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I’m not sure what exactly her body is answering to, but I know she likes it. Be it me reading her smut or what the smut is about, she likes it.

My cockiest smile spreads on my lips.

Constance has either a knot kink or a “Louis” kink, and I can get behind either or both solutions.

At the risk of sounding like Eleanor, I think Constance was made for me.

She just doesn’t know it yet.

“Did you like what you heard, Constance?” I can’t help but ask. I know I’m toeing a line I shouldn’t, but I can feel it. She’s close to caving.

She doesn’t answer, and so I stand, walk to the side of her desk, and sit on the corner of it, facing her. Her eyes don’t leave me as I move.

Somehow, she knows she’s prey, and that one should never forget where the predator is in the room.

I cup the side of her face softly and tip it so she’s looking me in the eye.

“I didn’t hear your answer, Constance,” I say, meaning to sound berating, but reading for her as her scent turned deeper and deeper took a toll on me too, and I have to admit that my voice sounds rough instead.

“I didn’t answer,” she tells me in a breathless voice. She doesn’t seem to notice, though—otherwise she might have tried to hide it afterwards.

“And so, Miss Constance, did you like me reading for you?”

I know the answer. Her entire body gives me the answer—her scent, her dilated pupils, her heartbeat, the shape of her nipples stretching the top of her shirt that makes me wonder if my prim and proper teacher came to detention without wearing a bra.

She’s still not answering, though, and so I decide to push the line a bit further.

“Did you like hearing me read for you, or is it what I read that made you breathless?” I ask as I toy with her hair with the hand that’s not on her face.

I still keep my ears trained.

I refuse to let us get caught in a moment like this.

“Do you like my voice, or is it what I’m reading that you like? Is it smut in general or is it this particular kind of smut?” I ask slowly. I don’t want it to sound like I’m interrogating her. I want her to feel each of my questions. I want this to tease her almost as much as the spicy excerpt I just read for her, or the thumb that is caressing her cheek.

“Should I keep reading? Or should I read again?” I ask, and she gulps.

I take it that she really liked me reading for her.

I drop the strand of hair I’ve been playing with and remove my hand from her cheek. She lets out a whimper so low that I don’t think she realizes I can hear it.

Her mind seems to think I decided not to touch her anymore, and it doesn’t like it. Good.

That’s so far from what I have in mind, though.

I stand, pull her chair from under her desk, grab her by the waist and drop her on top of the desk before opening her legs and sliding between them. It makes her long skirt pool around her and ride up a bit when I get closer.

Only then do I cup her face again.

This time, though, my hand is closer to the middle of her face, and instead of caressing her cheek, the pad of my thumb strokes her bottom lip.

Fuck. I want those lips around my cock.

I bite my own lips, and Constance surprises me as her lips open slightly for me, and her tongue pokes out to lick the pad of my thumb.

I didn’t think I could get harder today, but that is exactly what happens.

I take a step closer. It brings me just a breath away from Constance.