"I needed time to think," I say quietly.
"Think about what? About leaving? About running away like you tried to last night?"
"About whether staying is fair to you." I force myself to meet his gaze. "Caterina is going to release everything. Your father is going to use it against you. And I'm going to lose my job, my reputation, everything. Why should you lose everything too?"
"Because I don't want to fucking lose you." He cages me against the blackboard. "And you left me waiting. All day. Wondering if you'd come home or if I'd have to hunt you down."
"Dante—"
"Do you have any idea what that does to me?" His lips are a breath from mine. "Knowing you're out here, ashamed. Trying to make decisions about us without me."
"I was trying to protect you?—"
He laughs and runs his hands through his hair and I glare at him.
"I don't need your protection, Bianca." His hand slides down to grip my hip. "What I need is for you to stop running. Stop hiding. Stop deciding what I can and can't handle."
"You should be furious with me. For not telling you and putting you in this position."
"I am furious." His other hand comes up to cup my jaw. "Furious that you carried this alone. Furious that you thought I'd judge you. Furious that you're standing here trying to leave me when all I want is to keep you."
The words break something inside me.
"I don't deserve?—"
"Shut up." He kisses me. Hard and claiming and full of everything we're not saying. When he pulls back, we're both breathing hard. "You made me wait all day. Made me wonder. Made me worry. And now you're going to pay for that."
Heat floods through me despite everything. "D-Dante, we're in my classroom?—"
Oh gods, I’m going to hell.
"I know where we are." He spins me around, pressing my front against the blackboard. "Hands up. Flat against the board."
I should protest. Should tell him this is insane. That we can't do this here.
Instead, I whimper and obey, biting down on my lower lip in sheer anticipation of what’s coming.
His hands slide up my thighs, pushing my skirt up. "Such a good girl when you want to be. When you're not running away and making fucking terrible decisions without me."
"I wasn't?—"
"Yes, you were." He pulls my hands behind my back. I hear the sound of his tie being loosened, feel silk wrap around my wrists. "You were going to leave, sacrifice yourself like some tragic heroine and leave me, without my say so.”
The tie tightens. Not painful, but secure. Inescapable.
"And that," he continues, his voice rough and growling against my ear, "deserves punishment, Bianca."
His hand cracks across my ass, sharp through the thin fabric of my skirt. I jump, a small yell leaving my lips as I press harder against the board.
"That's for avoiding me." Another slap, other side. "That's for thinking I'd let you go, for thinking I wouldn’t fucking hunt you straight to hell if I have to."
"D-Dante?—"
"And this—" He pushes my underwear aside, slides two fingers inside me. I'm already wet, already shaking with need. "This is for getting off on it. For liking when I'm rough. When I use you."
I bite my lip to keep from making a sound.
"Say it," he orders. "Tell me what you are."
