Page 19

He presses his teeth into his full bottom lip, tipping his head back to look up to the ceiling as if asking a higher power for more patience than he’s capable of.

“Strip out of that skirt and lie back, Dr. Ravenna,” he instructs, standing up to give me room to lift my hips and slide the fabric down my thighs, tossing it wherever it lands. I sit up and unclasp my bra, allowing that to join the pile of fabric and slip my fingers beneath the waistband of my panty hose but he quirks a brow at me and my fingers still. “Did I say you could take those off?”

I swallow thickly, clenching my thighs together at the warning in his brusque baritone. “No, sir.”

“Sir?”

“No, Professor.”

He chuckles darkly, shaking his head with a wry smirk. “Have I ever told you that you’re my favorite student?”

“It was implied,” I inform him, biting my lower lip.

“That it was,” he agrees with a nod. Painfully slow, he undoes the buttons of his shirt, rolls up his sleeves to show off the dark lines of the beautiful tattoos littering his skin, veins bulging against the skin of his thick, corded forearms. He wiggles his fingers as if stretching them out, preparing for whatever plans he has next, and the sinewy muscles ripple with the movement, my panties growing wetter in an instant.

The sound of his belt buckle coming undone only heightens my arousal as I watch him begin to undress, allowing the belt to fall open, but he makes no effort to pull it from the loops before moving on to the top button and then to his zipper. My mouth waters, tongue darting out to wet my lips as he releases himself, his length already erect and dripping in precum that I’d give just about anything to lick off.

The sight of him clothed and undone, shirt open wide, palming his dick in his hand—it’s almost as glorious as seeing him naked, and I have no objections to whatever he has planned.

He crawls over me, sliding his warm palms down my waist and over my hips, trailing the tips of his fingers over my center. Swiping his forefinger over the seam of my nylons, pleasure coils in the base of my spine as my breaths become ragged.

“Are you going to touch me or tease me?” I grit out, frustration climbing as he continues to stare between my legs, swirling smooth strokes over my seam and making no effort to uncover my needy cunt.

He arches a brow, tilting his head to take me in as if sizing me up as his prey. “A lesson in restraint does seem to be in order, I see.” He nods to himself, as if in confirmation of what he’d already been thinking was necessary. “You’ll only come once today, Calista, and it will be when I’ve explicitly instructed you to. Do you understand?”

My inner walls clench and I fight back a groan of annoyance. “And if I don’t do as you instructed?” I know I’m playing with fire and he loves getting caught in the flames.

His eyes flare as if lit from within, my words stoking his desires. “Then my cock won’t be the only thing you’re choking on.” He allows no time for my mind to ruminate on his words before he’s wrapping one hand around my throat and tearing through my stockings with the other.

I gasp for air, but his fingers tighten with the struggle, my pussy growing wetter by the second. I’ve always been a glutton for Alastair’s specific brand of punishment.

“You remember your safe word, yes?” he asks, running the tip of his nose down the seam of my thong, releasing his hand from my throat and allowing me to answer.

“Y-yes,” I gasp out, having committed the word to memory four years ago but in all that time, I’ve only ever used it twice. The first was because I really needed to pee.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, tugging my thong and releasing it to snap back over my clit. I cry out in a symphony of pain and pleasure morphing into one.

He pulls on the thin scrap of lace, shredding it to expose my neatly trimmed pussy. His chest rumbles with approval as he inspects me there, swiping his fingers through my slickness before bringing them to his mouth. He groans, sucking them clean, leaning into my space to shove those same fingers past my lips. “Suck.”

I wrap my lips around his digits, tasting the remnants of my own arousal and the sweetness of his mouth before he shoves them further down my throat, causing me to gag on them. Tears prick the backs of my eyes as I try to suck air in through my nose, but he clamps his thumb and forefinger over my nostrils, unrelenting. It isn’t until my body begins to grow lax beneath him that he releases me, swiping a thumb over my swollen, saliva coated lips as I drag in greedy lungfuls of oxygen.

“Do you want my fingers in your pussy now?” I nod emphatically. “Do you think you’ve earned them?” I nod once more, hesitant this time.

His fingers, wet from my mouth, press against my entrance. “I’ll be the judge of that,” he says before plunging them inside me, pumping them in and out with the pad of his thumb swirling over my clit. My inner walls clench around him, trying to suck his fingers deeper still, and my head knocks back, eyelids shuttering as my back bows with the pleasure building inside me. “Eyes on me,” he rasps, and my eyes snap open, my gaze finding his. “Much better.”

I become consumed by sensation—fullness as his fingers plunge into me, pressure on my clit eliciting sparks that burst through me like incandescent light, the sounds of his harsh breaths and the languid glide of his fingers inside me, all mingling with the cool and luxurious scent of him on every surface that surrounds me. My body drives higher and higher toward the precipice and just as I feel the pleasure pulsing through my blood, and pressure building at the base of my spine, he removes his fingers from between my legs and clamps his hand over my throat.

“You are such a greedy girl, aren’t you? You weren’t even going to tell me how close you were.” He tsks, shaking his head in disapproval as he tightens his grip around my throat. “Present yourself to me,” he instructs like he has so many times before. I clamber to my knees, crawling to the end of the bed and push my ass up in the air, bowing my head to the mattress for him to watch as my arousal drips from my cunt, coating my thighs.

He climbs out of the bed, rounding it till I feel his looming, larger than life presence hovering over me, cloaking me in his warmth. His palm rests on my ass, swirling soothing circles over the skin, partially covered by what’s left of my pantyhose.

“I’ve only ever given you fair punishments. Would you agree?”

“Yes, Professor,” I answer, wiggling my ass into his hand, practically begging for what I know comes next.

“Good. So then you’d agree that five is more than fair, wouldn’t you?” His voice is rough, such a contrast from the gentle way he caresses my skin.

“You’ve never been a fan of odd numbers,” I tell him, knowing exactly what I’m getting myself into.