Page 11 of Teach Me
His question sent a rush of heat to my core. ‘Yes.’
‘But that’s not all you want to be, is it?’ He swept his fingers across my cheek, then fisted my hair tight enough to sting my scalp. I gasped in surprise. ‘You’re looking for someone you can “blame” for not being a good girl. Someone willing to push your limits and reward you when you let go of your inhibitions.’
I choked on my objections. He was right; I wanted all of those things. I wantedhimmore than anything, but when I grabbed his shirt to pull him closer and finally kiss him, he caught my wrist in his free hand and pinned it to my lap.
He brought his mouth to my ear. ‘That’s a reward you have to work for.’ Taking my earlobe between his teeth, he tugged. Not painfully, but enough to harden my nipples and make me squirm with need. ‘Are you going to do as I say?’
‘Yes,’ I breathed.
‘Good.’ He kissed the hollow of my throat, then traced my racing pulse with his tongue. ‘If you willingly submit to me, I can teach you to enjoy almost anything, even acts you won’t admit to fantasising about. But I need your obedience and your trust. Do you trust me, Ophelia?’
‘Yes,’ I said without hesitation.
‘Do you want to please me?’
‘Y-yes.’
He twisted his hand, burning my scalp. ‘Then why are you withholding information?’
I winced. ‘Sorry!’
He released my wrist but maintained his tight grip on my hair with his other hand. ‘Don’t move,’ he ordered as his fingers worked on the fastening on my jeans.
‘The windows,’ I objected with a gasp.
‘Mhmm,’ he murmured, undoing the zip. ‘Anyone can see us. Does that excite you?’
‘N-no.’
Dr Braithwaite chuckled. ‘Yes, it does. I bet your nipples are hard right now.’
They were. Painfully so. Aching for his touch. I opened my mouth to deny it anyway, but lost my words when he slid his hand down my trousers and cupped my pussy.
‘And you’re so wet.’ He tutted softly. ‘Such a naughty girl. Do you want me to touch you? To make you come?’
The confirmation he sought got stuck in my throat. ‘Umm…’ I looked at his desk, the ceiling, the windows, anywhere to avoid his question.
He lazily stroked me through the fabric of my pants, but he didn’t push them aside, and that frustrated me enough to meet his gaze. He smirked. ‘Answer me, Ophelia.’
‘Yes,’ I whispered.
‘That’s not a convincing answer.’ He moved closer by forcing my legs apart, giving himself space to push my pants aside and find my clit. I drew a shuddering breath. ‘How long has it been since a man touched you?’ he asked, slowly stroking the swollen bud.
‘Umm…’ I licked my lips, lost for words. He was skilled in the art of torturous seduction, in making me lose myself to every sweep and teasing flick of his fingers. ‘Umm,’ I tried again. ‘A-a while.’
His fingertips shifted to circle my entrance with the same slow, teasing strokes. A barely there touch. A silent dare to acknowledge him and my desires. I grasped the armrests, not knowing what else to do with my hands. If I touched him, would he stop? I wanted to rock against his hand, to feel him enter me, but I didn’t dare move or make demands.
He flattened his palm over my sex. ‘What do you want, Ophelia?’
‘You,’ I whispered. ‘Please.’
The blue in his eyes darkened with lust. ‘How pretty you are when you beg.’
My cheeks warmed.
‘What do you want me to do?’
I squirmed beneath his hand as he resumed the small teasing circles, daring me to forget the floor-to-ceiling windows and the reality of what we were doing. If we were caught, I would undoubtedly be expelled. It would ruin his career and reputation.
