Then, I watch in dazed, breathless silence as he brings his fingers to his lips, eyes locked on mine, and sucks the taste of me from his fingers. Then, he drags two fingers over my cheek, a little of his saliva and my release smearing on my skin.
My face burns with humiliation, arousal, and something I can’t quite name.
“You’re mine, Olivia,” he whispers in my ear, just as the lights flicker back on, casting the lecture hall back in harsh fluorescent clarity.
My heart is still slamming against my ribs, but Nathaniel simply leans back in his seat, picks up his pen, and flips open his notebook like he’s been taking notes the whole time. As if he didn’t just ruin me in the middle of a lecture hall to make a point.
The revelation slams into me like a wrecking ball.
Nathaniel just used my body to punish me. For Landon. For Adam. For any man who would dare steal my attention from him. The thought sparks a flicker of resentment within me,because he knows exactly what he’s doing and just how much power he holds in moments like this.
I set my jaw, blinking rapidly to clear my thoughts and regain my bearings while Nathaniel remains the picture of perfect, effortless composure.
SEVEN
nathaniel
I spendthe rest of class watching Olivia, certain there’s nothing De Vries can say that’s more interesting than my girl. She’s the only lesson I care to learn.
She sits perfectly composed beside me—legs crossed, pen in hand, not a hair out of place—every inch the model student. But I know better.
She looks thoroughly debauched despite her pristine exterior, and I drink her in shamelessly.
The glassiness in her gaze, the telltale flush creeping up to her throat, the way she presses her thighs together, trying to suppress the memory of my fingers between them. My cock stirs at the thought, but I force it down. I’m not done with her, not by a long shot—but there will be time for that later.
For now, I relish the fact that I’ve made her come—desperately, beautifully, forme—in a lecture hall full of people who will never know what I took from her.
She doesn’t look over at me once, but I don’t mind. Her reticence reads like surrender to me, like she now understands that no one can touch her the way I do, that even her body recognizes who it belongs to.
I settle deeper into my chair, letting my eyes trace the delicate slope of her profile. The way her auburn hair brushes her jaw. The tremble in her hand as she caps her pen. The lecture fades into a meaningless buzz. The professor’s voice may as well be static. Let her drone on about crisis response and stakeholder management. I have plans to make.
I will bring Olivia back to the penthouse. Run her a bath, feed her something warm. Kiss every part of her that didn’t get my attention this morning. She’ll fall asleep in my arms, blissfully content, and forget that her dorm even exists. She won’t ask for space again, not after today.
But then I blink, and the screen has gone black. Professor De Vries is dismissing the class, reminding everyone of some reading assignment I haven’t heard a word of.
I turn to Olivia to offer to carry her things, only to find that she’s already standing. Her bag is slung over her shoulder, and I reach instinctively for the strap.
She jerks it out of reach.
Before I can even process the reaction, she turns and walks briskly down the aisle, not even sparing me a backward glance. No words. No parting smile. Just…gone.
I sit there, momentarily stunned, watching the back of her head disappear into the sea of students filing toward the exit. Maybe she’s flustered. Embarrassed. The pleasure was intense, maybe too much for her in a public setting. I can fix that. I’ll catch up to her, take her hand, reassure her.
I rise and follow, cutting through the stream of students.
I push through the doors and scan the courtyard—no Olivia. My jaw tightens, but I don’t panic.Yet.
A flash of her red hair catches my eye and I spot her down the path, already halfway to the main academic building. Her stride is brisk, determined.
“Olivia!”
She doesn’t stop, or even look back.
I quicken my pace, weaving through stragglers. “Baby, wait.”
Still, nothing.
I reach her just as she turns a corner. My hand catches her elbow—gently, but firm enough to stop her.
