Page 35 of Fundamentals of Being a Good Girl
“I do,” she pants, her eyes wide and green and so beautiful in the afternoon sunlight. “More than anything, but I want your cock inside me too—”
It’s too much. Her panting confession, her pretty eyes and pretty face and pretty tits. Her cunt sliding against me.
I grunt as jagged, angry bliss shreds through my stomach and tears its way up my cock, one hard jerk, and then full, thick spurts, coating her between the legs and staining my shirt.
“Fuck,” she breathes, her eyes down between us, watching my erection swell and spill, swell and spill. “That’s... fuck, Bram. That’s so hot.”
She pulls her wrist free of my grip and reaches down to catch some of my release on her fingertips. She licks it off, and my stomach clenches again, like my body needs to make sure that it drains every last drop around her.
The minute the orgasm lets me be, I fall back in the chair. Maddie and I are disheveled and sticky, and I can feel my heartbeat in my toes, behind my eyes, and I don’t think I ever want to move—but also, how the hell did I end up with my dick out and a naked adjunct perched on my lap?
Judging by the way Maddie’s teeth are sinking into her lower lip, I’m guessing she has the same question.
I make a decision.
“We’re both going to take a shower,” I say. “Well, another one for you. And then I’m making you coffee, and you’re going to drink it while you sit in my lap. Okay?”
She blinks, and in her eyes, I see the creeping shame and despair again, but there’s a soft kind of relief in the shape of her mouth. “Yes, sir,” she says, and I think thesiris a game attempt to tease me, to bring some levity to the moment, but all it does is make me push us out of the chair and into the shower together, where I get to my knees and lick her clit while water runs down my face and onto my cock.
I jerk myself so that we come together, so that I can know, at least once, what it’s like to climax with Maddie’s taste on my tongue.
Chapter Twelve
Bram
If I’ve ever wondered what it would take to make my curvy brat docile, two back-to-back orgasms seem to do the trick. Because fifteen minutes later, we are back in the chair, both of us in old Astra University shirts and comfy sweatpants. Maddie is holding a cup of coffee with both hands while she’s cuddled sweetly against my chest. I can see that she’s still a little upset, but when I gently clear my throat to indicate I’m about to speak, she doesn’t bolt, which feels like a good sign.
“I’m not upset you used my shower,” I say, “and I’m sorry for being so brusque earlier. I should have remembered the playdate, and more importantly, I should have trusted that you had everything under control.”
She seems surprised—taking a minute to sip the coffee and then frown down at her hands. “Thank you,” she says slowly. “I wasn’t expecting a— You don’t need to apologize. You were worried about your kids, and I was doing something kind of—” Even from this angle, I can see her wince. “Invasive.”
“You can use anything at the house,” I assure her. “Although I wasn’t expecting to find you wearing only a towel.” The tips of my ears burn a little and I’m glad she’s still looking down at her coffee right now. “But it wasn’t... unpleasant.”
She huffs a tired little laugh. “The only pleasant part of my day.”
I think about her crumpling face, her tears and how they spilled down to fall on her chest. Those body-shaking sobs as she wept in my arms.
“Tell me about your day, Maddie.”
She hesitates. “It was a little chaotic,” she answers. “That’s all.”
I can practically feel her reaching for her armor, trying to cover up all the soft and vulnerable parts of her—andno, she’s not allowed to do that, I’m not allowing it today. Right now, here in my lap with her body loose from the pleasure I gave it, her hair smelling like my shampoo and her hands cradled around my coffee mug, she’s mine to take care of. Even if it’s only for the next fifteen minutes.
I take care of what’s mine.
“Maddie.” My voice is firm. “Start with the shower and work your way backward.”
She takes a deep breath. Blows it out.
And then she tells me about her day.
I’m frustrated for her when I hear about her car being towed; I’m irritated on her behalf when she tells me about the shitty students in her class. But when she gets to the part about the student health center being closed, I’m genuinely confused. “Why does the closure mean you couldn’t take a shower this morning?”
Her thumb moves nervously on the coffee mug. “I don’t have a shower where I live.”
What?
“Where do you live?”
