AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Connor knew he had gone too far. Before he could decide how to fix the situation an older man with thinning blonde hair and an absent manner walked into her office, “Sandra—I need to ask…” he stopped, his pale eyes blinking myopically at Connor.
Was this her boyfriend, Connor thought. He was twice her age. Connor excused himself, closing the door on his way out but not before he heard her say, “What is it Father?”
He doubted the man was a priest so as soon as he got into his own office he booted up his computer and hunted through the faculty files. An hour later he sat back in the uncomfortable chair, his eyes gleaming with speculation and a plan brewing in his mind.
He had already given up fighting the urge to take her, he knew he wanted to and while he was a man who exercised great self -control he was also a man who went after what he wanted with abundant gusto.
Professor Sandra Eckhart needed some excitement in her life, and he wanted to be the man to give it to her.
**
Of course that was easier said than done, Connor found out as he spent the next month trying to find ways to interest or entice her. She refused dinners, drinks, invitations to book outings and everything else.
He sent her flowers and she snipped the heads off and sent them back. He had stared at the dismembered things with a laugh rumbling up in his belly. Every time he saw laid eyes on her his cock went hard and his mind wandered to all sorts of ways he’d like to ravish her, and to master her as well. He could picture her on her knees, a lovely length of chain around her neck and silver cuffs on her wrists and ankles, or draped in silk ropes, tied to his bed with her body opened to his own.
With every rebuff he grew more determined to have her. She was obviously not about to forgive his desertion at the conference and he did not blame her, he had behaved like an asshole—and a coward. His attraction to her had been one thing, the deep seated need to have more of her had frightened him and he was man enough to admit that. The issue at hand was how to prove to her that he was sorry.
Or how to turn her on so much she could not resist.
Once that idea hit home he wondered why he had not thought of it sooner. Sandra was hiding a passionate, fiery nature below that placid surface of hers and he had seen it firsthand. Knowing that he had overlooked that solution made him wonder if he were slipping, then he began to plan.
Sandra entered her office, fully intending to do nothing more than deal with the appointment that was on her books for the afternoon and then head home. Her day had been long and very stressful, and she was tired and irritated.
The student that had made the appointment had insisted that their schedule would not permit an earlier meeting so the offices around hers lay dark and shuttered for the night, and the hallways were dim, musty smelling and deserted.
She turned on the lights and her eyes widened in shock. Connor sat in the chair behind her desk, his handsome face wearing a stern expression. On the desk in front of him lay a long jumble of red silk rope, a pair of scarlet stiletto heels and a plaid schoolgirl’s skirt. She stared at those items, unsure of just what was happening but unable to stop the curl of lust that began in her belly despite her confusion.
The skirt caught her eye again—its cheerful plaid somehow so appealing despite his obvious intentions for it. Intentions that should have felt wrong, but did not—not at all.
“I have an appointment,” she said in a dry croak of a voice.
“I am your appointment.”
Desire Book 2: Love’s Disciplines
“You have got to be kidding,” Sandra said flatly but deep down, she honestly hoped that Connor was not. Her eyes shot back to the rope, to the shoes and skirt as Connor tapped a finger against the scarred surface of his desk, a grin that said he was not only not kidding but that he fully expected her to drop her clothes, don that outlandish get up and say thank you to him while doing it lighting his face.
Don’t be ridiculous, he certainly does not expect that at all.
“I am not kidding.”
Her mouth went dry. Her fingers twitched toward the buttons on her blouse then stilled as she realized what she was doing. “Why would I do that?”
“Because you want me to.”
The bluntness of his words made her already damp panties even wetter. They stuck to her labia, the oils dripping form her tangling into her dark brown pubic fleece. “No I do not.”
“Then walk out.”
She could not do that, though she knew damn well that she should. She wanted to, her dignity and pride demanded it but her body demanded that she stay. That did not mean that she could just strip for him though.
“This is my office. You walk out.”
“I am not going anywhere.”
“I could call security.”
“You could,” he conceded.
