Tap.
Tap.
My fingers drum on the glass desk pad, anxiously waiting for her to storm through the door. Because that’s what she does, I’ve come to notice. Scarlett Dane simply doesn’t walk into a room. She commands it and owns every single person inside.
I’ve never met a woman who has that ability, let alone someone of her age.
Eighteen, I just confirmed.
With my fists in my hair, I slide the mouse on my pad. Lighting up the monitor, I stare at the image of her smiling face.
The school wouldn’t be too thrilled to find out I was using my instructor account to dig into the portal of students, but I couldn’t stop myself.
I was almost certain she was of legal age, but I needed to know without a doubt that the thoughts I have… the attraction turning me into a senseless animal, weren’t for someone under the age of consent.
It doesn’t erase the guilt, but it does alleviate it greatly.
Scrolling down, I dive deeper into her profile, growing fonder of the fair-skinned temptress.
A loud snick of my class door lock captures my attention.
Glancing toward the door, I watch Scarlett lean against the surface, her hair unpinned and falling in long waves to her narrow waist. Small tendrils sweep across her eyes, but those inky black curls are powerless against those smoking gems.
Those round hips sway as she strolls in my direction, drawing my gaze down to the crevice between her full thighs. I power through the fire, listening to the voices telling me to lie her across the student's desk and bury my face in her heat, licking her tender, quivering folds while she suffocates me with supple legs.
Breathing through the tightening in my chest and the erection growing in my slacks, I wait for her to stop opposite me before folding my hands over the glass plate and beginning with, “I owe you a thousand apologies for how I acted yesterday. It was inappropriate and a tremendous abuse of power as an educator.”
Breaking our connection, I stare at the image of my wife on our last anniversary and gulp, “I realize what I did to you was wrong, and if you decide to take my behavior to Principal Murphy, I completely understand. All I ask is that you inform me before you do so I can warn my wife.”
“That’s it?” she asks, face and tone void of emotion.
“No. That’s not it,” I say, rising from my seat so I can face her like a man and not a coward behind a desk. “I ask, also, for your forgiveness for any damage or pain I’ve caused you.”
A foot below me, I scan her wavering eyes for insight into what she’s thinking, but I’m at a loss. Her blank stare is too guarded, and nothing about her pillowy lips gives anything away. I’m left guessing. That is, until I feel her nails scrape against the muscles pulsing in my forearm.
“I’ll accept your apology on one condition.”
“And what’s that?” I ask, feeling her breath puff against my chest as she takes a step closer.
She licks her lips, pulling the bottom one in with her teeth before whispering, “Kiss me and tell me you feel nothing.”
Scarlett
His stare holds a million emotions, but none quite as strong as longing.
“I don’t need your apologies, Mr. Ellis, nor do I want them. What I want is for you to take me as you did before and tell me you feel nothing.”
I feel invincible until I see the resolution in his eyes. That icy glare sinks my stomach into my toes. He doesn’t move, not until I stumble back on shaky heels. His hand takes mine, gripping it between strong fingers. The gleaming gold of his wedding band shines under the bright classroom lights. I hadn’t noticed it until now. Does that make me a bad person? Wanting a married man.
Fiercely, Mr. Ellis slides his palm up the back of my neck, taking a handful of hair at the roots while the other wraps around my throat. His thumb plays with my pulse, rubbing delicate circles around its throbbing before whispering, “How am I supposed to do that?”
His kiss is just as passionate as before, singeing my lips while his tongue sets off an inferno in my mouth. It’s no longer a battle for dominance but a surrender while we fall deeper into each other’s embrace.
Staggering back, we collide with the board, sending markers scattering down to the floor while my hands frantically explore his vibrating body.
As our mouths become more aggressive, he drops his hand from my neck and glides it down my side, rolling over my curves until he reaches my thigh.
Mr. Ellis hikes my knee around his hip, pinning me against the wall as he grinds his stiff cock against my dripping core. My groan flows into his ear when he peppers nibbling kisses along my bruises. It elicits a pain so pleasurable I feel myself ready to fall over the edge.
