Seducing Professor Coyle (14 page)

Peter was staring at him, something like astonishment in his expression.

“What?”

“So when you were going on about doing everything yourself, relying on your own money, that was all true.”

Ben smiled. “I take it you’re used to students bullshitting you.”

Peter returned his smile. “You are pretty remarkable, Benjamin. Especially for your age. I’m sure you’ll be very successful.”

“Oh, man. You’re talking like a teacher again.”

Peter laughed. “I
am
a teacher. In a couple weeks you’ll no longer be a student. But I’ll still be a teacher.” He looked pointedly into Ben’s eyes.

Ben frowned. “But you won’t be
my
teacher.”

Peter picked up his wine. “Do you want to know what I thought about you, when you first came into my office?”

Wincing, Ben said, “I’m not sure. After I told you what a dick I thought you were.”

“Yes.” Peter smirked. “But I won’t count that against you.”

“Okay,” he said. “What did you think of me?”

“Well,” he said, resting his elbows on his knees. “Aside from finding you aggressive, somewhat rude, and of course completely beautiful, I thought you seemed a bit hardened. Like life had made you grow up fast. I guess now I know why, given your past. But it was a strange contrast. You look so...polished on the outside. But your eyes tell a different story.”

“So you think I’m messed up or something,” Ben said. “On the inside.”

“I think you’ve had to be strong for a long time and that you have great discipline. But I’d guess you’ve not made much time for yourself, to figure out what you want, on a personal level.”

Ben went very still, not liking where this was heading.

“That’s why this thing with me...” Peter shook his head. “I can’t say I’m confident you know what you’re doing. And I don’t want to be one of your regrets. Something you look back on and say, what the hell was I thinking? And more importantly, what the hell was that professor thinking?”

“Look,” Ben said, raising his palms. “I understand how you feel, I do. I’ve looked at it from your perspective, but you’re not really looking at it from mine, because you think I’m this basket case kid who knows nothing about life.”

“That’s not what I said.”

“Close enough. Dr. Coyle...Peter, I’m not gonna graduate, work a couple years then suddenly be normal, and look back with contempt at my crazy youth. My life has never been what you’d call normal, but I’m okay with that. I’ve done what I thought was best for me, and it’s worked out. I’ve sacrificed some fun, personal relationships, whatever, but I kept moving forward because I
planned
everything. I’ve learned I can plan my schedules, my school work, even my career, and it’ll bring me what I want. But I can’t control what happens inside me. And I can’t plan how it will turn out. But I know what I want. I want you, and it’s not some careless, youthful whim.”

Peter was silent for a time, looking at the floor somewhat forlornly. “I apologize if I patronized you. I accept that you know what you want. But there are two people to consider here, Benjamin. I’m not sure I’m willing to risk whatever fallout this might bring to
my
life.”

Ben sighed, his head falling forward. “Figures.”

Peter looked up. “Does it?”

Ben chuckled. “Yeah. Here I spend my whole life avoiding risks because something bad happened to me in the past. Now that I finally want to take a chance on something with no certain outcome, it’s thwarted by someone
else
who’s afraid to take the risk.”

Peter studied him, chin resting on his palm, a frown pinching his brows. He didn’t speak.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

He smiled slightly. “How am I looking at you?”

“Like you’re confused. Am I not making sense? Am I babbling?”

“No.” He took a sip of wine then set it down. “You’re making sense. In fact what you said sounds familiar. I’ve avoided risks because of something bad from my past. But
this
, Benjamin.” He gestured to Ben. “You a student, me your teacher. This is pretty much the mother of all risks.”

“No one has to know,” Ben said. “I don’t care if you keep me a secret, I just want to see you sometimes. In private, like this. Is that so terrible? I get that it’s weird, it’s weird for me too. I’ve never...” He hesitated, worried he’d go too far and scare the man off. More so than he already had.

“You’ve never what?” Peter asked. “Slept with an older man?”

Ben shook his head. “I’ve never felt this way before. About anyone.”

Peter stared at him for a long time, and Ben grew nervous under the intensity of his gaze. Those dark blue eyes, studying him, like a dozen thoughts churned in unison. Ben tried to guess at what was going through Peter’s mind. Desire? Indecision? Pity?

Finally Peter pursed his lips, sighing. “Well, Benjamin, considering the guilt, shame, and self-loathing haunting me lately, I can fairly say I’ve never felt quite like this either.”

Ben huffed. “Aren’t you the sweet talker. You make me sound like a communicable disease.”

Peter gave him a pointed grin, then stood. He walked across the floor to a shiny black fireplace. When he turned a knob, flames licked up over the wood. “Gas fireplace,” he said with his back to Ben. “I love a fire but I’m lazy and inept when it comes to making them. This is my favorite thing about this house.”

He turned from the fireplace and moved to the standing lamp, dimming it down to nearly nothing. The room became soft, dark, and flickering with amber light. Peter kicked his shoes off, then moved back to the fireplace, sitting in front of it on the cushy looking rug. “Come on and sit over here,” he said. He glanced at Ben. “I want to see you in the firelight.”

Ben’s pulse quickened. He stood, approaching slowly. Peter sat on the rug, legs stretched out in front of him, leaned back on his palms, watching the flames. He’d been almost certain the professor was about to send him on his way. This was a hopeful change in direction. He was glad Peter wasn’t watching him, because he was sure his expression would betray his nervousness, along with his arousal. Perhaps the dim lighting would spare him somewhat. He’d been as honest as he could be with this man tonight. But it still went against his nature being so vulnerable, his want an open wound for Peter to see.

He sat opposite Peter, mirroring his position, legs out, arms propped behind him. “This is really nice. You have a nice place.”

Peter smiled, but still didn’t look at him. “It’ll be too warm to light it soon. I want to take advantage before summer hits.” Finally his head turned, his eyes dark and glimmering as they fell on Ben. “Take your shirt off.”

Ben stared back at him. Then pulled his shirt up over his head, setting it aside on the floor. His breath quickened as Peter’s gaze trailed over him.

Ben waited for him to speak. Waited for him to move. But Peter simply looked at him, and somehow that was more arousing than anything. The quiet of the room, the crackling flames. Peter’s unyielding gaze. It was almost too much. Ben nearly crawled over to him, but held his place, allowing himself to enjoy the soft tension, the pregnant anticipation, letting it pour through him, heating his body, his soul.

“You are far too amazing to want me,” Peter said, shaking his head.

Ben’s heart beat faster. “But I do.” His words were barely above a whisper, scarcely able to speak through the tightening of his throat. If Peter didn’t touch him soon, he feared he’d explode.

Pulling his own tee shirt over his head, Peter tossed it aside, revealing that perfect, chiseled torso Ben had only seen once, at Thorn’s party. The firelight did wonderful things to the contours of his body, and he was more alluring than he’d been even wet and writhing in that swimming pool. “Unzip your jeans,” Peter said, using that authoritative tone that made Ben squirm. “But don’t take them off.”

Peter’s voice was commanding, if not slightly softer than during their tryst in his office. Ben obeyed, unzipping his jeans. He leaned back again, watching Peter, waiting. As much as he wanted to dive on the man, he liked this, getting instructions, letting Peter control the pace. That unique, desperate lust he’d discovered since meeting him whirled in his belly, pouring gasoline on his inner flame.

Peter shifted, then approached him slowly, crawling over the rug, eyes locked onto Ben’s. Ben took in a breath. His nipples hardened as Peter ran fingers over his chest, down his stomach. “Lie back, Benjamin.”

Ben’s cock seemed to swell to twice its size in an instant.
How does he do that?
He marveled at the effect of simply hearing Peter say his name. Ben stretched out on the rug, a shuddering sigh escaping his lips. He looked up at the ceiling beams, waiting, trying not to breathe too loud. His pulse thudded in his ears, cock straining.

His stomach quivered when he felt Peter’s tongue on his ribs, and he tilted his eyes to watch. Peter leaned over him, his strong arms astride Ben’s torso as he made his way up his body, tongue trailing a line. When he reached his chest he sucked hard on Ben’s nipple, making him groan. Ben’s fingers groped at the rug, his hips lifting. Peter’s warm mouth moved to his other nipple, using teeth, sending a current of pleasure straight to Ben’s groin. “Peter,” he said, his voice pleading. “I—”

Clamping his mouth down on Ben’s, Peter stopped his words. His hands gripped Ben’s hair as he drove his tongue in, and Ben melted into it, opening for him. His body swirled with sensation, Peter’s kiss getting rougher, a scrape of teeth on his lips. Then Peter’s body pressed fully down onto Ben, covering him, the silken glide of bare, muscled flesh against his. His own hands found Peter’s hair, running fingers through its silky thickness, pulling his face tighter.

Peter’s hands left Ben’s hair and grasped his wrists, pinning them back over his head as he broke the kiss. Ben looked up at him, and the desire in Peter’s eyes made him dizzy with arousal. He was perfect in the firelight, blue eyes reflective, disheveled hair framing his handsome face. “Benjamin,” he whispered, and Ben sucked in a breath. “I want to taste your cock.”

Ben groaned, fingers gripping Peter’s. “God, Peter. Yes.”

Peter untangled his fingers, released Ben’s arms and slid down. Ben’s body jerked as his jeans were tugged roughly down, a gasp escaping him. Before he could recover, Peter’s mouth was on him, drawing him in. Unable to maintain control any longer, Ben let out a loud moan, his head thrown back on the floor. Peter’s mouth was hot and wet, gliding expertly along his length, tongue swirling around him.

Peter paused a moment, his own breath labored, a soft moan escaping. It thrilled Ben to hear Peter’s arousal, to know his need. “I could eat you alive,” he growled, and sucked Ben in hard, making his hips buck. Peter’s mouth drew him deeper so the head of his cock crested the wall of his throat, and held him there. When Ben squirmed with pleasure, Peter held his hips to the floor, forcing him to endure it.

Finally pulling back, Peter released his swollen erection, gliding his mouth over the head as he popped it out. He climbed up and leaned over Ben again, kissing him savagely. Ben breathed into the kiss, panting, overcome with sensation. Pushing himself up on his arms, Peter broke the kiss. “I need you to close your eyes,” he said, his voice strained and breathy.

Ben shook his head. “No, I want to see you. You look so turned on and I fucking love it, Peter, please.”

Peter let out a soft chuckle. “You should see yourself. That’s why I need you to close your eyes. I’m going to fuck you now, and if you look at me, I’ll come too quickly.”

Ben swallowed hard. “Well, when you put it that way.”

Peter’s hand glided over Ben’s eyes, and he closed them. The rug shifted as he felt him get up, then heard the zipper of his jeans, the sound of fabric as he removed them. He desperately wanted to open his eyes, but the anticipation was exciting, so he kept them closed. He heard more movement, a quick tearing, and he knew it was a condom. He gasped, squirming, the rug soft and plush beneath his bare buttocks.

His body pulled slightly as Peter jerked the jeans off that hung around Ben’s ankles. Then his hands were on Ben’s knees. He lifted them slowly, edging them toward his chest. Then his arms looped under Ben’s thighs, and he pressed his body down onto him, lifting his ass off the floor. “Is this all right?” he whispered. “With your legs like this?”

Ben nodded, his eyes fluttering open. “I’m pretty flexible,” he said, enjoying the air on his exposed privates, the abandon of being pinned down like this.

“Close them,” Peter said sharply.

Ben closed his eyes, grinning. “Sorry. I wanted to see you.”

“You can feel me instead,” he said, and pushed the head of his cock into Ben’s ass.

Ben gasped as the thick dome slid in, breaching his entrance. Peter paused, his breath just over Ben’s lips. “Are you ready for me?”

Ben panted, nodding. “Fuck me.”

Peter’s thick shaft penetrated further, filling him. He must have lubed himself up because he was extra slippery. The position, holding Ben’s legs and ass off the floor allowed him to go deeper. “Are you sure,” Peter asked, but his voice had turned to a growl.

“Don’t tease me,” Ben hissed. “Fuck me.”

With a quick jerk Peter pushed his legs higher, pinning Ben’s own thighs against his chest, and started fucking him fast and hard.

Ben gasped, then groaned. Peter’s cock invaded him, stretched him, the friction of his urgent thrusts bringing scalding tendrils of pleasure over his prostate. His cock felt about to explode, so he tried to calm his body, to fight it.

Peter pounded against him, hands gripping his thighs hard enough to leave bruises. It was almost too much, this hard body dominating him, taking him roughly. Peter’s deep breaths and soft moans made Ben’s ass tighten, contracting around him.

“Benjamin,” he whispered.

Ben could only manage a moan in response, the sound of his name on Peter’s lips sending him spiraling, splintering with pleasure.

“Benjamin,” he said again, then drove himself harder, his cock penetrating deep, sending a shock through Ben. “It feels like you’re already close.”