Complicated Page 9

  "The lower register shows—"

  "Will you come over here?" he asks, rolling onto his side. I look up to find him with his curly head propped on his hand again, his other hand smoothing over the empty space next to him.

  "Harry," I say, giving him a weary look. We have to get through the section. We're already behind.

  "Come on, Scarlett." He sighs, reaching down to adjust himself in his shorts and this is in no way sexual but Christ if it doesn't turn me on anyway. "You can teach me just as well from here as you can from over there."

  "Actually, I think having the room between us makes for a more productive learning environment," I say, smiling a little as he pouts.

  "Scarrrrrr," he groans, and I shake my head at him, looking down at my notes again.

  "The lower register shows barbarians being taken captive by roman soldiers. How do we know they're barbarians?"

  When he doesn't respond right away I look up and find him once again staring intently at me, his smoldering green eyes visible even from across the room. A shiver runs through me as I shift in my chair, crossing my legs trying to quell the ache between my thighs. Yeah, sometimes an entire room isn't even enough space.

  "Harry," I call and he sighs, glancing down at his book.

  "They have bushy hair and cork necklaces," he says flatly, rolling onto his back again, rubbing at the crotch of his shorts a little. I have to drop my eyes back to my notes before I'm tempted to simply run over there and ravage him.

  "Torque necklaces," I correct him, clearing my throat. He makes a sound of indifference.

  "Whatever," he mutters and rolls on his side again, propping himself up on an elbow, surveying me from under his long dark lashes. "You sure you don't wanna come over here and lay with me?"

  "Harry," I warn again, eyeing him sternly but my resolve crumbles when he lets his head fall to the side and he pulls his bottom lip between his teeth and all it takes is one word, uttered innocently...

  "Please?"

  I sigh, a little irritated as I haul myself out of my chair and close the gap between us. He's grinning giddily up at me, scooting back to allow more room for me, pulling his book up to lay above his head. He may have won this battle, but we are going to get through this section tonight. I drop my notes between us as I lay down next to him, mimicking his pose, propping my head on my hand and looking down at the folder between us.

  Before I even get one word out of my mouth, one of his large hands is smoothing over my hip, the heat of his skin searing me through my sweatpants. I sigh as his hand slides higher, fingers brushing the small exposed strip of skin between the top of my pants and the hem of my tank top. I try to ignore him and continue on.

  "In the top register we have Augustus seated with his feet on a shield. The shield is the only thing breaking the two registers. Seated next to him is Roma, the goddess of...Harry, would you stop!"

  His finger, that was slowly stroking the exposed skin of my hip had dipped down, wrapping in the thin ribbon of my drawstring, and he is now tugging slightly, undoing the bow and I can feel them loosen around my waist. He pouts at me as I shove his hands away, huffing a little before going back to my notes.

  "Would you focus, please?" I say, doing my best to keep my breathing steady. I don't know much longer I can.

  "Yes," he replies, his voice deep, his face contorted in mock seriousness. "Focus."

  As he says this, he moves to pull his hand to his chest, palm brushing my breast as he does and there is no way in hell that shit was unintentional. I huff, fighting the shudder that's threatening to quake through me and I grab my notebook, rolling until my back is to him.

  "Now, where was I..." I say, ignoring his arm that is snaking around my waist, tugging me closer to him. I nearly moan as I feel him hard and wanting, hands pressing into my ass. His hips wiggle impatiently, his face burying in my hair. His hand slides up my stomach to cup my breast in his large hand, squeezing a little and I can practically feel him twitch in his pants, a slow hiss stirring my hair. God, he's pressing his hips into me like some kind of horny teenager...which...he is...shit.

  I shake my head, trying to ignore him as I go on, covering the rest of the Gemma Augustae and the Forum of Trajan, the Coliseum, and the pantheon. He's really restless now, rocking his hips into me steadily and I can barely fucking breathe his arms are wrapped so tight around me.

  "Are we done yet?" he whines as I tell him the very last fact on the pantheon.

  I flip through my notes, counting that we have three more pieces to go. Just three more pieces, but the way he's pressing into me, the way his breath is coming in pants against my ear, he can't wait three more pieces. Fuck, I can't wait three more pieces.

  "Yeah," I sigh, hating myself as I toss the notebook onto the floor. "We're done for the night."

  "Finally!" Harry exclaims brightly, jumping off the bed. "Are you ready? I'm ready. Let's do it."

  My eyes widen as I watch him tear his wifebeater over his head, thumbs hooking in the waistband of his basketball shorts. "Harry, calm down," I giggle slightly, watching him reach down to try and pull his sock from his foot.

  "Its been five days," he pants, stumbling a little as he pulls off his other sock, nearly falling but he catches himself on the bed.

  "You okay there?" I ask, giggling, but it turns into a moan as he pushes his boxers to the floor. Five days is a long fucking time.

  "I'm fine. Let's do this," he breathes excitedly. He practically pounces on me and I have to laugh at his enthusiasm. His mouth is on mine instantly, tongue sliding in, hips pressing needily against mine, fingers tugging clumsily at my clothes. I giggle again, pushing at his shoulder a little so I can tug my tank top over my head. He sits back and watches me, mouth slightly open as my body is revealed to him. I reach back to undo my bra, looking anywhere but at him, slightly uncomfortable under his predatory stare. He makes a strangled sound in his throat when my breasts are revealed to him and his hands reach out to cover them instantly, fondling roughly.

  I wince. "Easy, Harry," I breathe and he looks at my face, his touch instantly softening, stroking my skin slowly.

  "Sorry...is this better?" he pants and I nod, reaching down to push my pants and panties down my hips, kicking them off my legs.

  He climbs on top of me instantly, his mouth pressing to mine and I giggle again, feeling him pressing into my belly so hard, so needy. I wrap my arms around him, hands smoothing around his back, one going up to fist in the curls at the base of his skull. I pull his mouth from mine and he whines a little, looking down at me.

  "Slow. Down. Harry," I order slowly, laughing at his earnestness and he smiles sheepishly.

  "Sorry," he grins, tugging his bottom lip between his teeth and a wave of heat flows through me, settling in my center.

  He dips his head, kissing me slow and passionate, his tongue sliding in and massaging mine. I moan into his mouth, shifting my hips impatiently. He knows now (after five days of quick makeout sessions) just how to make me moan, how to make me press harder into him, how to drive me fucking insane. I swear to God this boy's mouth...

  "Oh!" he exclaims, pulling back suddenly and bounding off the bed. I'm dizzied slightly by his movement, watching him grab his basketball shorts, turning them over and over in his hands, searching for the pockets. I watch him for a moment, sitting up a little when he produces a small foil square, dropping his shorts to the floor again. "I remembered the condom!"

  He's grinning proudly at me, as if waiting to be patted on the head and I smile back at him, nodding. I fight the urge to say "very good" because while I am his teacher and he's my student, we are not bringing that into this. I'm guilty enough as it is.

  But shit, he's like fucking Adonis or something else equally as poetic and ridiculous. His body is perfect. Angelic face, curly hair, broad shoulders, rippled abdomen, small waist, and his dick...standing at attention. I feel another rush of pleasure and I can feel myself practically dripping on the sheets.

  "Now, I just h
ave to figure out how to use it," he mumbles and my attention is snapped back to his face again.

  His brow is furrowed and he's holding the condom close to his nose, reading something on the package. Oh my God. "Harry," I say, closing my eyes, the guilt washing over me again. "What...what are you doing?"

  "Reading the directions," he says absently, chewing on the inside of his cheek.

  I run a hand over my face, trying to remain calm. He's reading the directions. He doesn't know how to put on a condom. He's seventeen years old, my conscience screams at me and I wince a little before shoving it down.

  "Harry, I know how to put on a fucking condom," I say quickly and his eyes snap to mine, widening, and I can practically see his cock twitch. And he's back on the bed in half a second, settling in front of me, panting, shoving the condom into my hand. I fight the urge to roll my eyes as I kneel in front of him. I can't believe I'm doing this.

  "Okay, first you open the package...with your hands, not your teeth. Just tear along the edge," I instruct as I tear into the foil and he nods, his eyes trained on my hands as I pull the condom out. "You're gonna hold the end," I tell him as I pinch the tip, "so you don't get air or anything in there when you put it on. You don't want it to break." He nods his head at me, his eyes still watching my hands. "And then you just roll it on," I order as I begin to roll it down his shaft and he shivers. "Oh, and make sure the roll is on the outside," I add as I roll it all the way to the base.

  Our eyes meet and we both just stare at each other for a moment. Okay, so I swore I would never be his teacher in bed but hell, who am I kidding. It seems that rules are just meant to be broken when it comes to him, even the ones I've made for myself. After a moment we burst into giggles, him blushing a little. I place my hands on his shoulders and kiss him, feeling my body heat up again at the mere taste of him. How can he just do this to me with one kiss?

  I press him back and his legs slide out straight as he settles underneath me, gazing up at me in anticipation. His hands move to grip my hips and he pauses, reaching out to brush his thumb over the black ink on my lower belly. I hiss a little because it stings and he moves to brush under it instead, studying my face intently.

  "Still healing?" he asks, licking his lips and I nod, looking down my body at it. I still can't believe I have a fucking tattoo. "Scarlett," he breathes and I see that his face is contorted in want.

  He's looking down at the space where our bodies are about to be connected and I watch as one of his hands leaves my hip to reach between us tentatively. His eyes flit to mine, asking permission and I nod to him, my eyelids fluttering as he rubs the tip of his dick along my folds, sending jolts of pleasure through me. He's panting as he places himself at my entrance and nudges his hips up a little, piercing me slightly and I moan, beginning my descent down, taking him in slowly inch by inch.

  His head is pressed back hard into the mattress, eyes squeezed shut and I lean forward a little, bracing myself on his chest as I get ready to roll my hips into him. His nails dig hard into my waist and he grits his teeth. God, he's so fucking gorgeous.

  I begin to roll hard against him, my eyes sliding shut, working my hips slowly. I'm panting now, concentrating on the feel of him stretching me completely, filling me up. Five days is just too damn long.

  "This is amazing," he breathes and my eyes open to find him staring up at me, his gaze glassy. I can't help but grin.

  "Yeah," I breathe, leaning back a little and I feel him slide deeper, my mouth falling open in a groan.

  I'm rocking hard against him, my palms flat against his chest, his heart thudding under my hand. He's pressing hard on my hips and his breath is coming in short, manic pants. I peek down at him, finding his face contorted in pleasure, and I lean down, pressing my mouth to his. He kisses me back hungrily, his hands smoothing up my back, nails clutching at my spine.

  "God, Scar," he pants, his hands skimming up and down my back, and I'm too caught up in the feeling of him inside me to even respond.

  I lean back again, pushing my hair out of my face, my fingers lining up with his ribs. He's pressing against that spot inside of me and my hips roll faster, my knees sliding further apart trying to take him deeper and I can feel myself clutch at him involuntarily. I'm close already. God, I'm so fucking close.

  "Scarlett," he moans, his hips pressing up into me and I'm practically there if he would just... "Scarlett I'm gonna..." He swallows hard and my nails dig into his chest because I'm so... "Scarlett, don't..."

  And then he groans deep in his chest, the muscles in his stomach tightening and his hips twitch hard up into me and I know what just happened. I roll my hips harder but I know it's over. I hang my head back, groaning low in my chest, my body still pulsing and tears sting my eyes. I was so fucking close.

  "God, Scar... I'm... I'm sorry," he pants and I look down at him and his face is red, whether it's from his release or embarrassment I'm not sure.

  "It's... it's fine," I grit out, pulling off of him, running my hands through my hair. My body is still on fire, the ache in my stomach so intense, and I'm fighting the urge to just finish myself off right in front of him.

  "No," he says, sitting up, growling as he rips the condom off and tosses it in the trashcan. "I can fix this."

  I chuckle. "Fix it?" I reply disbelievingly. "Harry...it's..." I sigh, closing my eyes and swallowing hard. "It's okay."

  "No," he says quickly and I feel him climb on top of me, my body falling back against the bed, my head hitting the pillow with a plop. "I got this."

  He kisses my neck and I pant, pressing my hips up against him, trying to get some type of friction but he's soft against my hip and I groan. There's no way...but his lips are sliding down to my collarbone, his hands palming my breasts in the gentle way I had admonished him into. When his lips find one peak I groan loud, wrapping my legs around his waist and rocking against him. I just...I need it...I can't even think anymore.

  His mouth is moving down my stomach, his tongue leaving a wet trail in the dim light. His hands are sliding warmly up the outside of my thighs as he moves to settle between my legs. He grins up at me sheepishly and I feel one of his hands move from my thigh. When he touches me I arch my back, tingles rushing down to my toes.

  I yelp when he slides his fingers in, reaching down to grip his shoulders. "Easy there, Harry," I breathe and he cringes a little.

  "Sorry," he whispers, pulling out and then thrusting back in gently and I let my head fall back. "Scarlett?" he calls and I can feel his breath against me, goosebumps prickling my flesh. Shit, the things he does to me. The way he says my name.

  "Hmmm," I respond, wiggling my hips a little because his fingers have stopped.

  "Can I..." he trails, and I look down at him and he gestures down and licks his lips, grinning a little uncertainly, and my eyes widen at his suggestion.

  I nod slowly and he dips his head, nothing visible but golden brown curls nestled between my legs. I groan low as I feel his tongue reach out to tentatively lick my folds, my hands moving to wrap in his hair. He's slow and cautious, his tongue laving me gently, his fingers moving slowly. He stumbles across my clit and I moan loudly, feeling him jump a little at the sound, looking up at me before grinning and dipping his head again. His tongue rolls right next to my clit and if he would just move over a little...

  I sigh, frustrated, tugging one hand from his hair and he stops. "Here," I say, making a "v" of my middle and forefinger, framing my clit for him and he leans down, flattening his tongue between my fingers and I moan loudly, my hips rising up against him.

  Fire is coiling in my belly and his fingers massage in and out of me, his tongue working against me. My breathing is hitching, soft whimpers and low groans escaping my lips at the sensations that are rolling through my body, my hand in his hair scraping his scalp.

  "Am I doing this right?" he asks, looking up at me and I tug hard on his curls.

  "Don't stop," I growl, and he immediately starts again, his lips smudging against my c
lit, staying within the confines of my fingers.

  I can feel myself start to tremble, the pleasure building in me and I tug at his hair, my hips bucking into his face, chasing that feeling that's coiling in me. I feel my toes start to tingle and my breathing hitches when he wraps his lips around my clit and sucks, throwing me over the edge abruptly. I shout out, my hips arching off the bed and I can feel him growl a little, using his free hand to hold me down so he can keep his lips firmly in place.

  I collapse back against the sheets, my body limp, my breathing ragged. I whimper a little when I feel him slide his fingers out, gasping as I watch him lick them clean. I pull my own hand from my folds and he catches my wrist, sucking my fingers into his mouth and I let my head fall back against the pillow, eyes closing. He amazes me sometimes.

  "That was cool," he says breathlessly as he climbs up my body and plops down next to me. I chuckle a little at the enthusiasm in his voice. "I mean I could feel you cu—"

  "Harry," I cut him off, sighing, and he stops abruptly.

  "Sorry, am I ruining your post coital thing?" he asks and I feel him stretch out next to me, pressing his front against my side.

  "A little," I breathe and he nuzzles his nose into my neck.

  "Sorry," he says, placing a soft kiss on my pulse point before burying his face in my neck, his arm snaking across my stomach, tugging me closer and curling his body around mine.

  "Harry," I say after a moment and shiver when I feel his hum of acknowledgement vibrate against my skin. "You should go."

  The words taste bitter in my mouth but I have a rule about him sleeping here. His mom wakes him up in the morning. I'm pretty sure she would freak the fuck out if he wasn't there. And the first door she would knock on would most likely be mine because I was the one who saw him last. That's all we need. So he absolutely, cannot, under any circumstances—

  "Scar, just let me stay a little while," he begs softly, placing soft, dry kisses along the column of my neck. "I'll get up and leave early. I promise."