making it jump against my palm. “This,” I say. “Give me this.”

“Don’t worry. Daddy’s going to give you every inch of his big cock. Deep inside this tight, wet pussy of yours.”

“Yes,” I moan, spreading my legs wider, craving so much more.

“Tell me,” he demands.

“Give me your cock, Daddy. Every great big inch.”

“Good girl.”

He drops and plunges his face between my trembling thighs, burying his tongue so deep in my slick folds that I cry out at the rush of pleasure. He laps at my juices, moaning as if my body is the tastiest dessert he’s ever eaten. He nips at my swollen clit and I can barely stand under his onslaught, but he holds onto my hips, keeping me from melting into a heap.

“I need to fuck you so badly, little girl,” he says breathlessly between licks. “I need so much more than my tongue inside you.”

His words and the way he circles my clit breaks the dam and I cry out, clutching at his hair as he keeps driving me. My muscles contract, my body sings, and he still keeps going.

“I can’t…” I gasp. “Oh God, what are you doing to me?”

Another orgasm crashes on the heels of the first and I barely feel his fingers digging into my hips as he pushes his tongue deeper and harder inside me. I’m shaking, knees like jello, powerless against all that pleasure he’s giving me. I start slipping down the wall, on the verge of tears as more bliss washes over me.

He holds me up, standing and pulling my limp, shaking body into his arms. His hard cock presses against my belly and I moan. I should be beyond need at this point but I still want more.

“Now, Daddy.” I beg, looking up at him.

With his face covered in my juices, he slams his mouth against mine, his tongue inside me again, tangling with mine. His hands run down my body, feverishly pulling me closer, his big palms sliding over my ass and cupping me so that I’m grinding against his shaft.

The rough feel of his jeans makes me rumble with discontent and I push away to grapple at the zipper. He laughs and taps my hands away, then picks me up, carrying me through the living room and down a wide hallway. Kicking open a door, he takes me into his bedroom and a second later I’m on his bed.

He stands over me, his gaze shifting up and down my naked body, splayed and ready for him, and yes, very, very eager. He whips off his shirt and lowers his jeans and boxer briefs, those intoxicating dark eyes never straying from mine.

Holding out my arms to him, he falls onto the bed beside me, taking a handful of my hair as he kisses me.

I turn to the side and reach for that cock I want so much. It’s hot and silky, alive and pulsing in my grasp. He groans against my mouth as I begin to stroke up and down, running my thumb through the moisture at the tip. I begin to wriggle closer, slinging my leg over his hip.

He laughs, pulling back to smile at me. “Tell me what you want, my perfect girl.”

There’s so much fiery heat in his eyes I should be turned to steam. My rapidly pounding heart feels full and I return his smile. This man makes me feel so happy, so safe and cared for that I feel even more sure he was the one worth waiting for.

“You,” I say. “I want you.”

He swipes his tongue against my lower lip and pulls my face close again for another soul deep kiss. I drag my body closer, desperate to feel that hot, silky shaft against my most sensitive spots. When I’m rubbing my wet heat against him, he growls and tugs at my hair.

“I think I’m going to fuck you now,” he tells me.

“Yes, Daddy, please, please put all of this huge cock inside me.”

His eyes roll back and he goes wild, rising over me and pushing my legs wide apart. He moves his dripping tip back and forth against my opening, teasing my clit. His muscles strain as if he’s barely holding onto his sanity, his gaze moving up and down my body to finally focus on my face.

“I’m going to fuck your little pussy and come inside you, Isabelle. You’re mine now, understand?”

“Yes,” I say, pushing at his arms, his muscles rippling with barely controlled need. “I want you so much. Please, please fuck your little girl until—”

I’m cut off with a harsh gasp as he shoves deep inside me. I begin to move underneath him and the little sparks of bliss start coming back. I arch my back so my nipples rub against his chest, loving the feel of the crisp hairs against the tight peaks.

Slowly, he begins to move, easing out and sliding in, so deep I’m sure he’ll break me in two, but in the best possible way. I wrap my legs tight around him as his speed increases, along with my panting breaths. I don’t know how I can possibly have another orgasm with that great big cock pounding me so deep and hard, but I feel it rising in my core, curling my toes and making me dig my fingernails into his shoulders.

“Mark…” I say, my eyes closing as my head thrashes on the pillow.

“Tell me, little girl.”

“Fuck me even harder. I love it so much. I love your cock so much.”

“Damn it, Isabelle,” he rumbles. His body tenses and he thrusts once more with a feral roar, At the same time, he somehow finds my clit, shoving his hand between our sweaty bodies. My shout echoes his and just as I think I’m going to completely lose myself and never be able to come back, his mouth meets mine.

Our bodies slow, become less frantic and soon I hear myself laugh against his lips. He collapses against me and buries his head against my neck, his breath hot in my hair.

“Damn it, Isabelle,” he repeats. “Holy fuck, that was even better than last night.”

He suddenly lifts himself on his elbow to search my face, his eyes full of concern. I can barely focus on him as my body is still slowly coming back to earth from the heights he brought me to.

“Yes,” is all I can say.

He pulls me close and I rest my head on his shoulder, my heart still not fully slowed down yet, but I’m able to run my hand up and down his strong arm. I can take in his rugged face, the hint of stubble from skipping his morning shave, the dark, coffee brown eyes and slightly furrowed brows, even in total relaxation. This is the man I want to spend the rest of my life with, share so many more moments like this with, but harsh reality is starting to creep back in.

He shakes his head ever so slightly and kisses my brow before moving back to capture my gaze. He stares into my eyes for a second before speaking. “I love you,” he says simply, quietly. The voice that means business, that tells me this is real.

“I love you, too,” I tell him, feeling tears well up in my eyes.

I don’t say anything else but the memories of yesterday and this morning are rushing back through the shield Mark built around us, here in his house. He seems to recognize my worries, but doesn’t say anything else, instead rising to swing his legs over the side of the bed.

“You must be starving, because I know I am.”

Instantly, my stomach growls. I barely ate any dinner last night and of course we fled the house without breakfast, getting here to safety and sanity as fast as we could. He strides across the bedroom that I’m now noticing is decorated in black and white, with sleek, modern wood furniture. His muscular body is on full display, distracting me from the landscape photos on the wall. He stalks like a wild animal, completely sure of himself and his surroundings.

I wish I was that confident, but I drag the sheet with me as I get up to look for my clothes in the front hall. With a grin, he tosses me his plush robe while pulling on a t-shirt and sweatpants. I gape at him in this ultra casual attire that I’ve never seen before. It does nothing to dampen the power and authority that he radiates and it somehow looks even sexier than his crisp suits.

He tells me he’s going to make us some breakfast and coffee, and playfully slaps me on the ass as I pass him to retrieve my clothes. I stop and he pulls me into a kiss. I wrap my arms around him, unable to be even a few feet apart from him. It’s only because I hear my phone buzzing from my jeans pocket in the hall that I pull away.

“Real life,” I groan. “I’m going to put that damn thing on silent for the rest of the day.”

“Make sure it’s not important,” he says, ever the professor.

“Yes, sir,” I say, laughing at his darkening eyes.

My laughter is cut off as the call ends and almost immediately starts buzzing again. Whoever it is seems determined. I dig the phone from my pocket and my mood fades.

“What?” Marks asks, sensing my distress.

I look up at him, cold fear for our newfound happiness clear in my eyes. “It’s my mother.”