It was meant to sound like a warning, and judging by the brief flicker of fear that returns to his eyes, that’s the way he takes it.
But I’ll make sure hedoesenjoy it.
Grabbing him by the front of his shirt, I step back and spin him around before shoving him backward. “Pants and underwear down. Lean over the desk. Ass out.”
His trembling hands go to the button of his jeans, but before he can undo them, I grasp his wrist and twist it just to the point of pain until he lets out a delicious cry.
“When I tell you to do something, I expect a response.”
With his face screwed up in a grimace, he nods. “Yes, Sir.”
“Good boy.” I release him and step behind him with my chest nearly touching his back. “Continue.”
“Yes, Sir.”
He really is a fast learner.
As he works at the front of his jeans, he trembles slightly. His chest heaves, his cheeks beautifully flushed.
I’ve silenced all those alarm bells going off in my head, pushed all those scolding voices warning me how bad of an idea this is into the furthest recesses of my mind where they’re barely more than whispered echoes. It’s been so long since I let myself have something like this. I’m so tired of punishing myself.
I peer over at the door. It’s not that I forgot if I locked it or not. I wouldn’t have let things get this far if I wasn’t sure. I just need the confirmation.
I’m weak, but I’m not careless.
But, when it comes to Jackson, I fear I may be doomed no matter how careful I am.
Maybe I am the bad guy after all.
My hands shake as Ifumble with the button of my jeans. They’re fucking useless as nerves wrack my body, but it’s not out of fear. Maybe it should be. I certainly was afraid when he was listing off all the possible ways he could have offed Dylan Ross. But then I realized he was fucking with me. Or, I hope he was, anyway.
While I have my doubts that the email wasactuallyfrom Dylan, I’m hoping that, at the very least, that means he’s not dead. That Professor Kendall didn’t really kill him.
Butsomethinghappened between them, that much is obvious. Maybe that makes me stupid for wanting this so badly.
Because, no, it’s not fear I feel now. It’s something I’ve never felt before.
A bone-deep, profound, and heatedwant.
Professor Kendall’s—Isaac’s? Sir’s?—hands come around my waist and push mine away so he can take over because I’m getting nowhere.
As he lowers my zipper, his warm breath at my ear makes me shiver. “Nervous?”
“I’ve never done this before,” I answer honestly, even my voice trembling.
“What?” I can hear the grin in his voice. “Been spanked?”
“Sure,” I mutter with a weak roll of my eyes.
I don’t believe for a second that’s all he has planned.
At least…I hope not.
He chuckles before placing a soft kiss behind my ear. “Use the word red if you want me to stop, sweetheart.”
I swear if his arms weren’t around me, I’d melt into a puddle on the floor.
If there was any doubt before that I’m actually bisexual, it’s certainly vanished now. That awareness only adds to how fucking turned on I am. I won’t pretend that I haven’t had fantasies about my professor’s hands on me, his lips on mine, the feel of his short beard against my face. I have. More than I care to admit.
