A Dance for Him (13 page)

I don’t know, and don’t need to know, as I surrender to the deluge of glorious sensations, to the scent of my arousal, to the sound of flesh against wet flesh, to the feeling of complete surrender to this gorgeous man who’s pounding into me and holding me close to him, as though he never wanted to let me go …

“You want me to come inside you, don’t you, Paige?” I hear him growl between kisses.

“Yes, Dr. Morland,” I moan, and I barely recognize my voice, trembling as it is with desire and raw primal need. “Yes, fill me up, Dr. Morland, mark me as yours …”

My voice trails off in a moan as I feel my inner walls contract around his thick shaft, as though I were milking him.

He shudders and emits a grunt as I feel his cock pulse and spurt inside me, and we collapse against each other as he slips out of me.

“Oh, Paige, Paige, Paige,” he whispers, pulling me closer to him so that my cheek is resting on his chest and his face is buried in my hair.

I nuzzle up to him - how could anyone do otherwise, when wrapped in those strong, muscular, reassuring arms? - and we lie there in silence for a bit, bathing in the afterglow.

Part of me still can’t quite believe that
Sebastian Morland
is cuddling me, that he still doesn’t seem to want to let me go.

It’s the part of me that finally looks up at him, fearing to find casual indifference or polite obligation.

Except I don’t.

He’s still flushed and glowing, his eyes are sparkling, and he’s got an expression of intense happiness on his face.

“Thank you, Dr. Morland, that was amazing,” I murmur.

He looks at me with an expression of delight and incredulity. “I can’t believe you’re thanking me, Paige. You were wonderful.”

“Well, Dr. Morland, it was just that good,” I say, smiling flirtatiously, and he counters my reply with a kiss - a long, tender, sweet kiss like the one he gave me last week before I left.

“Speaking of which,” I continue once we break for air, “I have something for you.”

He raises his eyebrows quizzically.

“Give me a moment,” I say, slip out of his embrace, and get out of bed.

He sighs, almost reflexively, and I turn to blow him a little kiss before I leave the room.

Once outside I grab my handbag and take it back with me to his bedroom.

“What is it, Paige?” he inquires smilingly. “What is so important that you have to leave me stranded here without you? Although I’ve got to say I love watching the way you’re walking right now …”

I look at him, puzzled for the moment, until I realise that of course my gait is betraying my freshly-fucked state, and blush - especially when it occurs to me that he probably also can see the thick cum that’s running down my leg.

He smiles roguishly when he sees that I’ve understood him, and stretches his arms out, as though to gather me in them.

Of course, I’m only too glad to tumble back into bed with him …

“So, Paige, what is it you have for me?”

I open my bag, pull out the envelope he gave me earlier, and hand it to him.

He doesn’t take it - instead he looks at me, slightly perplexed. “I don’t understand, Paige.”

“I don’t want to be paid for this, Dr. Morland. You don’t have to pay me for this. Really. I’d have done it even if we hadn’t had that arrangement.”

“Oh, Paige,” he sighs as he slides an arm around me. “I know that. I’ve never thought you were doing it just for the money - I could never have allowed myself to do it otherwise. But I’m not going to take back that envelope. You need the money. What are you going to do, go back to the strip club? It would kill me to think of you going back to that place. I know I have no right to tell you not to go there, but - I’m sorry, I don’t think I could bear the thought of you going back there, with all those men.”

“I - I could always find another job, a less controversial one,” I stammer, though all I can think is:
He couldn’t bear it if I went back to the club? Because of all those men, he said - surely he’s not jealous? I mean, oh my God, surely he’s not implying he has feelings for me?
“Maybe a waitressing job or something.”

He looks at me tenderly, a bit sadly as he strokes my cheek. “I don’t want to complicate your life, Paige. I don’t think you understand, and perhaps this may seem odd to you, but I want to take care of you financially. I - I just want to. I understand if you don’t want me to just give you money after every visit - I can’t say that I find that arrangement all that comfortable either - but I’d like to make sure you’re well taken care of, that you won’t be any worse off on my account. We could call it an allowance, or we could think of it as a privately-funded stipend if you prefer. A stipend that would continue even if you decided you didn’t want to come and see me any more, although of course I hope you’ll want to keep seeing me. The only thing I ask of you in return is that you never go back to work at the strip club. That wouldn’t offend you, would it?”

He looks so noble, so melancholic that I can’t help but feel touched by it. It’s so strange, the contrast between this courtliness and his dirty talking earlier, when he was telling me to show him my oral skills - strange but reassuring. I don’t know why exactly, but I guess it just makes me feel safe to know that his capacity for lewdness doesn’t preclude him from being terribly sweet and courtly the way he was before our relationship took a turn for the sexual …

“Oh, Dr. Morland,” I breathe. “No, you’re not offending me in the least.”

He smiles, looking relieved.

“I just - I’ve never done a thing like that before.”

His face falls a bit, and I kiss him, just because I can’t bear the idea of causing him pain.

“What if I said yes,” I venture, and his face lights up again. “What if I say yes, on one condition?”

“I’m sure I’ll have no problem fulfilling it, whatever it is, so tell me what it is you want.”

“I don’t want you to feel that you can only see me when you give me money. I - I’d like to see you more often, actually, not just on Saturday. I mean, if you are okay with it, that is.”

His eyes widen, and a radiant smile spreads over his face as he grabs my hand and kisses it.

“I don’t think that will be a problem,” he murmurs, and to my relief I see he’s got his mischievous twinkle back. “In fact I was rather hoping you’d stay the night.”

It’s my turn to look surprised and delighted.
He wants me to stay the night? he wants to spend the whole night with me?
is all I can think.

For some reason he seems almost to be wooing me, which I don’t really understand. After all, he’s already had me, and I’ve just told him I want to “see” him more frequently - it’s not exactly necessary to pursue me at this point, surely?

“I - um, yes, oh my God, yes,” I stammer, hardly able to believe what I’m hearing from him.

He beams. “That would make me very happy, Paige. In the meantime, have you had dinner?”

“N-no, I had a little snack at four.”

“Well then, let’s take care of that. Put that envelope back in your bag, we’ll talk about numbers later. Come with me to the kitchen, I’ll whip up a little something. And you can put on one of my shirts for now, I think I’d get pretty distracted if you were sitting around naked. Though I won’t exactly object if you want to keep those stilettos on.”

He kisses me, gets out of bed, zips up his pants, then walks over to his wardrobe, where he retrieves a shirt and tosses it at me with a cheeky wink.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

“I like seeing you in my shirt,” he says when I put it on, and grins when he sees me run my hand over the incredibly soft and comfortable fabric, as though to make sure I’m not dreaming - I can barely believe that I’m now wearing Sebastian Morland’s shirt, and that he’s going to cook dinner for us.

Almost as though I were a girlfriend of his or something …

Surely he can’t mean for me to get that impression?

And yet everything about his manner, everything that he’s done so far suggests that he’s somehow almost
courting
me.

Not that I’ve had all that much experience with being courted, it’s true. But that’s how it is in movies, isn’t it, where the guy wants to see his girl in his shirt, as a sign that she’s his?

He
did
say just now that he wanted to mark me as his. I know that maybe that’s just dirty talk - I mean, it was incredibly hot to hear him say that - but there’s something affectionate and proprietorial about his manner in general as well.

Like the way he’s slipping his arm around me and kissing me when I catch up with him …

God, I can’t stop smiling, in fact my cheeks kind of hurt, to tell the truth, and I probably look like a perfect idiot.

But then he can’t seem to stop smiling either …

“What do you think of some pasta, Paige? Something that won’t take too long. Next time you come over I’ll prepare something fancier, I suppose I wasn’t really sure if you would stay.”

“Oh, Dr. Morland,” I murmur, my eyes widening at the idea that he’d even think I would decline an invitation like that from him.

He laughs. “By the way, I’ve been meaning to tell you that you really don’t have to call me Dr. Morland when we’re alone. Hell, you don’t have to call me Dr. Morland in class for that matter - some of your classmates unilaterally address me with my first name - although it’s true that suddenly switching now might be risky, it wouldn’t surprise me if more than one person suspects that I’ve been having quite the crush on you.”

He glances at me a little slyly as he finishes that sentence, as though to check my response, and seems pleased when I turn red and smile at him in a flustered way.

“Y-you’ve been having a c-crush on me all this time?” I stammer - I can barely bring myself to say the word, it feels so much as though I’d be flattering myself with it, even though
he
was the one who used it first.

A grin overspreads his face - God, he’s so ridiculously handsome when he looks happy. “Well, actually that was a bit of an understatement. I’ve been crazy about you, Paige. Surely you must have noticed. By the way, what do you think of some fresh pesto sauce?”

“Oh yes, that sounds lovely, Dr., uh, I mean Sebastian,” I manage to say, grateful for the slight distraction as I attempt to process what he’s just said. “Um, would you like some help?”

“Thank you, Paige, but I’d rather you just sit on that barstool over there. I’d like to do this for you tonight,” he says, coloring slightly, before he continues, this time in a lighter, cheekier tone: “I’m not being entirely disinterested here, I can’t say I mind the idea of checking out you and your bare legs while I work on this.”

Well, why not, I’m quite enjoying the view of him shirtless as well, after all!

He winks at me as I obediently take up my perch on the barstool, then opens the fridge and grabs various containers, which he piles on the counter. He’s set the water on the stove to boil when he looks over at me again, somewhat expectantly. “So you didn’t notice, really? I can’t imagine that. I thought I was being scandalously obvious.”

“I did think you were staring at me a lot,” I confess. “But then I also thought you were probably just being a bit flirty, in a friendly way. And also that maybe it was my imagination … Because I had a huge crush on you as well.”

“Did you now,” he says, looking quite roguish as he puts the fresh basil, garlic and pine nuts in the food processor. “I did suspect you might have a bit of a thing for me, I must say. I just didn’t feel like I was in a position to do anything about it. My beautiful, innocent student. Fuck, I felt like such a perv.”

“And then you saw me at the club.”

“Oh God, you have no idea how upset I was when I saw you there. Of course I was also really turned on, so there was that.
So she’s not so innocent
, I thought. And even though the idea of you dancing for other men was killing me, I suppose it also made me feel less hopeless, even if I didn’t quite realise it at the time. I was pretty shocked when you told me you were a virgin, you know, I really hadn’t expected that.”