Inferno Anthology (10 page)

“Oh, my God,” she let out as he continued to run his tongue along the flesh that was now so exquisitely alive. “Oh, Errol.”

“Oh!” Her cry, foreign and feral, echoed in the bathroom as her body was elevated to a level of pleasure that seemed impossible. She hovered there for a moment, an exquisite moment of breathlessness, of waiting for the ultimate.

Errol gripped her hips, tight and fierce as his tongue made the final assault. With one long, slow, delicious lick, Taryn’s body exploded in a rapture of ecstasy. She dug her fingers into his hair, keeping his mouth pressed to hers as her body moved, convulsed with a will of its own. Her legs straightened out, down to the tips of her toes.

Before her body could stop throbbing, Errol straightened up and plunged his erection deep inside her, filling her. Her eyes widened as a short, sharp pain cut into her pleasure, then subsided, replaced by the feeling of fullness and intense sensation of him rocking in and out of her until he came, groaning with his release.

Now, as she lay beside him, the heat of his body warming hers, she longed to relive every stroke, every lick, and every tantalizingly fucking again.

Errol slid his hand between her thighs and quickly aroused her. “I don’t want to push you to do too much too fast.”

After that first, quick romp in the bathroom, they’d made love again, slower and longer. They’d finally fallen asleep in each others’ arms, only to awaken a few hours later when they began anew. Insatiable for each other, and wanting this from the first day they met.

“Then let me push you.” She turned to face him then rose to straddle him.

He cocked a brow of interest as he watched her. “My innocent virgin, do you know what to do up there?”

“I’ll figure it out,” she said with a teasing lick of her lips.

With an intense gaze fixed on her inner thighs, Errol propped himself up on a pillow, clasped his fingers together and brought them behind his head.

Suddenly self-conscious, Taryn wondered if she’d not taken on more than she could handle. Uncertain of her moves, she nestled over his hardness. Though she longed to have him inside her, simply gliding over the length of him brought her a degree of pleasure.

She looked at Errol to gauge his appreciation. His eyes narrowed and his tongue played on the edge of his lips, but he remained somewhat aloof.

For a moment she considered abandoning all efforts, but her body wasn’t quite ready to let go just yet. If there was one thing she’d learned over the course of the night, it was the intense pleasure of an orgasm and how to attain it. With slow, methodical movements, she sought her own pleasure, using her fingers to tease her nipples, while she glided over him repeatedly, sliding back and forth over the length of his erection, causing him to groan. The rising crescendo of her orgasm came quickly, surprisingly quick. Closing her eyes, she leaned back and let the waves of her orgasm sweep over her.

“You’re being selfish,” Errol accused in a throaty voice that dripped with arousal. He reached up to grab her breasts, his fingers hungry, almost angry. “Don’t toy with me. I’ve waited too long to thoroughly fuck you. I’m still not through with you yet.”

Still riding the ebbing ripples of her ecstasy, she looked at him and murmured, “I don’t want to push you to do too much, too fast.”

“Never.” With a force and speed that surprised her, he gripped her by the waist, threw her back on the bed and mounted her, driving deep until she let out a guttural moan. With savage thrusts he pounded out his need, gripping her breasts, while rotating his hips with each stroke, groaning loudly like a beast. Her head was spinning with the unbelievable ecstasy of him filling her to the brink, only to empty out and plunge back in, each stroke bringing her almost to the brink of climax. With one final earth-shattering thrust, he quickly erupted inside her, filling her, while she climaxed, shuddering all around her. He kissed her savagely on her lips, gripping her breasts as he plucked her nipples, and said, “Mine.”

After a surprisingly brief amount of time, he rose. “Time to get to school.” Without looking back at her, he headed to the shower.

Taryn remained in bed, letting the sensations fade away, but as they did, reality set it. For a long moment she sat mulling over the more serious implications of their night together. She’d abandoned all concern for the consequences and had allowed the pleasures of her body to take priority. Now she faced them head on.

“Aren’t you going to get ready?” Errol said as he emerged from the bathroom, damp and glistening in all his glory.

“Oh God, Errol. We didn’t…we didn’t use precaution. What if I get pregnant?” she asked.

“You won’t,” he called out.

“You’ve had so many lovers, what if I catch something from you?”

He walked out, dressed in charcoal slacks and a white shirt. Occupied with the knotting of his tie, he didn’t look up at her. “I won’t give you anything.”

“How do you know?”

Making the final adjustments on his tie, he looked at her, his eyes hooded with boredom. “Because I know. I’m clean. I live cleanly, and I’m tested, but I’m not going into that now. Now get up and get dressed. You’re late.”

Unsatisfied with his answer, she got out of bed and took a quick shower. By the time she came out, he was gone.

“If you look at this plate, what do you see?” Errol stood at the front of the class, a cellophane covered dish on the desk in front of him.

Seething as she’d gotten out of her taxi, she’d hoped to have a chance to berate him for leaving her in such a way. She might be innocent when it came to such games, but she wasn’t about to let him treat her like some… some slut. It’d taken every French swear word she could think of to get the driver to hurry up, all so she could run into the school breathless and slip into class in the nick of time.

His gaze briefly darted to her when she entered, but he was otherwise the professional she’d come to know in class.

“Pureed potatoes,” one student called out.

“Shredded chicken in a creamy sauce,” other one said.

“Those look like overcooked carrots.”

“And all together, what do you have?” Errol asked.

“Dinner at my grandmother’s house,” one bold student dared.

Errol grinned. “Right. A plate of mush… bland mush at that.” Clasping his hands together he came around his desk and leaned back, crossing his long legs out in front of him.

Taryn tried not to imagine the heated moments they’d shared that morning and tried to concentrate on what he said.

“Today we’re going to look at textures, colors and even shapes as we bring a plate together.”

Finally able to bring her thoughts to the task at hand, Taryn took notes and managed to be attentive throughout the class. Only when Errol, strolling among the students, came to pass behind her and gently brush his hand along her rear end did she falter.

She was excited to see she still interested him, but could have slapped him for risking such a move right there in class.

“Chef King.” The dual supremacy of his name echoed in the air as Taryn called out to him at the end of the lesson. As the class emptied, she made her way to his desk. “I hope you’ll understand how important this all is to me.”

He sat behind his desk, clasped his hand over his belly and looked up at her. “I would like to think my classes are important to everyone here.”

“I just want to make it clear.” She set both hands on his desk and leaned forward, hoping to get through to him. “My scholarship here means everything to me.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“I would hate to put it in jeopardy because you insist on playing your silly games.”

He rose to face her as a wicked grin took hold of his lips. “They didn’t seem that silly this morning.”

A streak of blush heated her cheeks. At first the responsibility fell on the flash memory of that morning, but she quickly realized it was also the infuriating manner in which he made light of the situation she now found herself in.

His hand crept along the top of the desk until the tips of his fingers met hers. She recoiled with surprising speed. For a moment she considered her options. She could threaten to move out of his apartment; that was hardly viable. She could threaten to report him. Who would believe
he
was harassing
her
? In anything, they’d accuse her of stalking him.

Crossing her arms in front of her, she looked at him. “Please, Errol,” she said softly.

A wistful smile came to his lips and his eyes softened. “I wouldn’t dream of doing anything that could ruin your chances of attaining your goals.”

“I’m glad we understand each other. Thank you.” Before he could say more, she turned and left the room.

That night, as she waited for him to arrive, she contemplated the situation she’d gotten herself into. Errol King was a handsome, charismatic, if not enigmatic man who thrilled her in ways she never would have imagined.

Yet, she felt she’d allowed herself to play in a game she couldn’t win.

Since arriving after school, she’d changed clothes three times; out of her school clothes and into lace panties and a semi-transparent blouse. Too obvious, she argued. He’ll think he’d won. Going to the opposite spectrum, she’d pulled on unflattering sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt. Again, too obvious, she thought. He’d think she was deliberately trying to downplay their affair.

In the end, she opted for her dressy pajamas. Blue and white striped cotton, they were legitimately relaxed enough for a cozy night at home without any hint of sexuality. The message would be clear; their sexual liaison was over.

She settled in on the sofa, plugged the television to a food channel and opened her French technique book on her lap. The moment she heard the doorknob rattle, however, she looked down at her dowdy pajamas and wondered if this was really the message she wanted to send him. Did she really want it to be over? As the door opened, her skin tingled. As his footsteps approached, her body heated up.

“Nice try,” he said.

The sound of his voice, deep, masculine and sensual flowed over her like a velvet hand, soothing her and making her forget the promise she’d made to herself; it was over.

She turned to him, her face a mask that hid the sexual tension she felt inside; at least that’s what she hoped he’d see.

“Those pajamas,” he went on. “If you’re trying to dissuade me from seducing you tonight, you’ve failed miserably.”

Getting to her feet, she was pleased and disappointed. “And if you think you’ll succeed in sedu…”

He took one forceful step toward her, wrapped his hand around the nape of her neck and pulled her in to kiss her. Her resolve melted in that instant, and when his tongue swept over hers and she tasted his hunger, all she wanted was his body pressed against hers.

Through the heated kiss, he yanked off the bottom of her pajamas, tore off her panties and grabbed her legs to pull her up and wrap her legs around his waist. With a tight hold around his neck, she held on as he carried her to the dining table.

His kisses plundered her neck, and down to the valley of her breasts. With a savage roar, he grabbed each panel of her top and pulled it apart, sending buttons flying across the room. Her breasts, exposed and heaving with the need to be touched, begged for his attention.

“Tell me you haven’t been thinking of this very moment all day,” he challenged. His mouth clamped onto a breast and drew an orgasmic cry out of Taryn. “Tell me the day wasn’t endless and tortured with wanting me.”

He hurriedly pulled off his shirt and unfastened his pants to let them pool at his feet.

In a brief moment of lucidity, Taryn put her hand to his chest to stop him. “Tell me what you would do if I were to stop you… right now.”

Amusement played in his eyes, though they smoldered with undeniable passion. “Would you, Taryn?” He smiled, that wicked smile that weakened her every time.

“Errol…I can’t,” she whispered. “I want you in me too much, even if I try.”

He leaned in close. “Then just try to stop me,” he whispered hoarsely as he buried his erection in the soft, moist folds of flesh that awaited him. “Try to stop me,” he repeated as he continued his plunge, deeper and fuller each time, taking her breath away with each thrust.

All sense of pride and propriety left her as she screamed out her pleasure and clung to him for more. Only when he stopped, sweaty, his hair rumpled in front of his face, and spent, did she look soberly at him. She leaned back, her elbows propped up on the table and felt strangely free and vulnerable at the same time.

“I’ll readily admit I enjoy this game, Errol. You do things to me I never could have imagined. And, yes, okay, I did spend the better part of the day thinking about this moment, but I need you to be more specific with your answer.”

“Answer to what?” Still hooded with the remains of lust, his eyes barely focused on her.

“You’re not doing anything to protect me. You’re not taking any precautions.”

“What precaution? Protect you from what?”

She gazed down at their joined pelvises, the sight causing her to become aroused again. “Pregnancy. Sexually transmit…”

“That again? I told you not to worry about that.”

“Easy for you to say. You’re not the one at risk.”

“Look, there’s no way you can get pregnant because… well, I already took care of that, besides it’s both of us at risk…I would not leave a woman not taken care of.”

Stunned, she looked at him. “But you’re so young.”

He rolled his eyes to the ceiling. “As for the other stuff; one, I’m careful; two, I’m tested and three, I’m not as slutty as the media sometimes makes me out to be.” He looked hurt for a while, “I do care about the women I’m with, Taryn. I may like it rough, but I always take care of my lovers.”

She took a moment to take in his words. “Okay,” she finally said. “What about my scholarship?”

“I told you earlier.” He cupped her cheek and brought a sober gaze to meet her eyes. “I wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize that. Besides, you wanted this arrangement, as much as I did. You said so yourself when I asked in the beginning.”