Page 52

It’s Saturday morning, and I both hate and love at the same time that it’s the last time in my classroom. I know what is going to happen. We both do.

I just would have preferred to sleep in this morning and have the fun Louis has planned for us in my bed.

Not his.

He kept his tiny apartment in Paris, but we’re never there. He’s never bothered with making it a home and treats it accordingly. I’ve been to the pack house a few times now, but he’s never completely mine there, and wolves are not really the best at personal boundaries. Contact is a way of expressing themselves, and I’ve realized in the months I’ve been dating Louis—I relented, and we’re calling it that even if, so far, no date happened in Paris—how much he controlled himself during classes and all the time during the first two months.

He passes behind me to grab his shirt in the drawer I freed for him, and his hand trails against the small of my back.

To everyone who doesn’t know him, it could look like nothing, but that’s just what Louis does. Small touches here and there. As if after five minutes without touching me, he’s already missing me.

And sometimes, I think that might be what he really feels, and looking at me without touching me in class must be torture to him.

At least the year is over.

“I’m sure you’ll still find a way to come and see me at school,” I tell him with a knowing smile.

He won’t be back for year two. It was never really his choice to attend my class, so I’m not surprised. He has responsibilities with his pack, and I still don’t really get why he was forced to attend school.

I’m not mad about it, though.

“Get ready. We need to go,” he tells me as he slaps my butt on the way out of the room.

I’ve been lost in my thoughts, and he managed to get fully ready in the meantime.

By the time I’m out of the room, he has my coffee ready, and a pastry that he must have gotten delivered while I was in the bedroom.

He licks his fingers as he finishes his own, and then opens the door for us to go before kissing my temple.

The walk to school is spent with me snuggling against Louis, and maybe I shouldn’t—he’s still my student until noon today and someone could see us—but I find that I don’t care.

I should be more careful when we get inside the school, but, again, I don’t care.

Not because I don’t care about my job, but because I’ve learned this year that the dean might look up the logs for the lock of my classroom, but he’s never set foot on school grounds on a weekend day.

It’s not about to change.

I haven’t even closed the door to my classroom when Louis already has me against the wall, kissing me wildly.

“Not even patient enough to wait for the desk today?” I ask him with a chuckle when his lips finally leave mine.

“We’ll get there,” he answers as he slips his thigh between mine and pushes until I can feel him against my pussy.

His lips are back on my skin, but this time they trail on the side of my throat, peppering open-mouthed kisses.

I love those. Louis knows that. He also knows they go straight to my core, and like always when he does that, I feel myself getting wetter.

It doesn’t help that he’s slowly moving his thigh between mine, and it rubs against my clit in the sweetest way.

“You look so beautiful when you’re hot for me, Miss Jardin,” Louis says against the shell of my ear, and I want to laugh at the fact that for the first time since he walked in my classroom, he actually addresses me the way I asked my students to do.

But then, he nibbles the side of my throat, and my brain short-circuits.

His thigh moves faster, and I realize that my hips have been doing the same as my pleasure is building.

And just like that, I’m coming against his thigh.

“I love it when you come so fast for me,” Louis says with a devilish smirk.