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He’s hard beneath me. Every time my tutor rocks our hips together, I ride the buried length of him, my belly twisting in response. Hedoeswant this. So what are we waiting for?
Lightning flashes outside, quickly followed by the rumble of thunder. The storm is closer now, wind howling and tossing handfuls of rain at our cracked window, but this dorm could fly up into the sky Wizard of Oz-style right now and I wouldn’t care.
“I want you.”
Ambrose grunts at my breathless words, then captures my mouth in a fierce kiss. But when I fumble at his belt again, he plucks my hands away, caging my wrists.
“Not tonight.”
Um.What?“Why not?”
A warning frown. “Because I said so. Now do you want me to lick your pussy or not?”
Competing instincts war inside me: one big part of me wants to shove off stupid Ambrose Brent’s stupid lap and tell him where to shove his stupid, bossy offer. I can’t believe he’s turned me downagain.So humiliating.
But the rest of me wants to drape myself on the bed and open my legs andbegfor his mouth down there, because I desperately need to come, and only this man in the whole world can scratch my itch.
Ambrose scowls at me while I war with myself, one eyebrow raised.
Ugh. Tutors are the worst.
“Fine!” I hop off his lap with terrible grace, splitting the difference between my two instincts: going along with the pussy-licking idea, but with the worst possible attitude. “If you’re not too high and mighty for this part, sure. Knock yourself out.”
Ambrose barks a surprised laugh. “Lane…”
My shorts and underwear puddle around my ankles, cutting him off with the sight of my bare body. I dressed in such a hurry after the shower, barely threw on any clothes at all, and the only scrap I’m wearing now is my baggy white t-shirt. I shrug that off too and fling it at the wall.
Ambrose should at least see what he’s missing. Jerk.
Oh god, why doesn’t he want me that way? What did I do wrong?
Buck-ass naked, with my pride hanging by the thinnest of threads, I raise my chin and meet my tutor’s eye. “Well? Any notes yet?”
His mouth actually twitches. He finds this funny! I’m gonna kill him. “We could use an attitude adjustment, maybe. But then, some men like brats.”
Just like that Ambrose’s humor fades—like he hates the mention of other men as much as I do. It sours something inside me; makes me want to cover up with a sheet. Because who cares what other men like? I want to pleasethisman, and only this man, for as long as we both shall live.
My heart shrivels in my chest. I’m so screwed.
“Sit on the edge of the bed.” Ambrose’s voice is gravelly again, like he swallowed a bunch of sharp rocks. “Lie back, Lane. Spread your thighs.”
Lips pressed tight together, I do as he says. The mattress plunks beneath my weight, and the bed sheets are soft against my back.
Ambrose slides off the chair to kneel by the bed, his heated gaze fixed between my legs. I’m so desperate for his touch that I can’t breathe, and my stomach muscles are so taut they tremble.
Strong, warm palms cup my knees and nudge me wider. The wind howls outside the window, a small branch crashing against the windowpane before flying away.
“Please.” Guess the brat has left the building. All that’s left for me to do is beg shamelessly, fingers twisting in the bed covers, staring wide-eyed at my tutor between my legs. I’m propped on my elbows, afraid to blink in case he disappears. “Please, I’m sorry about just now. Please kiss me down there. Please don’t change your mind.”
The smile Ambrose gives me is achingly soft. It cracks something open deep inside me.
“As if I could. Relax, Lane.”
Relax.Yeah, sure, I can do that. No worries.
I mean, I’ve never had another human being inspect my lady parts before, but totally. I’m cool. At least I showered, right? Ahahaha.
“Christ,” Ambrose mutters, glaring between my thighs, and I tense up even more with a squeak.
