“I needed space.”
“So did I.” He pushed off the door and started toward me, slow and deliberate.
I stepped back without meaning to, boots scuffing the floor. My spine hit the edge of a desk, and I realized too late he’d maneuvered me there—no hands, just his considerable presence.
He didn’t stop coming until he was close. Too close. One hand braced against the chalkboard behind me, the other planted on the desk beside my hip. I was boxed in before I could think of an exit.
“Zane,” I warned.
“Reverie,” he countered, voice low and steady. “Why do you always say my name like it’s a threat?”
“Because you’re always causing trouble.”
He leaned in, not touching me, but close enough that the heat of him slid over my skin like a dare. His scent—cedar, sweat, leather—filled the air between us.
“And what if,” he murmured, “I like the way you threaten me?”
My pulse quickened. The moonlight outlined his jaw in silver and highlighted the spark in his eyes. I could feel the desk pressing into the backs of my thighs. My hands clenched against the wood, nails digging into the surface.
“You should move,” I whispered.
“Should I?” He tilted his head, just enough that his breath brushed my cheek. “Or do you just want me to?”
I lifted my chin, defiant. “You’re in the way.”
His smile was slow, dangerous. “Exactly where I want to be.”
Then he closed the distance.
It wasn’t rushed. It was inevitable. One sure step, and suddenly his chest pressed against mine, heat radiating through our clothes. His hand slid from the chalkboard to the desk, caging me in completely. My breath caught, and so did his—just for a heartbeat.
“Zane…” I started, but it came out softer than I intended.
“Yeah,” he whispered, and then his mouth was on mine.
The kiss hit like a spark to kindling—sharp, hungry, alive. His hand found the small of my back, pulling me in like hecouldn’t stand even an inch between us. My fingers tangled in his shirt, brushing warm skin beneath the loose collar.
The desk creaked under our weight as I tilted my head and deepened the kiss, the clash of tongue and teeth just this side of painful. Somewhere, dimly, I knew this was reckless; a classroom after curfew, a door that wasn’t locked. But Zane kissed like consequences didn’t exist—almost like he had an animal inside.
His hand slid up my spine, sending shivers racing across my skin. I arched into him before I could stop myself. When we finally broke apart, both of us were breathing hard, foreheads resting together in the thin strip of moonlight.
“Still think I should move?” He murmured, his voice rough.
I swallowed, pulse hammering. “Ask me again later.”
“Lean back and let me taste you.” Demand strong in his voice, not waiting for my consent as he slowly slid my skirt up to my waist, revealing the sheer black panties I was wearing.
I moaned as he worked them down my legs, then put them in his pocket. “I’ll be keeping these. I’ve decided to start a collection.”
I couldn’t speak as I felt his warm breath on my belly—he licked and kissed his way down to my clit, sucking it into his mouth abruptly. “Fuck.” I breathed, sitting halfway up to watch what he was doing.
He tilted his head sideways as he nipped gently down my slit and gave me a cocky wink right before he plunged two fingers into my pussy, pumping in and out, then began licking my clit with the flat of his tongue.
I felt my orgasm build, and when his fingers repeatedly hit the small bundle of nerves deep inside, I stiffened. “Zane!” I came with his name on my lips, the pleasure so intense it bordered on pain.
He kissed his way up my body, his lips glistening with the evidence of my bliss. “Do you hear that?” Zane whispered in my ear.
“Hear what?” I couldn’t concentrate on anything other than the aftershocks of pleasure coursing through my system.
