Choose the danger and the darkness and the brutal aliveness I experience in his presence.
Slowly, deliberately, I sink to my knees between his parted thighs. I’m going to start evening the score.
He watches, radiating with approval and need. When I reach for his belt, his abs tense beneath my touch.
I’ve never wanted to please someone the way I want to please him. Not out of obligation or fear, but because for the first time,I’m making a choice that’s entirely my own. Not dictated by trauma or a desire for safety or what a good teacher should do.
I’m choosing the danger. The mistake. This man.
And as I gaze up at him from my knees, I realize I’ve never felt more powerful.
Chapter 14
Kolya
She kneels between my legs, eyes wide and wanting, a flush spreading across her cheeks and down her throat.
Curiosity rather than submission. Desire and need that match my own.
She doesn’t understand what being submissive means. Not yet.
Her fingers tremble against my belt, hesitant but determined.
Since I first laid eyes on her, I’ve pictured this in my mind a hundred times.
Her at my feet, with her sweet face tilted up. All that bright energy focused solely on me.
Those fantasies pale in comparison to reality.
In my imagination, she was damaged and compliant, a toy to use and discard.
The woman in front of me is anything but broken.
She’s choosing this, which is infinitely more desirable. The fact that this innocent, guileless, sunshine incarnate teacherwantsto pleasure me turns my dick harder than a rock.
My fingers twitch against my thigh. I want to reward her with my touch, because I need this so damn much and she’s just giving it to me.
Her nimble fingers work the leather of my belt, tongue darting out to wet her lips in concentration. There’s something obscene about her soft hands on my body. Hands that cut construction paper and wipe away children’s tears inch toward my cock.
The juxtaposition tightens my chest.
This is just work. Getting close to her, gaining her trust, finding those diamonds.
Except work doesn’t explain the heat raging through my veins like wildfire, or why I’m more aroused than I’ve ever been. The job doesn’t explain why her eager, nervous panting accelerates my pulse.
I’m losing control. Again.
That can’t happen.
I thread my hand through her hair and grip the nape of her neck.
To anchor. To own.
To remind us both who’s in charge.
Her pupils blow wide with lust, and her surprised gasp shoots another jolt of heat straight to my groin. “Let me?”
My other hand moves to my pants, methodically working the button, then the zipper while I hold her head still.
