“Justin!” I exclaim with a giggle as he drags me onto the elevator. I look around cautiously but the only thing I see is Tiny’s disapproving gaze before he turns and makes his way back into the kitchens.

Justin is on me the second the doors close, his mouth devouring mine and I’m dazed instantly, my arms wrapping around his shoulders as he presses me into the wall of the elevator. He chuckles as he kisses me, his lips sliding wetly over mine, his hands everywhere. He’s excited. He has another surprise for me and I can’t help but feel excited right along with him.

After his strong declaration during our study session several weeks ago I can’t help but see him differently. The way he stands tall to the guys’ criticism now. The way he conducts himself in interviews. Even in the simple way he grabs me and kisses the shit out of me. So undeterred and unafraid. He loves me. He trusts that I love him. Even though I refuse to admit it.

He wasn’t lying when he said he wouldn’t stop saying it. Whether it was whispered softly against my skin after he’d fucked me so good I couldn’t see straight or hollered absently after me as I leave the room, he says it… and often. He’s content with whatever I give him in return, be it a withered look or a small, guilty smile because no matter what it is, he always receives a response. Sometimes it’s a touch, sometimes it’s a cringe but he always gets me. I can’t just not acknowledge it. I don’t have that in me. I used to. But I don’t any more.

“Justin, where are we going?” I giggle as he nibbles at the crook of my neck.

He pulls back slightly, grinning like it’s Christmas morning as he presses the P button on the floor panel and I look at him confused. Why is he taking me to the penthouse floor? But I don’t have much time to think on it because his lips are on mine again, his hands settling on my hips and I love it when he kisses me like this. Slow and steady like he’s got his entire life to do it, tongue dipping in to taste me lazily. My fingers grab handfuls of his shirt tugging him close to me as he tilts his head and nips at my bottom lip, pulling back every time I try to capture his lips again, a smug smile tugging at his lips.

The elevator doors open and he’s away from me in a flash, my body shivering from the loss of his warmth. He’s walking off into the small hallway, eyeing the two doors opposite each other. He looks to one and then the other before stepping to the left in front of the door marked P1. He looks back at me and grins.

“Justin, wha-”

“Gimme your key,” he says, holding his hand out to me and I eye him suspiciously.

“My key?” I reach into my pocket and pull out the small plastic card the front desk had given me moments before. “But I just-”

He shushes me as he snatches the card from me and shoves it in the lock. Much to my surprise the light turns green and he’s pushing the door open, his face threatening to split from the smile on his face as he holds the door open for me and gestures me inside.

My mouth is hanging open slightly as I step into the lavish suite. I look around at the living area, furnished with overstuffed couches and glass tables, a dining area by the windows which over look – I gasp – the lake which is winking back at me in the afternoon sun. French doors open into the bedroom, the king size bed large and inviting and I think about all the things we could do in that bed.

I jump slightly as I feel his arms slip around my waist, hugging me back against his chest and I let my eyes slide closed, my head lolling to the side as he nuzzles his nose against my pulse point. His lips kiss me softly and my hands go to his forearms, wanting to hold him and not wanting to move all at the same time. I’m drowning in him right now and I don’t even try to stop myself. It’s too hard. I just let him hold me, let him love me.

“You like it?” he asks, kissing my earlobe and I smile.

“Yes,” I grin and he gives me a squeeze before releasing me and I walk to the windows, surveying the view. “Justin, you didn’t have to do this. It’s too much. It’s great but it’s too much.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he says as he steps up next to me, glancing at me and smiling softly before surveying the view.

“Yeah, but-”

“We got a payday,” he says, his eyes cutting to me. “Don’t worry about it.”

I silence at this, turning it over and over in my mind. I don’t know a lot about the financial aspects of what Justin does. I know he and the group are well taken care of, but they aren’t rolling in it like one would assume they would be. He doesn’t like to talk about money, especially in regards to his career. I lean in and peck him on the cheek which he blushes at. We both giggle. I can’t get enough of him.

“What exactly did you have planned for me tonight, sir,” I say, tilting my head to the side as I turn to him and he smirks, arms reaching to embrace me.

“Oh, you know,” he drawls, his fingers threading at my lower back and he bites his lip in that way that drives me crazy, “Little dinner, little dancing.”

I shiver. “No dessert?” I ask coyly and his eyes darken, a seductive grin pulling at his lips. My heart skips a beat. When did he learn to smile like that?

“I’m sure we’ll think of something,” he replies his voice deep and I can feel it vibrate against my chest. I need to kiss him, but he pulls back from me suddenly. “Oh, I almost forgot!”

He pulls away from me and shuffles into the bedroom returning a moment later with a pink box, handing it to me sheepishly. I regard him suspiciously, setting the box on the table. I pull the lid off and unfold the delicate tissue. My eyes widen slightly as I reach in to touch the sheer, light blue fabric before pulling it out and watching it unfold. It’s gauzy and feminine and unlike anything else I have ever owned or worn before, the thin straps, the low neckline, the lacing up the back. A matching pair of panties, lacy and low cut, lay underneath it and I look over at him, finding him grinning like a fool.

“You want me to wear this?” I ask him, giggling a little and he nods enthusiastically.

“Yeah,” he says, licking his lips and I sigh, shaking my head at him, laughing a little as I set it back into the box. “You don’t like it?” he asks, his brows knitting in concern.

“No! No, I do like it,” I say, reaching out to touch his arm and he looks down, his fingers reaching to play with the hem that is hanging out of the box and I can’t help but smile. “You want me to put it on now, don’t you?”

He shuffles his feet and glances up at me from under long lashes before quietly saying, “Yeah.”

And I can’t help but giggle at him. He’s too cute sometimes. I love him when he’s like this…when he’s… wait… did I just…? I take a step back, swallowing hard. I love him. The words echo in my brain and much to my surprise the walls don’t cave in, the sky doesn’t explode, the police don’t bust down the door. Nothing happens. It’s just he and I, in this beautiful room that he probably spent two thirds of his paycheck getting for us and holding a nighty that probably took up the last third and he’s asking me to put it on and I love him. I love him.

“Is everything okay?” he asks and I look up at him, his blue eyes showing concern and I smile at him, shaking my head.

“Everything is fine,” I say brightly, grabbing the box and walking toward the bedroom. “I’m just gonna slip this on.”

“Yes!” he whispers softly, shimmying his shoulders in victory and I punch him in the arm as I pass. He grins at me, rubbing his bicep. “I’m gonna order food, okay? I’m starving.”

I pause. “You want me to eat dinner in this?” I ask chuckling at him and watching him tuck the phone under his ear as he dials.

“Yeah,” he pauses, looking up at me. “Is that weird?”

“A little,” I say, giving him a smile that says I don’t really mind, because I don’t. Because I love him.

I close the French doors to the bedroom and peel off my clothes, tossing them next to my suitcase which I find tucked into a corner of the room. I briefly wonder how he’s done all this. But I guess it doesn’t matter really. I pull on the underwear, adjusting them on my hips so that he gets a little peek of my tattoo that he loves so much and I shake my head at the thought of me actually having a tattoo. I’ve changed so much since coming on this tour. I’m less inhibited and more adventurous. I’m having fun again instead of having my nose always stuck in a book. I guess Justin brings out the kid in me, which is hilarious and horrifying all at the same time.

I pull the babydoll nighty over my head, careful not to untie the lacing in the back. I struggle a little but eventually get it on. I adjust it over my body, listening to him order dinner, his voice a muffled hum behind the doors. I step into the lavish bathroom and am once again awestruck, taking in the large whirlpool tub and then the cavernous shower with six shower heads, three on each side. I catch a glimpse of my reflection and gasp at the sight of my body in such revealing clothes. The fabric hugs my curves in a luscious way, the sheerness showing a hint of my panties underneath and becoming more solid as it goes up to my chest, my breasts looking full and round under the stretchy fabric. I can scarcely believe that it is me looking through the mirror.

“Dinner will be here in a few minutes,” Justin calls, his voice muffled to almost incoherence by the two rooms between us. “Did you put it on?”

His voice is uncertain and its jumps in the middle like it does when he’s really excited. I grin, and the smile that lights up my face is brilliant. I’ve never seen myself like this. I’ve never seen myself this…happy. I bite my lip, a blush warming my cheeks. I love him.

I shake my head at myself and stride back into the bedroom, tugging a little on the hem of the nighty before opening the doors, holding onto the edges and jutting a hip out. Justin is digging through the candy jar on the table by the couch, reaching into the recesses for a caramel filled bon bon. He looks up and his mouth falls open, the top of the jar tumbling from his fingers and bouncing onto the lush carpet, thankfully not breaking.

“Shit,” he mutters, bending over to pick it up, his ears reddening as he holds the top of the jar dumbly in his hands, just staring at me from across the room.

“See something you like?” I question, swaying a little and giggling at my coyness. This isn’t me, but I like playing the sexy vixen with him. He’s a good audience.

He chuckles dumbly, eyes licking up and down my body as he nods. “Yeah… I knew you’d look good in that.”

He sets the lid of the candy jar down and steps up to me, hands smoothing around my waist, his eyes glued to my body, leaving enough space between us to not impede his view. I grin watching his face as he licks his lips, just staring. He makes me feel so beautiful. I wonder if he even knows. No one has ever made me feel more like a woman than him. The way he stares at me, as if it’s the first time he’s seeing me, every time. It’s overwhelming and amazing and I love him for it. I love him.

I bring my hands up to cup his face, his skin soft against my palms and his eyes finally meet mine. He chews his bottom lip sheepishly and I nuzzle my nose against his gently before kissing him sweetly, my hands sliding back to scoop up into his hair, his curls trapping my fingers against his scalp. His palms flatten against my lower back, pulling me flush against him and I moan into his mouth when his hands slide down to grip my ass.

He’s walking me backwards, his legs tangling in mine and we stumble, falling against the end of the bed, sinking into the plush comforter. We laugh together, he struggling to toe off his sneakers before sliding one of his knees between my legs. He braces himself on locked arms, staring down at me for a moment before swooping down and kissing me hard. I lose myself in it, my hands finding their way under his shirt, smoothing up the soft, warm, skin of his back.

He kisses me like this for what seems like days, his lips sliding over mine, his tongue slipping in to taste me over and over. My hip is pressing into his crotch and he presses back hard, pushing himself against me, his thigh snugly between my legs and it feels good and it teases and I love him.

There’s a knock at the door and he groans, giving a small push with his hips, burying his face in my neck and sighing before pulling himself away from me. I start to follow but he holds up a hand to me and smiles, his eyes looking me up and down and I remember I’m in my underwear. I giggle a little, bouncing on the end of the bed as he walks from my view, going to answer the door. I hear male voices in the other room and my eyes widen as slowly a food cart with covered trays comes into view being pushed by a man in a chef’s uniform.

“No, really, I can do it,” Justin’s protesting following him, looking perturbed.

“It’s part of the service, sir,” the waiter says mildly and busies himself with getting the cart situated next to the table.

I’m frozen in place, my brain battling between running to the bathroom, which could potentially cause the waiter to glance up and see me, or from sitting here quietly, hoping to remain unnoticed. Justin glares moodily at him as the waiter sets the table and as he does so he catches a glimpse of me through the doorway. The waiter’s eyes widen slightly and I look away, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear and biting my lip nervously. I shouldn’t be seen here like this with Justin. But then again who’s the waiter going to tell.

Everyone, Skylar. I’m sure the press would love to know America’s golden boy is fucking his tutor.

“I’ll take it from here,” Justin spats, holding a few bills out to the waiter who peels his eyes from me and takes the money in a daze.

He moves to pull back but Justin grabs his wrist, pulling him in closer and talking lowly into the man’s ear so that only he can hear. The man’s eyes widen and I see more money exchange hands. The man nods at Justin, glancing at me one last time before making his way out. I guess that’s that.

Justin glares after him and I giggle slightly at his possessiveness, which draws his attention. A slow grin pulls at his lips and he asks: “What are you laughin’ at?”

“Nothin,” I say, standing up and stretching a little, exposing my panties to him and he licks his lips in appreciation. “What’s for dinner?” I ask, walking to the table, leaning against him to peer over the cart.

“Steak for me,” he grins, placing one hand on my hip and uncovering his plate, “And smoked salmon for the lady,” he mumbles against my neck as he uncovers my plate at I can’t help but grin at him. He’s too cute sometimes.

“No chicken fingers tonight?” I ask, invoking the little joke he and I have about his choice of entrée at practically every restaurant we go to. He narrows his eyes playfully at me, ignoring my jibe and walking around the table, pulling my chair out for me.

I bite my lip to suppress my grin as I sit and he pushes the chair underneath me, always the perfect gentleman. He places his hands on my shoulders, his palms warm and soft against my bare skin and he leans down to drop a kiss just next to my ear before rounding the table and sitting across from me.

We tuck into our food, talking easily and without awkwardness. I’m comfortable with him. He knows me and I know him and I feel warm and happy. He makes me happy. I love him.

He tells me about Memphis, his hometown and two stops away, one of the last dates of the tour. He wants to show me around. He wants to introduce me to his grandparents. He wants me to meet his best friend. He has all these grand plans and in the back of my mind I know that we can’t really do any of these things. But he’s gone to so much trouble tonight. So maybe…maybe just for now…just here in this hotel room, our sanctuary, I can pretend with him. I can believe that I can sit next to him at the General Store and let him buy me a cheeseburger, which he swears are the best in the world. I can believe that I can go fishing with him and his grandfather. I can believe that we can be normal. Just for now. Just in this moment, I let myself believe it.

My toe nudges his underneath the table and he smirks at me, his socked foot caressing my ankle slowly and I lick my lips at him, watching his eyes darken slightly. I bite my lip as my toes climb up his denim clad calf, rubbing up to his thigh and pressing gently between his legs. His eyelids flutter, mouth falling open slightly and I can feel him hardening already. I am just about to suggest we take this to the bedroom when there’s a short knock at the door. Justin groans lightly, pulling himself from his chair and trudging to the door.

“Who’s that?” I ask slightly nervous and he doesn’t respond, swinging the door open.

Another man in a chef’s uniform tries to push the cart in but Justin doesn’t let him pass, just hands him his money and bids him to move on, which he does. Justin sighs as he pushes the cart towards the table. I crane my neck, trying to see inside the large metal tub sitting on the cart. I stand as he approaches the table and gasp as I see bowls of ice cream buried in the ice, chocolate, strawberry, vanilla, along with fresh strawberries and bananas, whipped crème, chocolate syrup, and sprinkles.

“Ice cream bar,” he mutters, rubbing the back of his neck and I smile dipping my finger into the mound of chocolate ice cream. I bring it to my lips, watching him from the corner of my eye as I suck it clean.

“Mmm,” I moan softly, my eyes falling to him and his jaw is slightly slack, eyes trained on my mouth.

I grin at him and snatch a strawberry from the cart, offering it to him. He eyes it for a moment then looks at me as he tentatively bites into it, his lips brushing my fingers, juice dribbling over my hand. He juts his chin out, his top teeth tugging his bottom lip into his mouth and sucking, trying to keep the juices from dripping down his chin but to no avail. He brings his hand up, wiping the liquid that is sliding down his jaw, chuckling slightly.

I lean in to kiss him, his lips sweeter than usual from the berry, and his hands grip my upper arms, losing himself in the kiss, his mouth ravaging mine. My hands go to his waist, hands fisting in the soft cotton of his t-shirt. I smile as his lips trail down my jaw, sucking lightly on my neck, his hands pulling my hips against his and I can feel him, half hard under the fabric of his jeans. He’s slipping the thin strap of my nighty from my shoulder, replacing it with a warm dry kiss, tugging at the fabric impatiently and I can’t help but tease him a little.

“Come on Jus, I want some ice cream,” I whine, pushing down a grin and he growls, scooping me off my feet and throwing me over his shoulder.

I yelp, closing my eyes as he sways, my stomach tightening but he regains his balance charging forward into the bedroom. I lose myself in laughter as he bumps into the door frame, asking him what the hell he’s doing and he silences me with a swift smack to my ass before dropping me on the bed and pouncing on top of me, mouth ravaging my neck.

I wiggle beneath him, pulling our bodies more firmly up onto the bed and he’s pressing his thigh against me again and I can’t help the moan that bubbles from my throat. I feel him fully hard, trapped beneath the denim of his jeans and I want him. I need to feel him, any part of him. My hands smooth under his t-shirt, his back wide and warm beneath my palms. I’m panting as I push his shirt up under his arms, pushing him back just enough to kiss his chest and I can feel his moan vibrate against my lips as he throws his head back, my tongue laving his nipple gently.

He whimpers slightly when I switch, my hands sliding down his sides, thumb rubbing the soft skin just beneath his belly button. He pulls back, ripping his shirt over his head, settling back on his knees looking down at me. He licks his lips, his warm hands smoothing up my bare thighs, pushing the hem of my nightie up, growling as he exposes my panties, brushing his thumb along the ink of my tattoo.

I gasp when he bends down to kiss it, fingers peeling back the elastic of my underwear, his lips smudging my skin lightly before covering me again, his hands moving to push the material of my nighty higher and higher. He bids me to sit up and I do, feeling his hands slide around my ribs before letting the fabric fall and I watch as he takes one long, slender finger and traces it along the low neckline, causing goose bumps to break out over my chest. He leans down, placing kisses on the tops of my breasts and I sigh, letting my head fall back, one arm locking behind me to support my weight the other hand delving into his mass of curls. His lips move over the thin fabric of the nightie and he licks at my nipple, puckered beneath the fabric. It takes a moment to feel the wetness from his mouth seep through the material, but when it does I groan low in my chest as my belly coils with want.

His hands slip around my back, reaching for the laces of my nighty and tugging until I feel the fabric loosen and his hand is warm against my now bare skin. His fingers walk up my spine, palms pressing flat against my shoulder blades as he parts the fabric more, the thin straps falling from my shoulders. He pulls back slightly, panting as my breasts are exposed to him and he immediately presses his lips to my breast bone, dragging his lips down the valley between my breasts and I let my body fall backwards in pleasure as his hands push the fabric down over my hips, thumbs hooking in my panties as he goes.

He sits back, tugging the material from my legs and tossing it aside, leaving me completely exposed to his hungry gaze. He takes my thighs in his hands and opens my legs wide, and I feel a prick of bashfulness as he licks his lips slowly. A slow smirk pulls at his mouth.

“I have an idea,” he says, and slides off the bed.

“Where are you going?” I ask, slightly alarmed, as he bounces out the French doors.

“Don’t move,” he calls over his shoulder and I sigh, falling back against the pillows, closing my legs. “Hey, I said don’t move.”

I look up and find him standing in the doorway, one of the huge bowls of ice cream in his hand, chocolate to be exact, and a spoon in the other. I quirk an eyebrow at him and he grins mischievously at me. He dips the spoon into the ice cream and brings it to his lips, sucking the spoon into his mouth before letting it slide out slowly, his eyes never leaving mine. Suddenly my breathing has gone shallow and all I can possibly think about is him, standing in the doorway, jeans low on his slim hips, bare chest glowing in the dim light, sucking on that spoon like… well… damn is it hot in here?

“You said you wanted ice cream, baby,” he says lowly, smirking at me in a giddy way and I bite my lip to contain my smile. His voice is soft, but chiding as he says. “Now, I told you not to move.”

I bite my lip, spreading my legs wantonly and I can’t believe I’m actually doing this. He can’t either judging by the look on his face. He grins like it’s Christmas morning as he approaches the bed, digging the spoon into the bowl and tugging it back out again, a giant mound of ice cream clinging to the end.

“Justin Timberlake don’t you dare!” I exclaim, trying to scramble backwards as he crawls onto the end of the bed.

“What?” he asks innocently. “I was just gonna feed it to you.”

I narrow my eyes at him suspiciously and he grins at me in that charming way that he has, biting his lip as he leans over me, bringing the spoon to my lips but he’s not quick enough, a drop of chocolate splashing against my chest, causing me to jump and yelp as the coldness slips over the mound of my breast. Justin watches it for a moment, his wide eyes meeting mine before breaking out into a grin and dipping his head and snaking his tongue out against my breast, lapping up the sticky liquid. He licks his lips as he pulls back, his gaze smoldering before he crushes his mouth to mine.

I’m so lost in the kiss that it’s a huge shock when he drags the spoon down the valley between my breasts and down my stomach to my belly button. I whine at the cold, my nipples hardening almost painfully and he grins at me as he sets the bowl next to us on the bed before he dips his head. I gasp as his mouth drags down my body, tongue licking at the sweet stickiness on my skin. My mouth falls open as I watch him flatten his tongue just above my belly button and he watches me as he licks all the way up, not stopping until he reaches the center of my chest where he places a soft kiss.

“You were right,” he whispers, licking his lips. “This stuff is good.”

He leans in to kiss me slowly before leaning back on his knees, brandishing his spoon, rivers of chocolate snaking down his hand and forearm. He smirks at me again as he brings the spoon down, coating my nipple and it’s so cold I cry out, whimpering and squirming as he does the same to the other.

“Justin, that’s cooooold,” I whine, as he drops the spoon in the bowl, rubbing his thumbs over my hardened peaks, slick and sticky with the creamy chocolate.

He doesn’t respond, just bends down to suck one into his mouth, his tongue flicking it relentlessly and my back arches, pressing my body up against him as pleasure shoots down to my center. I moan his name, fingers digging into his hair as he switches, cupping both my breasts in his hands as he sucks at my nipples, pressing his hips to mine, the denim of his jeans teasing me.

He pulls back from me and I’m panting, tossing my head about and rolling my hips up into him the best I can. The only thing I can concentrate on is the pleasure he gives and the ache in my belly, the need for him. When he doesn’t touch me again I open my eyes to find him digging another large scoop of ice cream from the bowl.

“Justin, what are you-” but it’s cut off by a sharp yelp as he lets the scoop fall onto my stomach, drops of creamy liquid sliding down my sides, melting instantly against my flushed skin.

“Makin’ a sundae,” he smirks, leaning over me and licking at the scoop and my stomach quivers, my hips twitching restlessly.

He situates his body between my legs, his chest pressing against my center as he laps at the ice cream, flicking his cold tongue against my hip bone every now and then causing me to hiss. And what he does next nearly sends me over the edge. He takes a bite of ice cream, swallows and then disappears between my legs, his cold tongue flicking against my searing flesh and I cry out and writhe in pleasure, begging him for more.

And he is more than happy to oblige, his hands, sticky and covered in chocolate, holding my thighs as he laves me gently with his tongue, poking and prodding and driving me insane. I whine as he pulls back up, licking more ice cream from my stomach and then going down again, licking and sucking until I’m so dizzy with pleasure I can barely breathe.

“Justin,” I pant, my hands pawing weakly at his shoulders, “please.”

He smirks up at me, bringing one hand away from my thigh and bringing it between my legs, flattening it against my pussy and rubbing slowly. My eyes roll back in my head and I’m so close, my hips grinding against his hand. He pulls back and I whimper but it melts into a low moan as he slips two long fingers into me, my body clutching at them and I need it. I need it right now. I beg him, my hand sliding down my sticky stomach to nestle in my folds, framing my clit. I nearly hit the ceiling when his lips wrap around that sensitive ball of nerves, sucking sweetly, his fingers curving inside me and I cry out, my body convulsing around him, pleasure curling in my belly and I lick my lips as I come down, panting.

He’s kissing my lower belly, tongue slipping out to lap at the melted ice cream still swiped across my skin. I’m a mess, covered in creamy rivers of brown chocolate, all over my chest, stomach and thighs. I giggle, looking down at him and his attention returns to my face, grinning as he clamors back up, hovering over me on braced arms.

He’s so gorgeous right now, hair tousled, curls sticking out wildly in every direction, blue eyes practically black with lust, lips swollen and full from…I shiver... and a bit of chocolate smudged on the side of his mouth

“You have chocolate on…” I trail as he looks down at me in that adoring way he does and I smile softly. I love him.

I pull my head up and his eyes slide shut, fully ready for me to kiss him but I pause, watching him for a moment, his beautiful face peaceful and waiting. I smile as I press my lips to the corner of his mouth, sucking his skin lightly, tasting the sweetness of the ice cream with the sweetness of his mouth. I feel him smile as and my tongue flicks out to taste his flesh and he turns his head, kissing me deeply.

I hook my leg around his waist and roll him so that he’s on his back. He arches his body because he’s rolled onto the bowl of ice cream and I giggle as he pulls it from under his back, setting it on the table. His hands are covered in the creamy chocolate and I grab his wrist, bringing his hand to my mouth, sucking his fingers in. I can feel his dick underneath me, twitching inside his pants as he moans softly, watching my every move.

I smirk down at him before slipping off of him and sauntering out into the living area

“Where are you going?!” he calls after me, alarm evident in his voice and I don’t even look back as I respond.

“Take your pants off, babe. I’ll be back in a sec.”

I can hear the rustling of denim and his grunts of frustration as he rids himself of the rest of his clothes and I can’t help but grin in anticipation. I snatch my item of choice from the dessert tray and sway back into the bedroom, finding him struggling to kick his boxers and jeans from his ankles.

His eyes meet mine and widen when he sees the bottle of chocolate syrup in my hand, all his movement stopping. He swallows hard, his eyes licking up and down my naked body as I saunter in and crawl over him to straddle his stomach. His eyes don’t leave me, watching my every move and I can’t help but smirk down at him.

“What’s the chocolate syrup for?” he asks, his voice thick and I grin at him.

“Makin’ a sundae,” I reply and he moans softly, watching as I undo the cap and turn the bottle upside down over his chest.

He gasps and his back arches as the cool chocolate dribbles across his heated skin. It melts into a moan as I bring my lips down, kissing and sucking the sweetness from his body, the chocolate rich and his skin soft beneath my tongue. He’s panting as I pull back and I bite my lip as I survey him, his body laid out beneath me. I love him.

I grin at him, sliding back a little and he steels himself as I hover over his aching shaft. He whines when I move back farther, sitting over his thighs but I shush him gently holding the bottle over him and he jumps as I drizzle chocolate over his chest, being careful to coat his nipples, all down his abdomen, and finally over his dick which twitches hard when the liquid dribbles over it. His head falls back against the pillows, a low groan bubbling from his chest and a tremor shakes through me as I toss the bottle aside, fully prepared to ravage him.

I lean down and lick at the chocolate on his chest, my tongue flicking over his nipple and he arches against me, moaning my name as I suck him clean before moving to the other and he’s trying so hard to brush his dick against me but I’m just out of reach and he’s too weak with pleasure to try and force me lower.

I lick down his stomach, enjoying the feeling of his muscles quivering under my lips and tongue and the sound of his moans and whines as he begs me to touch him where he wants me. But I take my time, licking up every trace of chocolate from his skin, tongue dipping into his belly button torturously.

“Skylar…please,” he practically sobs as I sit between his legs, his hips rolling up into the air, precum mixing with the chocolate on the head of his cock.

“What do you want, baby?” I ask, eyeing him and licking my lips slowly and his eyes roll back in his head.

“Please,” he whimpers softly, looking at me through heavy lids, chest heaving, stomach quivering. “Touch me.”

My breath catches in my throat at the need in his voice and who am I to deny him? I’ve never been able to before so why start now? He lets out a choked sob as I wrap both of my hands around his hard dick and stroke him up and down slow, the chocolate making him slick and sticky and he’s writhing beneath me, moaning things incoherently. He arches almost completely off the bed when I take the tip into my mouth, sucking sweetly before laving it with my tongue, licking it clean.

I work him into a state of pleasurable delirium, licking up and down his shaft, enjoying the taste of his flesh mixed with the chocolate. His fingers delve into my hair, the strands sticking to his fingers but I don’t care because I just want to taste him, to drive him crazy like he had just done to me. I take my time, licking and sucking every drop of chocolate from his flesh my pussy throbbing with each of his moans.

“Skylar,” he groans, his hands fisting in my hair, trying to tug me back. “Sky, fuck, please. I need you. I need to be inside you. Please.”

And then it’s as if something inside me snaps and I have to have him right now. I climb up over him, pressing my palm to his chest to steady myself as I position him at my entrance. He hisses as I slide the silken head of his dick against my entrance and I can’t help the moan that tears from my throat, when I slide him higher, rubbing him against my clit, torturing us both.

His hands reach out to grip my hips, his skin practically adhering to mine from the stickiness of the ice cream and he tugs me forward a little, causing his dick to align with my entrance. He pulls me down and I throw my head back, a guttural groan tearing from my throat as he pierces me and guides me all the way down his shaft, pushing and stretching my body in the most pleasurable way imaginable. He mumbles something that I can’t quite decipher.

But it doesn’t matter when he flicks his wrists and moves me up his shaft before relaxing and letting me fall back down flush against him, my clit bumping his hip bone. I gasp my head hanging forward, fingers digging into his chest. I bite my lip, settling against his lap, feeling him deep inside of me. I’m dizzy from it, from the pleasure and the closeness and I look down at him, watching him watch me. He peels his hands from my hips, reaching up to cup my face and pull me down, tugging my face to his so he can kiss me, his tongue slipping past my lips.

I pull back panting, leaning back and feeling him slide deeper and we both groan at the sensation. I peel my hand from over his heart and a chocolate hand print is left in its place. I giggle slightly and Justin grins up at me, eyelids fluttering as I rub my hands up and down his chest and stomach, my hips rocking against him slowly.

“Come on, Sky,” he pants, tucking his chin against his chest and watching my hips roll. “Give it to me, girl.”

I moan in response, spreading my fingers wide over his ribs as I pick my hips up and drop back down onto him, setting a steady pace, his strong hands guiding me. I throw my head back, pleasure buzzing in my veins, whining and moaning, enjoying the feel of his sticky hands traveling up and down my stomach and sides, gripping my breasts. I slam down harder as his fingers roll my nipples and I can feel myself heating up, my mind set on nothing else but the pleasure he’s giving me.

My nails claw at his chest as I struggle to make my hips roll faster, to get me there because I’m close and he feels so good inside me, just stretching and pressing and filling me so completely, but I just can’t seem to get in the right position. I struggle and whine, hips gyrating, trying to find that spot inside me that he seems to hit so effortlessly.

I hang my head back in frustration, my hips rising and dropping quickly, chasing it, chasingchasingchasing.

And then he growls and I’m being rolled under him swiftly, our sticky torsos suctioning together as he presses his hips hard against mine, raising himself on his hands. He pulls out and rushes back in roughly and I throw my head back, moaning loudly because there it is. He never misses.

And he knows it because he’s smirking down at me, panting as he rolls his hips into me over and over again and I raise my legs, feeling him hit me deep and hard. I’m writhing beneath him, saying incoherent things and moaning, hands clawing at his back while he works me so good.

He stops for a second and I whine as he pulls back to sit on his knees, but I growl when he grips my hips, pulling me into his lap, my head sliding off the pillow, my weight resting on my shoulder blades as he rises on his knees and starts to pound into me with such force I think our hips may break.

The groan that forces from his throat sends a shiver down my spine as his hips crash into mine over and over and over again. I love the little sounds me makes, quiet whimpers, quick grunts, breathy moans, every fucking sound he makes brings me closer and closer to the edge.

“Oh god, Justin,” I whimper, my hands reaching up to paw at his chest, feeling my body beginning to quake, my pussy on fire.

He growls as he pulls out and he grabs my ankle, pulling my leg out and up and I hiss because I don’t bend that way, but when he slides back into me the pleasure that rips through me is enough to make me scream. Each thrust is so deliciously bittersweet because I seriously don’t bend this way but I can’t even tell him to stop. I would never tell him to stop. He can rip my fucking leg off as long as he doesn’t stop.

And when it hits me I scream, my throat threatening to rip open from the rawness of it, my body convulsing over and over and over and I can’t stop, my head thrashing, wave after wave crashing over me. As their intensity wanes I whine, bringing a hand up to my flushed face. But when he lets go of my leg and falls over me again, his hips rolling hard into mine, it comes back full force and I shout out again, nails clawing down his back as he groans into my hair, his orgasm shaking through him and he’s whining and moaning, hips pressing hard and deep into me as I finally come down, my body laying limp under him.

He lets out one last loud groan as his body relaxes, lowering himself over me to lay flush against me. My legs splay on either side of his slim hips, my arms sliding slowly from around his back until my biceps rest against the mattress, my hands running up and down his sides.

He nestles his face in my neck, lips kissing me softly, coming down from his high as I come down from mine, shivering as I feel him go soft inside me. My eyes tear up and this overwhelming wave of emotion hits me. IlovehimIlovehimIlovehim. I wonder if I should tell him…

He giggles slightly, peeling his body away from mine and it stings a little, the chocolate adhering us together. His nose bumps mine as he kisses me deeply, his tongue surging past my lips as he tries to untangle his legs from mine to lay beside me.

“Oh my god, look at this mess!” I say laughing as I take in our sticky, chocolate covered bodies and the stained white sheets. It looks like someone dropped us in a mud puddle.

“We can call housekeeping,” Justin says, leaning over the side of the bed to reach for the phone.

I watch him as he lays on his stomach, phone nestled under his ear, asking the front desk for housekeeping and I lick my lips. I take in the little bump of his ass as it curves into his waist, the tanned expanse of his back, his freckled shoulders. I bite my lip as I crawl over him, laying so that my breasts are flat against his ass, pressing my lips to his lower back. I feel him shiver, his voice stalling for a moment before ordering more sheets to Penthouse One. I press kisses up his spine and I’ve reached the middle of his back by the time he hangs up the phone.

“Woman, what are you doin’ back there?” he chuckles and I smile against his skin, my arms wrapping around him, pressing my cheek to his back, feeling him breathe, listening to his heart thud steadily under his ribs. I love him.

“Nothin’,” I sigh and he shivers as my breath fans his skin lightly.

“What do you say we take a shower?” he asks, his voice vibrating his skin and I grin as I rub my cheek against him.

“We are very dirty,” I giggle and his laugh reverberates through his back.

“That we are,” he grins, pushing himself up and I slide off him, rolling onto my side, bounding after him as he crawls out of bed.

I wrap my arms around his shoulders and press myself against his back, not being able to stand to be away from him for even the second it takes to walk from one room to the next. Because I love him.

He turns in my arms, his hands smoothing up my back and kissing me slowly and deeply in that way that I love, his tongue slipping past my lips lazily, tasting me, enjoying it. My hands cup his neck, my thumbs pressing just under his sideburns, sucking his bottom lip softly and he moans against me pulling back to survey my face.

His eyes bore into me and I’ve read in books about how you can get lost in someone’s gaze and I always thought it was stupid and cheesy until this moment. Because right now I’m literally I’m drowning in him, swimming through his sapphire gaze, lost in this sea of emotion that has me reeling and turned upside down but I’m not scared. Because I feel safe with him. I feel safe with him because…

“I love you,” he says softly, his hands brushing my hair back from my face and it steals my breath because I’m ready. I’m ready to tell him.

“I-”

I’m cut off by a sharp knock on the door. I sigh in frustration and Justin pulls back from me and he’s so far away.

“Housekeeping,” he mutters, grinning, nuzzling his nose against mine and I sigh.

“I’ll get it,” I say, pecking a kiss on his lips. I’ll tell him later. I’m sure he’ll say it again. He always does.

“You sure?” he asks as I reach for one of the fluffy robes hanging by the bathroom door.

“Yeah,” I say, shrugging it on and tying it in the front. “You turn on the shower. I’ll be back in a sec.”

I give him a small smile before turning to walk back into the bedroom and out into the living area. I’m giddy and flushed and sticky and this has been one of the best nights I’ve ever had.  Here with him, in our sanctuary. Nothing can get us here. Nothing.

I swing the door open, fully expecting to see a short woman in a maid’s uniform with a big pile of sheets and blankets. What I actually see nearly causes me to scream.

“Hello, Skylar.”

“P-p-professor Isbel?” I somehow manage to tremor out, my eyes wide as saucers as I take in his rugged appearance.

“What, we’re apart for a couple months and its Professor Isbel again?” he grins at me and I’m still shocked and spun and completely unable to think.

“I’m sorry… Andrew,” I say, laughing nervously.

Andrew Isbel, my professor, my mentor, the man who brought art to life for me in college. The man who has molded me and guided me through my undergraduate and graduate studies. The same man who tried to feel me up in his office four months ago, who got me this job. The man who is supposed to be in Greece until September is here at my door.

“Look, Sky,” he says, his blue eyes soft and contrite. “I’m sorry about your thesis. I was.. I was just tired and we were having trouble with the government. I would have told you that but the phones went down on the site and,” he shakes his head sighing, “it was all just a mess.”

“Oh…um…yeah,” I say, reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear and I notice the chocolate syrup that is still covering my palm. I immediately cross my arms behind my back. I’ve got to find a way to get rid of him.

But I’m nervous, and I do what I always do when I get nervous; I ramble. I start to tell him about teaching, and the tour, and the music and I can’t stop myself. My brain is working furiously, trying to think of anything to say that will get him to leave.

His eyes are not on my face anymore, as I try and stutter out some form of coherent conversation. I watch as his eyes travel down my neck and the v of my robe, exposing entirely too much of my breast bone which is most likely covered in chocolate.

“…it’s been an interesting summer,” I conclude, finally ending my ramble and his eyes meet mine again.

“Well, it seems they’ve paid you well,” he grins, looking back into the room and I smile weakly at him. I have to get rid of him. 

“Hey Sky!”

My eyes nearly explode out of my skull as I hear Justin’s voice waft from the other room, his tone excited and I pray to God that he just stays in there. Please, please, please God if you’re up there do not, under any circumstances let him…

“Babe, have you SEEN the shower! It’s huge! It took me forever to figure out how to turn it on... uh oh”

Justin’s voice cuts off abruptly and I turn to find him – oh my God – wrapped in just a towel, his eyes as wide as mine and, much to my chagrin, my chocolate hand print still prominent on his chest.

I can’t even look at my professor. I can’t look at Justin. I can only look at the floor and silently pray that it swallows me whole.

We’re so royally fucked.