Page 94 of Give In

My eyes widened and his narrowed.

“What were you just thinking?” He studied me intently, as though I held all the answers to the universe. His question was more than curiosity. He wanted to dig into the far corners of my mind and learn my each and every thought, even the ones I didn’t want to face.

Especially those.

At my hesitation, he inched his hand away.

A threat.

A warning.

A promise.

“I don’t want gentle,” I admitted before shakily adding, “Professor Caine.”

His groan was enough of a reward, seeming to skim across my skin like the deep bass sound waves were corporal, but he gave me more. His middle finger stroked me, grinding the bumped seam of my leggings into my clit. “Wrap your hand back around me, angel.”

I fisted his hardness, loving the way it jerked.

“Harder,” he grunted before taking my mouth in another searing, untamable kiss.

The tighter I squeezed, the harder he stroked me. I worried I was hurting him, but he only spurred me on, rocking his hips.

I didn’t stroke him.

He fucked my hand.

Used it.

Used me.

And we both were getting off on it.

I was close. Barely breathing. Unable to grasp a full thought though they raced in my muddled mind.

And then it all stopped.

Came—or not, in my case—to a screeching halt.

The orgasm that’d been swirling, twisting me higher and higher, was snatched away just as it approached the breaking point.

All that built-up power ricocheted back through my body, leaving me shaking.

“Noooo,” I cried, latching my legs around him before I thought better of it. I braced for the punishment, but not in fear.

In anticipation.

Likely knowing a light tap would be enough to push me over the edge, Damien didn’t give it to me. He tugged my hair, arching my neck to near painful levels. My breath caught as I waited for his hard kiss, but he didn’t give me that, either. His fingers left my hair, and he easily broke free of my hold. He tucked his erection back into his boxers at an angle that must’ve been painful before fastening his slacks and belt. Putting some distance between us, he grasped the lock on his door but didn’t turn it.

He’s hesitating.

“You have class starting soon,” he said, though the huskiness in his tone belied his dismissive words.

“No.”

His brow arched. “As you’ve pointed out, my stalking skills are well-established. I know your schedule better than you do.” He glanced at his watch, the simple action giving me hand and forearm muscle porn. “And you have a class starting in less than fifteen minutes.”

I shook my head, the short jerks almost frantic. “No, I mean, I’m not leaving until I come.” As if to prove my stubbornness, I put my hands on my hips.

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