All Chapters of My Best Friend’s Brother Is My Professor—And He Wants Me: Chapter 71 - Chapter 80

Killian DavenportI carry her into the bedroom and set her down on the edge of the mattress. She’s still smiling that small, defiant little smile, but her breathing is already uneven. I stand over her and look down.“Take the shirt off.”Elena pulls it over her head without argument. The soft fabric drops to the floor. She’s completely naked underneath. Her nipples are already tight and peaked. My cock throbs hard against the front of my sweatpants at the sight of her.Fuck.She’s perfect. Soft curves, smooth skin, the faint marks I left on her last night is still visible. I want to ruin her all over again.“Look at you,” I murmur. “Already so needy and I haven’t even touched you yet.”I open the bottom drawer of the nightstand and pull out the soft black tie I’ve kept there. Her eyes widen slightly when she sees it, but she doesn’t protest. I take her wrists, bring them together above her head, and bind them carefully.It’s tight enough that she feels the restraint but loose eno

Killian DavenportThe second the last student files out, I text her.My office. Now.I don’t wait for a reply. I already know she’ll come.I close my laptop, stack the papers I don’t actually need to look at, and lean back in the chair. The image of her in that white shirt won’t leave my head. Three buttons open. Soft curve of her cleavage every time she shifted in her seat. I spent the entire lecture forcing my gaze away from her and failing. Every time I looked up, my eyes landed on that open collar. On the way the fabric moved when she breathed. It was deliberate. She knew exactly what she was doing.Irritation and something darker coil low in my gut.A soft knock sounds at the door. She doesn’t wait for permission. Elena steps inside, bag over one shoulder, and no, those buttons are still not buttoned up. Her hair falls loose over her shoulders. Red gloss still perfect on her mouth. She closes the door behind her and leans against it for a second, watching me.I keep my face neut

Killian DavenportI keep my arms around her for a long moment after the words leave my mouth.This is going to be the best weekend ever.I meant it. But the letters are still sitting on the bed beside us and I can’t stop thinking about them. She wrote those when she was thirteen. Fourteen. Careful words from a girl who never expected to be seen. I spent seven years building a life on another continent while she kept pieces of me in a box under her bed. The thought does something sharp and tender behind my ribs at the same time.I pull back just enough to look at her. Her cheeks are still flushed. Her eyes are a little glassy. I cup her face and kiss her again. She melts into it with a soft sound that settles low in my gut. My thumb strokes her cheek as I taste her. When I finally break the kiss, I rest my forehead against hers.“Those letters,” I murmur. “You had no idea what you were doing to me just now.”She gives a small, embarrassed laugh. “I can’t believe you actually read them

Elena CarsonI sit up on the bed, still breathing hard.My legs feel weak. The aftershocks of the orgasm are still fluttering low in my belly as I watch Killian disappear down the stairs. The candles around the room flicker softly. For a few seconds I just stay there, trying to catch my breath.When he doesn’t come back right away, I reach for my skirt and pull it on with slightly unsteady hands. Curiosity gets the better of me. I stand and walk quietly to the top of the stairs, peering down.Killian is standing at the open front door, talking to a woman.She’s wearing a sleek bikini under a long, transparent cover-up that does almost nothing to hide her body. Long blonde hair falls in soft waves down her back. She’s curvy, confident, and radiating the kind of mature, effortless sexiness that makes something insecure twist in my stomach. Their eyes meet something she says, and then she looks past him, straight up at me.She smiles.“There you are.”I suddenly feel underdressed and too

Elena CarsonMy body is on fire.Every nerve ending feels raw and oversensitive. The vibrating egg is still pressed tight against my clit, sending steady pulses that make my thighs tremble even when I try to stay still. My nipples ache in the best and worst way. They’re pinched just tight enough that the slightest shift of the chain sends sharp sparks of need straight down between my legs. I’m light-headed, floating somewhere between the leftover alcohol and pure, overwhelming arousal. Thinking straight is almost impossible.Killian sits across from me, laptop open, looking completely composed. Every few moments his eyes lift and drag over the ears, collar, clamped nipples. Each time he looks, heat floods my face and my pussy clenches around nothing.I press my lips together hard, determined not to make a sound. Our eyes meet. The corner of his mouth curves into a small, satisfied smirk. He picks up the remote and presses something.The vibration jumps higher.A full-body shud