Read Online Out of Her League by Samantha Wayland - Free Book Online
Authors: Samantha Wayland
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fucking. One that wouldn’t leave her wrist
sore and didn’t require her to keep at least one part of her brain grounded in
reality and logistics.
But then, Mr. Big had something no man would
ever be able to offer her: a vibrate function.
She shouted into the covers as shocks
zoomed over her body, her spine snapping tight, her arm arching as she pumped
the heavy dildo into herself.
She pictured Lachlan there, doing this, holding the toys and working her over, his cock hanging heavy and untouched
between his legs. He’d turn all his considerable focus to pleasing her. He
would want to do that. He was so thoughtful. So careful.
She shook as the tension coiled in her
belly, her clit screaming from endless stimulation, her imagination firing off
flashing images of Lachlan stroking the hair from her face, steadying her with
a hand on her hip, brushing his warm skin and soft lips against her.
A sob tore from her when she finally tipped
over the edge. She rode the swells of pleasure for as long as she could stand
it, until she trembled and ached with overstimulation. Her clumsy fingers
frantically fumbled for the off switches, the vibrator dropping to the bed with
a dull thud.
She bit her lip and dragged Mr. Big out of
her body, then collapsed onto the bed and sucked in a few good, long breaths,
wallowing in the release of tension. In the twitching aftershocks of pleasure deep
in her core.
Her eyes slid closed, heavy, and she almost
fell to sleep before jerking herself awake and jumping from the bed. She
staggered before catching herself up against the mattress.
God, she wanted to get back into bed, but
she had at least a couple of hours of work she had to do tonight.
She took a moment to let her legs steady
beneath her before cleaning up, putting on the warm, soft clothes she’d
promised herself earlier, and stumbling out to the living room. Fang jumped up
on the couch, ready to snuggle up the moment she landed on one of the cushions,
and she was tempted again to lie down and close her eyes.
Her phone lit up with a text message.
Walk tomorrow? 8am with breakfast?
When did having breakfast start to feel
like a huge breakthrough? She hastily typed out a reply. Yes! Meet in my
lobby?
Ok.
Michaela was still grinning a few minutes
later when she checked her email and saw the message from her brother, titled
“Lachlan Morrison? Anything you want to tell us about?” with a link to some
blog.
Her hands shook as she clicked on the link
to the Crimson Gossip .
Chapter Six
Lachlan strode down Mass Ave, feeling good
about the day ahead. He had his graduate-level course and office hours this
afternoon, both of which had proven to be interesting and lively over the past
couple weeks. He’d taught several of these students before, but there were a
host of new and fascinating minds in the mix now, too. He liked how the two
groups were coming together, and seeing how much the students he already knew
had grown, how their thinking had expanded and changed. It was enormously
satisfying.
He stopped in front of Michaela’s building,
hovering for a moment.
Mike, of course, appeared before Lachlan
could get it together. “Good morning, Professor,” he called before holding the
door open for him—an invitation that Lachlan had always refused in the past.
He didn’t intend to today, but then Mike
let the door swing shut, leaving them standing together on the sidewalk.
Lachlan frowned and looked through the window to where Michaela sat on a padded
bench in the lobby, studying her phone.
“It’s not my place,” Mike began as he took
a couple quick steps closer.
Lachlan braced, as if for impact.
“But do you know what’s bothering her?
She’s been like that since she came down fifteen minutes ago. Hardly said good
morning.”
Lachlan shrugged. “Maybe she’s just not a
morning person?” he ventured.
Mike shook his head. “I see her at this
hour all the time. She’s always up early. Any other day she’d ask
sore and didn’t require her to keep at least one part of her brain grounded in
reality and logistics.
But then, Mr. Big had something no man would
ever be able to offer her: a vibrate function.
She shouted into the covers as shocks
zoomed over her body, her spine snapping tight, her arm arching as she pumped
the heavy dildo into herself.
She pictured Lachlan there, doing this, holding the toys and working her over, his cock hanging heavy and untouched
between his legs. He’d turn all his considerable focus to pleasing her. He
would want to do that. He was so thoughtful. So careful.
She shook as the tension coiled in her
belly, her clit screaming from endless stimulation, her imagination firing off
flashing images of Lachlan stroking the hair from her face, steadying her with
a hand on her hip, brushing his warm skin and soft lips against her.
A sob tore from her when she finally tipped
over the edge. She rode the swells of pleasure for as long as she could stand
it, until she trembled and ached with overstimulation. Her clumsy fingers
frantically fumbled for the off switches, the vibrator dropping to the bed with
a dull thud.
She bit her lip and dragged Mr. Big out of
her body, then collapsed onto the bed and sucked in a few good, long breaths,
wallowing in the release of tension. In the twitching aftershocks of pleasure deep
in her core.
Her eyes slid closed, heavy, and she almost
fell to sleep before jerking herself awake and jumping from the bed. She
staggered before catching herself up against the mattress.
God, she wanted to get back into bed, but
she had at least a couple of hours of work she had to do tonight.
She took a moment to let her legs steady
beneath her before cleaning up, putting on the warm, soft clothes she’d
promised herself earlier, and stumbling out to the living room. Fang jumped up
on the couch, ready to snuggle up the moment she landed on one of the cushions,
and she was tempted again to lie down and close her eyes.
Her phone lit up with a text message.
Walk tomorrow? 8am with breakfast?
When did having breakfast start to feel
like a huge breakthrough? She hastily typed out a reply. Yes! Meet in my
lobby?
Ok.
Michaela was still grinning a few minutes
later when she checked her email and saw the message from her brother, titled
“Lachlan Morrison? Anything you want to tell us about?” with a link to some
blog.
Her hands shook as she clicked on the link
to the Crimson Gossip .
Chapter Six
Lachlan strode down Mass Ave, feeling good
about the day ahead. He had his graduate-level course and office hours this
afternoon, both of which had proven to be interesting and lively over the past
couple weeks. He’d taught several of these students before, but there were a
host of new and fascinating minds in the mix now, too. He liked how the two
groups were coming together, and seeing how much the students he already knew
had grown, how their thinking had expanded and changed. It was enormously
satisfying.
He stopped in front of Michaela’s building,
hovering for a moment.
Mike, of course, appeared before Lachlan
could get it together. “Good morning, Professor,” he called before holding the
door open for him—an invitation that Lachlan had always refused in the past.
He didn’t intend to today, but then Mike
let the door swing shut, leaving them standing together on the sidewalk.
Lachlan frowned and looked through the window to where Michaela sat on a padded
bench in the lobby, studying her phone.
“It’s not my place,” Mike began as he took
a couple quick steps closer.
Lachlan braced, as if for impact.
“But do you know what’s bothering her?
She’s been like that since she came down fifteen minutes ago. Hardly said good
morning.”
Lachlan shrugged. “Maybe she’s just not a
morning person?” he ventured.
Mike shook his head. “I see her at this
hour all the time. She’s always up early. Any other day she’d ask
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