Page 46 of Degrees of Engagement

“Fuck, Bianca, is that how it is?” he says through a gasp.

“Yeah, and what are you gonna do about it?” She challenges him with another twist of her hips, feeling just how into this he is. Maybe it’s the adrenaline rush of passing his defense or maybe, just maybe, he wants this as much as she does . . . wants her as much as she wants him.

“You sure?” he asks, glancing around. Despite their relative privacy, they aretechnicallyin public and it’s sweet of him to check in, but she’s way too far gone to stop now. She’s been a student for most of her life, but she’s never, ever done anything like this before and the only person she wants to do it with is him.

“I’m sure,” she says, locking her eyes onto his so he knows she means it. Because even though it’s crossing that very blurry line she’s attempted to draw between them, she’s done denying herself, at least for now.

With one hand at her breast, his other moves up to the waist of her soft cotton skirt. “You wanna stop, you just say so,” he murmurs as he tugs gently at the material, giving her plenty of time to protest when he bunches it into his hands and pulls it slowly upwards. The back of his other hand brushes against the inside of her thigh and a wild shiver goes through her.

“Xavier,” she says, hating how desperate her voice sounds, but so turned on that she can’t muster up enough give a shit to be embarrassed. How is it this good? He’s barely touched her and she’s more worked up than she’s been . . . maybe ever.

“What do you want?”

“Your fingers.”

It’s incredibly annoying, how desperate he has her. She wanted to be the one giving. It’s not like she planned it, but in the split second between when he raised that eyebrow and whenshe was leaping into his arms, it was the only thing her mind conjured. Her on her knees, his dick a satisfying weight in her mouth, his hooded eyes looking down at her like she’s a fucking goddess.

Kind of like how he’s looking at her right now.

“Wanna touch you.”

“So touch me.”

His fingertips drift along the lace edge of her underwear, before dipping inside.

“Shit, boss, I get you like this?”

“You talk too much,” she protests, lifting her hips closer.

“Nah, I think you like it. I think the sound of my voice is enough to drive you fucking insane, B.”

But he doesn’t test the theory, and in seconds his fingers have her eyes slamming shut as he draws a high-pitched keening noise out of the back of her throat.

“C’mon, let go,” he urges her on, before latching his mouth to that spot on her neck, fingertips curling in and finding that perfect spot inside her. “Let go for me.”

And that fucker, he was right, his voice is the thing that sends her over the edge, her body shaking against his, white light exploding behind her eyes, his mouth pressed against her ear, whispering words she can barely understand, but then with another twist of his fingers, she’s gone again, the pleasure shooting through her body, so intense that teardrops stream from the corners of her eyes and her throat feels raw from chanting his name.

“More?” he asks softly.

“Can’t,” she manages to croak out. “Too much.”

“You sure?” he asks, his thumb stroking upward, and shock waves rock through her, but then she hisses at the contact and he pulls away instantly, almost stumbling back. “Sorry.”

“Don’t . . . don’t apologize for that. Jesus fucking Christ, Xavier.”

“Yeah?” he asks, sounding almost bashful, and when she finally opens her eyes, that’s how he looks, his head ducked down, a soft smile lifting one side of his mouth.

“C’mere,” she says, crooking a finger at him, and when he steps closer, she pulls him in by the tie, which is a way better look on him than should be allowed.

Sliding off the shelf, she backs him up into the one opposite. Dropping to her knees, he groans out something that sounds an awful lot like her name.

“You don’t have to,” he says, his hand falling to her hair as she’s reaching up with the band she keeps on her wrist to hold it back. She pulls it up into a loose bun and he groans again. She wants to let out a soft laugh. Does Xavier have a naughty librarian fantasy? She’ll have to remember to ask him later.

“I want to,” she says simply, reassuring him, but she doesn’t admit just how long she’s wanted to. Some things have to stay sacred, like how the very first time she saw him, slouched in a seat in the front row of their classroom, looking all the world like her every fantasy come to life, taking him apart with her mouth was exactly where her mind wandered.

“Fuck,” he says, throwing his head back against the wall as she reaches for his zipper. “Not gonna last ten seconds.”

He underestimated his own stamina, but not by much. She barely has time to enjoy the feel of him, hot and hard and completely at her mercy, despite her being the one down on her knees, before he’s pulsing into her mouth, her name falling from his lips in a gravelly moan that nearly sets her off again too.

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