Page 59 of Dean's Delinquent

“Anything else?”

A snort of frustration drifts from her lips as she turns to me. “I thought you were going to fuck me. Can’t you just bring me there and do it already?”

Despite the niggle of irritation at her instance, I can’t help but fall even more under her spell. She’s so unafraid of me, and I find that refreshing and entrancing.

“Am I not the dean of Loftry University? Make no mistake, Miss Hartwell, I was an educator first. If it is my prerogative to wax poetic in the hopes of teaching you a lesson, then you will endure it, thank me, and ask for more.”

Her nose scrunches up in that adorable way that has me both wanting to kiss the pert tip and swat her backside all in one frame of thought. Hopefully she’ll come to the conclusion sooner rather than later because all I want to do is bury my cock within the confines of her sweet, slick pussy currently caged behind that damp bit of fabric.

Hands on her hips, she turns around and really studies the wall. Granted, it’s not her fault she can’t figure it out right away. It’s created that way by design. Just like being a submissive to The Society, everything is crafted to keep her discombobulated and unsteady.

Thankfully, she doesn’t give up like I’ve seen other submissives do. Many of them, when confronted by the enormity of the maze, broke down and had to be carried out. A rare few have ever made it to the center. The fact that she’s so close, even with help, is astounding. I can’t let her falter now. Not when she’s come so far.

“It’s an illusion,” she murmurs under her breath as she slides her fingers through the leaves. “These feel different. They’re not the same as the ones growing on the other walls. Those, I’m pretty sure, are real. These feel fake.”

“Very good. What else?” My balls clench as she fingers the leaves, trailing the delicate tips over the points and dips as if memorizing the curves of a lover.

“Air. I feel a gust.”

Her body quivers as she shifts over, as if excitement finally creeps back into her. This is what I want. This is what I crave. It’s partly been her questing knowledge and thirst for cerebral stimulation that first drew me to her. She’s someone who can be my equal as she grows older.

I know I’m at least double her age, but the gaps certainly seem smaller when I can actually hold a conversation with her that’s not peppered with petulant “whys” or idiotic musings. Her only failing is that my minx can be a little too curious. A little too bold with her mind.

My own excitement grows as she follows the wall over to the edge and slides her fingers around. “Oh!” she cries out, turning to give me a self-congratulatory smile. “Oh, I see what you did! Oh, I love this!”

Gone is the despondency that seemed to cocoon her when I approached. There’s no trace of it anywhere. Instead, she’s vibrant, quivering even, as she goes around the wall.

It seems as if her adrenaline wards off the cold once more as she goes to the next barrier. She’s all smiles and soft, wonder-filled laughs as she goes to the next wall and so on. It takes far more time than it would for me to traverse this path by myself, but I don’t rush her.

This time is about her and exploration. I’ll have time enough for mine. Shuffling closer, I keep her within an arm’s reach from me. It’s not that I fear for her safety. Not when the best men I know stand poised to guard and listen out for danger. It’s more a need to be close to her, to know she’s real at any given moment.

Eventually, we go out into the clearing. A large fountain bubbles up from the center, surrounded by delicate snowdrops blooming around it. For a moment, she just stands there, her mouth hanging open as her jaw goes slack.

“Do you like my little paradise?” I murmur against her ear as I draw her body into the shelter of my arms once more.

As if on instinct, she snuggles back against me as a happy hum drifts from her lips. “I never knew something this pretty could be on campus. If I knew this was here, I would be visiting every day to do my homework and writing.”

A stab of panic cramps my insides as I curl my fingers into her shoulders. “You’re not coming back here. Tonight is a onetime thing. Don’t make the mistake that me wanting to fuck you will edge out the even greater need to discipline your naughty backside.”

“Oh,” she fairly hums. “I was expecting it. You do have such a heavy hand.”

My lips pull down into a fierce frown as I whirl her around to face me. “You just don’t get it.” With a jerk of my hand, I tear my mask off and toss it to the ground. “What you did tonight was fucking dangerous.”

For a moment, I think she might actually have some sense in that thick skull of hers, but instead, she crosses her arms and furrows her brows at me. “I watched a bunch of horny men jerk off onto a girl. Oooh. So scary.”

“You really aren’t afraid. Are you?”

“Of course not. I’ve seen worse in porn.”

“No. That’s not what I mean. You aren’t afraid of getting in over your head. Of making a mistake that can cost you everything. Nor of me. You aren’t at all worried about what I intend to do to you.”

A bit of pink washes over her cheeks as she ducks her head. “I mean, your cane sucks, but I think I can handle it now.”

“Oh. You do? You really think you do? You actually think that little bit of foreplay in my office is anything like what I can actually do to you?”

“Y- yes?”

Dragging my phone out of a hidden pocket in my robe, I speak into it. “You’re going to hear a lot of noise. I’m fine. She’s fine. Everything is fine. Doctor Andrew. My tools if you’d be so kind. We’re at the center.”

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