“You understood my texts.”
“I did, Professor.”
“Repeat them back to me,” Connor instructed.
Jules held his gaze. “Your terms. Non-negotiable. I do as you say, or I leave.”
“And you agree to this?”
“Yes, I do.”
“Why? You have no idea what I’ll be requiring.”
The question caught Jules off guard. He’d expected Connor to take the reins immediately. To issue commands with the same cold authority he brought to his classroom. Instead, he was standing there, barefoot in his own home, asking Jules to explain his submission.
Jules knew he had to give him the truth. The whole, uncut version that likely wouldn’t make sense.
“Because I trust you. Because I know you ultimately don’t want to hurt me.”
Emotions waged war behind Connor’s expression. The wordtrusthad hit something deep. Jules wondered just what there was beneath the veneer it appeared the other man still had some hold on.
“You don’t know me well enough to trust me,” Connor argued.
“I know you well enough to be standing in your living room at eight on a Saturday night, ready to do whatever you tell me. If that’s not trust, it’s something close enough that the difference doesn’t matter. Besides, what you think you know about me and what you actually know are very different.”
Connor’s jaw worked. He crossed the distance between them in three steps, stopping close enough that Jules could feel the heat of him.
“If you want to stop,” Connor said quietly, “you say the word red and everything stops. Immediately. No questions.”
“Understood.”
“Say it back.”
“Red. Everything stops. No questions.”
Connor giving him a safeword told Jules more than every conversation they’d had combined. This wasn’t a man taking advantage of a power dynamic he hadn’t asked for. This was a man who understood power, respected it, and refused to wield it without a failsafe. It made Jules want him so badly his teeth ached.
Connor’s hand came up. His fingers traced along Jules’s jaw as if learning the shape of it. “On your knees,” he growled.
Jules dropped in an instant. There was not an ounce of him that wanted to pause. His knees hit the hardwood and the ache of it felt earned.
From this angle, Connor was enormous. Not just physically—though the man’s frame was significant—but in presence. He filled all of Jules’s vision from there. His hand settled on the top of Jules’s head, fingers threading through his hair, gripping enough to show exactly who was in charge.
“Look at me.”
Jules turned his gaze away from examining his sexy professor’s body to meet the other man’s eyes. Connor’s breathcaught at the connection. It was very subtle, but there was no way to miss it from his angle.
“I haven’t wanted anyone like this. I haven’t wanted a man at all. This isn’t—” Connor’s grip tightened in Jules’s hair. “This isn’t something I know how to navigate.”
Jules turned his head slightly, pressing his cheek into Connor’s palm. “Then don’t. Just let it happen. Use me how you want. I’m all yours, Connor.”
The sound Connor made was barely audible. Half exhale, half surrender.
Jules took it as permission to continue. He reached for Connor’s belt, eager to reveal what was beneath.
Connor’s hand stilled in his hair but didn’t stop him. Jules worked the buckle, pulled the leather free, and undid the button with fingers that were remarkably steady considering his heartbeat was doing double time. The zipper came down allowing Jules to hook his fingers into the waistband and pulled the slacks and boxers down together.
He’d imagined this too. Of course he had. He’d imagined it in the shower, in his bed at 2 a.m., in the middle of Connor’s lecture while dozens of other students took notes around him. His imagination had been generous in the fantasy.
