He watched me fall apart at the indecency, the thrill of doing something irrevocably filthy. “Oh, fuck, Isabella. That’s it.”
My nails dug into the leather cushion below me, and he pumped his fingers in me, his shoulders rocking. My head fell back against him, letting out loud moans matching the pleasure he’d had unleashed in me, unbothered by who might hear me.
I groaned as he prolonged the orgasm with his fingers pushing even deeper. He slowed, and stilled, before kissing my temple, and then pulled his fingers out. Lifting his hand from under my skirt, he pressed his fingers to his mouth, and then he licked them, watching me. “Your tongue tastes like candy, but your pussy tastes way better.” He leaned in and kissed me deeply. “I want it to be my cock inside you next time.”
Yes, please.
Jesus, who was this woman possessing my brain? I wanted his cock, too. Even after what he’d just given me, I wanted to climb onto his lap and take all of him inside. “Oh God.”
His face stiffened all of a sudden. I blinked, and he was no longer standing behind me, licking my cum. He was sitting before me, staring at me with that red glare again.
My eyes widened. “What the hell?”
A small smile eased his expression. “Are you all right, Professor? I think you broke your nail. Your finger is bleeding.”
My stare examined my thump, confirming what he’d just said. My head whipped up at him. “How did you get to this chair so fast? You were standing right behind me.”
He shook his head in confusion. “I was sitting here all the time, Professor. I was talking to you about colleague dating protocol, and you zoned out,” he pointed to my hand, “and broke your nail.”
What sick game was that? “No. You were standing behind me, and you were…”
“I was what?”
Did I imagine all that? Not possible. The scalding gushes hadn’t even cooled yet.
He was looking at me like I was a crazy person now. A case to analyze. Oh my God. What if I blacked out again, had a wet dream in front of my boss…that featured my boss?
No. No! It felt so real, so good to be a dream. Or was that too good to be true? “When you blackout, you do not dream. Something is wrong. Is this a trick?”
“Isabella, you don’t seem so well. Why don’t you go treat that nail and take the rest of the day off?” He was already on his feet, gesturing at the door. “Do you need me to show you where the infirmary is?”
“No. I can find it on my own.” I barely had the strength to stand without fainting. “Thank you, Professor.”
A devilish smirk found his lips. “Any time.”
CHAPTER 22
BELLE
I need to have sex.
I’d been denied real pleasure for years, only used to please a sick monster. Then this portal of hot, satisfying sex opened, and my body and mentality craved it so much they behaved sickly in its absence.
Add what had happened with Alec this morning to the equation, and I got a huge conflict between what I wanted to do and what I shouldn’t be doing, one I’d been suppressing for days. My subconscious was under too much pressure and needed a release.
The day dream.
What I’d experienced was a typical ID-Superego clash that resulted in a day dream not a blackout.
Cold water ran down my thumb in the staff bathroom as I psychoanalyzed what had happened between Damien and me. The dry blood under my nail was hard to remove. Maybe I should have let Joshua suck it.
I laughed at myself and headed back to my office—Joshua’s office we shared.
“Are you all right?” he asked the second I entered, his deep wince already on his face.
“Yeah.” I nodded reluctantly as I sat at my desk.
He took off his glasses and came over to me. “What happened with Pattison?” His eyes landed on my hand. “And your thumb?”
