“No better time than the present,” he said. The hand that wasn’t holding her neck down hitched her skirt up to her waist and unfastened his fly. With a snap, he tore her panties from her hips and tossed them into the garbage bin near her desk. The woman moaned.
“This is the last time,” Jason said through his teeth. “It’s over.”
She grinned over her shoulder. “It’s over when I decide it is.”
He entered her roughly, still fully dressed, his hand moving from her neck to her mouth as her moans became loud enough to be heard through the walls. This wasn’t lovemaking; it was sex—brutal, punishing sex that made Selene wish she could look away. Jason’s eyes were dead, his hips thrusting like a machine. After several torturous minutes, Ms. Matthews’s body twitched under him, the force of her orgasm evident in the contortion of her limbs.
Jason pulled out and came down the back of her legs.
Professor Matthews rocked on the desk, her hips rolling, but Jason backed away like the very sight of her disgusted him. He zipped his pants and picked up his backpack, staring at the door while she composed herself. She flashed him a wicked smile.
“A-plus,” she said, holding up the paper. “You’re a natural.”
Jason scowled, refusing to look at her. “Can I go?” Selene noticed a number of missed messages flashing across the screen of his phone, now cradled in his hand like a talisman against evil. They were from Silas. His brother had been trying to reach him.
Ms. Matthews gripped Jason’s lower jaw and forced him to look at her. “Such a pretty face. Don’t feel guilty about this, darling. We’re just two people taking solace from an unforgiving world in the safety of each other’s arms.”
“There’s only one person here whose grades are at stake.”
“Hey, you signed up for this. Do I need to remind you—”
“No. I remember.”
“Then, I’ll see you next… assignment.” Jason unlocked the door and let himself out.
The scene faded, and so did Selene. She came out of his memories, exhausted and feeling filthy. It took her a moment to reorient herself. She was perched on the table next to Jason’s kitchen, his awake but unresponsive body between her thighs. Promptly, she removed her hands from his chest to halt the ritual.
And watched him collapse on the floor near her feet.
Jason hitthe floor and rolled onto his back. Everything hurt as if Selene had reached down his throat, grabbed his intestines, and wrapped them around the bumper of a moving bus. He curled on his side and heaved. There was nothing inside him to come out. Truly nothing. He felt like an empty husk.
“Just lie still,” Selene said softly. “You’ll be all right. You just need rest.”
He couldn’t have responded if he’d wanted to. His body shivered uncontrollably, his teeth chattering, and every sweat gland in his body seemed to open at once. The front of his shirt quickly soaked through.
She pressed two fingers against his neck and frowned. “Let’s get you into bed.”
Hooking her hands under his armpits, she dragged him into the bedroom and lifted him onto the bed, a feat that wouldn’t have been possible had she not been a werewolf. His muscles were useless, twitching things. He couldn’t help her or fight her.
She unbuttoned his wet shirt and rolled him out of it. There was nothing sexual about the act. If anything, it was humiliating, although he was too tired to register that particular emotion. He blinked, and she was gone.
When he opened his eyes again, Selene was wringing a washcloth in a basin. She lifted one of his arms and scrubbed. She rinsed it out again. Jason closed his eyes.
He opened them again and he was in his pajamas. She was there, sitting by his bed, watching him. She’d changed her clothes. He closed his eyes again.
“Time to eat,” she said. She was holding him up, spooning soup into his mouth. She’d changed her clothes again. This time she looked worried. He glanced at his useless hands and noticed symbols painted on his palms. He was too weak to ask why they were there. He closed his eyes again.
She was rolling him over. He blinked and rubbed his face. He heard her exhale in relief. “Thank the goddess.” He closed his eyes again.
“Jason? Jason.” Selene’s short, natural nails shook his shoulder, just below his Fireborn tattoo.
“Haven’t you had enough, darling?” he asked, laughing to himself.
“Why is that funny? And don’t call me darling. It’s Selene.”
He rolled over and looked at her, his face falling. “What have you done to me?”
She hesitated. “Do you think you can make it to the bathtub? I’ve filled it for you and I’d like you to try to get up. You’ve been ill.”
