Instalove at Christmas Read online

  As I touch her hand I feel a shock from my fingertips to my cock. She’s beautiful in her little pink dress that hugs every curve she has—and I see her nipples press hard into the light fabric. I exhale slowly, urging patience with every cell in my body. She doesn’t know what I know—that we’re made for each other.

  “We’re certainly not staying here,” I say firmly. I’m not sure where I’m going to take her, but it sure as hell isn’t somewhere that another man is going to lay a hand on her. In fact, no other man is ever going to lay a hand on her but me, ever again.

  “Don’t you think that should be my decision?” she argues, as I start to lead her toward the door.

  I pause for a moment, gazing into her eyes. She stumbles slightly across the threshold, and I grab her by both arms to steady her. It’s raining and cold now; she shivers in her little dress as it molds to her body. She pulls back and puts her hands on her hips, staring up at me.

  “You’re a little used to getting your way, aren’t you? Well, what if I tell you that I—“

  The rain comes down harder and drips down her chest, dipping between her breasts. I cover the groan escaping my lips by pressing them against hers, and lightly push her under the awning against the wall. The electricity jolts through me like nothing I’ve ever felt before. My body knows her if nothing else; my cock strains against my jeans, pressing painfully into my zipper, and my hips are jammed into hers.

  I keep her warm with my body as I kiss her, holding her fast to the stone behind her, and it’s not long before I have to hold her up as well; her knees buckle as my tongue sweeps into her mouth, and I can feel her soft moan. She shudders against me, gasping, and I can’t help myself from pressing my thigh lightly between her legs. She probably doesn’t even realize how she’s rocking against me, driving me insane.

  Pulling back we both need a moment to catch our breath. Her eyes are glazed as she sways, and she slowly steadies herself, standing up. It takes a long moment for her eyes to clear, and she stares up at me accusingly. “What the fuck was that?” she hisses.

  “What?” I say calmly.

  She slaps me across the face.

  I grab her wrist gently, pinning her against the wall again. “Tell me that you didn’t feel what I felt, and I’ll apologize and give you a ride back to the dorm,” I tell her. “I swear.”

  Her defiance slowly fades, and a blush rises from her cheeks to her nose. She looks away, and I know I’ve got her hooked. I drag a finger gently down her flushed cheek and then squeeze her hand, pulling her out of the rain. “We need to get you warm and dry,” I say firmly. I pull off my sweater, holding it over her head, and we run to my car parked down the street.

  Opening the door for her, I watch her climb in as the rain plasters my hair down. I can see her bright red panties through her soaked dress, and I bite back a groan. After closing the door, I have to take a minute to adjust my growing erection in my jeans. I know I’m going to have bruises from the zipper before long, and it feels so fucking good.

  I get into the driver’s seat, and she looks a little dazed. She reaches out and puts her hand on my thigh just for the contact. I can tell she feels the jolt of electricity flowing through our touch. She shudders, stares up at me, and I have to resist the urge to claim her lips again.

  “You may want to move your hand, baby girl,” I say huskily. She’s mere inches from my cock. “It’s already hard enough to control myself around you.” God, she looks so young. Part of me hesitates, but the rest of me knows what my brain is taking a while to come around to—she’s mine. She will always be mine.

  Her fingers twitch against my skin, like she’s not sure what she wants to do—taunt me further or let me relax. “Where are we going?” she says finally.

  I raise a brow and gently take her hand, pulling it away from my lap. “To the dorm?” I suggest reluctantly.

  “Ah, hell,” she curses. I chuckle.

  “What?” I ask.

  “All of us are in the same dorm. I don’t want to run into soccer dude tonight.”

  I put the car into gear and pull smoothly out into traffic. “Then my place.” I pause, searching for the right words. “I won’t do anything you don’t ask for,” I say finally. “Fuck, I shouldn’t even be saying this. But I knew the moment I laid eyes upon you that you belong to me. And if it takes me a thousand years to prove it to you...”

  She cuts me off. “I felt it, too,” she admits softly. “Like I know you somehow. But…do you even know my name?”

  “Elizabeth. You’re a social works student from America. Your academic record—”

  “Right,” she replies sourly. “You’ve seen my transcript.” We approach the sea, and she’s plastered to the window staring at the waves pounding in the rain. “Oh, my God, it’s so beautiful! Oh, Ian...” Her hand is on my thigh again, and I know she can feel the heat through my wet slacks.

  I know my little cottage by the water isn’t impressive, but the view sure as hell is. I toss my sweater back to her again and get out of the car and run up to unlock it before jogging back to her. She’s shivering, and I make the decision to pick her up and carry her in my arms.

  “Ian—wait, I’m too big for you to carry!”

  I snort and pull her closer against my chest. “In case you didn’t notice, baby girl, I’ve got you just fine,” I drawl. “You’re perfect.”

  She looks so cold. I can’t stand it. I immediately shut the door behind us and bring her to my bathroom. It has the second-best view—the tub is next to a wide, tall window that looks out on the ocean, with no curtains to hide the way. I set her down on the lip of the bath, drawing the water, and look at her sternly.

  “What?” she asks, her poor teeth chattering.

  “Are you going to argue with me about this?”

  “About what?”

  I take the sweater she’d been holding and reach behind her, beginning to unbutton her dress. Her jaw drops in shock; I don’t think she expected me to be so forward. I slide the little bell sleeves off her shoulders, and push the fabric to her waist. I discover she’s not wearing a bra.

  She’s also got cute little rings through her nipples. Ah, hell. Any last pretense of self-control has thoroughly gone out the keyhole. I grasp her hips firmly and stare up into her eyes. My hands shake, and I know she feels it.

  Her eyes are half-closed as I breathe softly against her breasts, trying to stop myself from burying my head between them. I dig my nails into her hips lightly and she moans, rocking just a little bit. “I want you,” I whisper roughly.

  “You’re my professor,” she says lamely, her eyes half-closed. Her hips are thrust into my nails, and her skin is hot even through the wet cloth. “We shouldn’t...”

  I lean forward, as close as I can without actually touching her, and blow gently on her nipple. She shudders hard, arching her back, and I have to back away a little to keep from making contact. She’s still rocking back and forth against the rim of my tub, trembling, and she gazes down at me with glazed eyes.

  “Then we won’t,” I say softly. Waiting.

  She whimpers in frustration, and I can see how painfully hard her nipples are. I know it must hurt...and I know that my tongue would make them feel so much better. She squirms in her dress, and grabs the thin fabric beneath my hands, yanking it down to her feet. Fuck. All she’s wearing are the red panties.

  “Elizabeth, I don’t have the self-control for this,” I groan, clutching her hips hard enough to leave marks. Her panties are soaked through, and I can smell that it’s her, not the rain. Everything in me screams to take her, to claim her.

  “Please,” she gasps and presses forward. She’s too fast—I don’t back up quickly enough before her nipple is in my mouth and I moan with her, lashing her with my tongue. I can’t help myself as I taste the salty sweat of her skin, the rainwater, the metallic taste of steel as I suck her nipple into my mouth.

  “Oh, God, Ian, yes,” she moans, throwing her head back. I’m almost ashamed of
myself that I can’t control myself around her; every breath, every movement only makes me want her more. I pull back roughly, leaving tiny scrapes from my teeth around her nipples, and she’s shuddering hard, tremors running down her spine.

  “Tell me what you want,” I demand. I don’t recognize my voice—it’s rough, dark and deep. I have never wanted anything the way I want her. And I will have her—tonight.

  Chapter Three

  Elizabeth

  Oh, my God. I’ve never felt like this before. The piercings were on a whim, a dare from a girlfriend back home, and nobody’s ever tasted them the way Ian has. It feels amazing, and I begin to wonder what it would feel like if I had other piercings, too.

  I grab Ian’s shirt and he blocks me, staring down at me with dark eyes. “Tell me,” he repeats. “I won’t let you do this until you tell me.”

  I’m breathing hard, not even a little embarrassed that I’m spread-eagled in front of him in nothing but soaking wet red panties. I don’t think I’ve ever wanted someone as much as I want him. “I want you,” I whisper, and I can’t stop moving, rocking my hips against the cool tile of the rim of the tub, seeking some kind of relief.

  His fingers relax against my hips and I take that as my cue to rip his shirt off of him. He’s forced to let go of my hips for a moment as I push it back, dropping it to the floor, and I lick my lips. He has a trinity symbol between his hips, hidden as it points directly at his cock beneath his slacks. Dear God.

  Ian’s fingers are right back on me, pulling my thighs apart. He takes the opportunity to suck at the juices off my panties, right over my clit, and I moan at the suction, pressing into his lips. “Please,” I cry, scrambling to hold onto him—but he’s moving again, and I feel the briefest feeling of pressure as he rips the panties at the thigh, tearing them in pieces, and they fall to the floor.

  That is so fucking hot, I think, dazed. I’ve never had a man want me that badly in my life. He doesn’t give me the chance to think before his mouth is on me, suckling like he’s drowning, and his fingers bury themselves deep in my slit, pumping eagerly. There’s no break, no moment to breathe before I’m screaming, throwing my head back and coming for him, and I can feel my juices running down my thighs, down his cheeks.

  “Fuck, baby girl,” he groans, and grabs me by the hips again before I have the chance to recover. “You’re never gonna get a bath at this rate.”

  He bends me over the tub and unbuttons his slacks with his free hand. I can feel how thick his cock is as he presses against me, rubbing slowly along my opening, back and forth. I’m still so sensitive and I’m rocked with aftershocks, shuddering against him. “You’re so wet,” he says.

  “For you,” I manage, and he growls a low, primal sound as he shoves his cock into me all at once. I scream, holding onto the rim of the tub and pressing my ass into him. He grabs my leg and helps me to balance against the tub so he can get a better angle and he’s pounding inside me, over and over again until I feel the come pouring out of me, my orgasm uncontrollable, everything pulsing and squeezing him desperately.

  He has to hold me up as he fucks me, grabbing my hip and my breast, his fingers twisting my piercing until he howls, leaning down and biting at my neck, marking me as his as he comes inside me. I can feel him press into my cervix, coming hard. He’s so deep I can’t feel our juices sliding down my thighs anymore. I collapse onto the tub as he shudders, and we slide off of the tub together, onto the cold stone floor.

  He manages to fall so that I’m on top of him, my back to his chest, with him still inside of me. I’m still seeing stars, dazed, forgetting how to breathe and he’s still filling me completely, balls-deep inside of me as we relax. I realized we forgot all about the damn bath. This was much better than sitting in a pool of warm water by myself.

  “So...about being your professor,” he pants, and wraps his strong arms around me, one around my waist, the other around my breasts. His hand plays with my nipple ring idly, making me jerk around his cock.

  “Mmm?” is all I can manage. I don’t particularly care if he’s my professor or not. I’m pretty damn happy where I am.

  “Whatever this is is a lot better than being your professor,” he murmurs. He leans up slightly, kissing the bite mark against my neck.

  I nod slowly, letting my eyes drift closed. We can worry about what to do with my classes tomorrow, I think. For now, I’m safe and satiated, warm and—I hesitate to say it—cared for? There’s something between us that I can’t—don’t want to deny.

  I don’t know how it’s possible, but we fall asleep together, with his arms around me and his cock deep inside of me. I’ve never slept better.

  Ian

  The sun is coming in at a strange angle, and I realize that I’ve fallen asleep on the floor of the bathroom. The sunlight is weak, as it always is in Ireland, but the feelings that flood me aren’t.

  Elizabeth stretches out like a cat when she sleeps. At some point during the night she’d slid off of me, and she was now laying on her stomach, breasts pressed into my bathmat, with her round, pert ass in the air. I don’t stop myself from gently pulling her into my arms, cradling her as she sleeps, and depositing her gently on my low bed.

  I run my fingers through my hair, closing my eyes. I have no regrets about last night—I did the best I could to make sure she wanted what I had to give her, and she didn’t seem to have any complaints. My cock stirred at the sight of her and I frowned, walking into my closet instead of toward the bed, trying to pick out my clothes for the classes of the day.

  Ah, hell. The best thing I can do for her is call a cab, I realize. Otherwise, her classmates are going to pitch a fit and give her hell for coming to classes with me. It’s bad enough that she left the pub with me last night—though I think the girls she had been sitting with were too silly and drunk to do more than ogle me at the time.

  “Ian?” she murmurs softly, and her small hand reaches out for me. My heart lurches, and I realize that she’s got more of a hold on me than I realized. There’s nothing more that I want than to crawl into bed after her and hold her for the rest of the day. It’s so damn tempting; I know there’s an associate professor that could handle classes for today…but I can’t do that to her. Not only is she here for a reason, but rumors would fly.

  “I’m here, baby girl,” I reply, and sit on the edge of the bed, clothes over my arm. “How did you sleep?”

  She smiles, and it brightens the world. I exhale slowly, turning so that she doesn’t see the look on my face. As much as she’s mine, I’m hers, I realize. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

  “I feel amazing,” she confesses shyly, and I laugh, reaching my free hand over to brush a stray hair out of her face. “But… what now?”

  I lean down and kiss her forehead gently. “Now, we go to school,” I say softly. “I’m going to call you a cab.”

  She stiffens under my touch, and I frown, wondering if she’d hurt herself somehow in getting up. “All right,” she says quietly, and she gets out of bed slowly, heading toward the bathroom to hunt for her clothes. Shit, I think. She was wearing the same clothes yesterday for class.

  “I’m going to leave you some clothes that might fit you, all right?” I call. “I’ve got a few T-shirts and jeans that might work.”

  She doesn’t say anything. I assume she’s using the facilities. I sigh, glancing at the clock. “I’m going to be late, baby girl,” I say through the door. “I’ll make sure there’s a cab for you when you’re ready.”

  “Okay,” she replies. I shrug. Women are mysteries, I know. I make sure to leave a key on the table by the door before I leave.

  ◆◆◆

  When she finally gets to class, I’m in the middle of a lesson. Her face is red and I resist the urge to go to her; she looks almost like she’d been crying. I feel anger rising in my body; no one is going to hurt her. What the hell had happened after I’d left? I’d seen her a mere hour ago!

  She leaves before I can get to her after
class, and I don’t see her for the rest of the day. I realize I don’t even have her phone number to text her. All I can do is finish my classes and go to the pub, hoping that she’s there. At the least I can watch her and make sure that she’s okay, even if she doesn’t want to talk to me.

  Why doesn’t she want to talk to me?

  Chapter Four

  Elizabeth

  He called me a fucking cab. Like the one-night stand that I was. For some reason I thought we’d had a connection—a real connection. I don’t know how I could have mistaken chemistry for the beginnings of something more. He’d gotten what he wanted, hadn’t he? I’m so pissed that I could be that naive.

  I avoid him for the rest of the day, and I find myself a routine: I go to class five minutes late so that he’s in the middle of lecture when I slip into the back of the room, and I’m the first one out when he’s done speaking. I don’t linger in the halls between classes, and I don’t stay after to talk with the professors. I’m avoiding the pub where we’d met, and I stick to my dorm room at night.

  It’s about two-and-a-half weeks into my self-imposed exile before Kathy, one of the girls that shares my suite, corners me. “You only went out with us the once,” she complains. “What happened? The last we saw you you were hanging out with Professor Byrne! And you never told us what happened!”

  I hesitate, glancing away. “We didn’t really hang out,” I lie. “He just brought me to the dorms and I was in bed before you guys got home.”

  “Well, you’re going out with us tonight,” she says firmly, grabbing me by the shoulders and pushing me into my room. She sifts through my closet and picks out a dress I haven’t worn yet—my Christmas dress. Oh, shit, I forgot that Christmas is coming up!

  “We’re having an early Christmas party at the pub,” she explains. “Since a lot of the professors are going home for Christmas day. They’ve all claimed that they’re buying a round of drinks for the whole class. Free shots!” She shoves the dress into my hands and I sigh.