Page 119 of Wicked Lessons


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There’s no answer.

He’s probably upstairs, conducting one of his furtive phone calls, which he’ll end abruptly the moment I walk in.

The professor is the complete opposite to Dad. Dad would scream at me to get the fuck out, and add a few degrading insults just to let me know I’m a worthless parasite.

I shake my head. “What am I doing, comparing my sugar daddy to my real one?”

Parting the heavy curtain, I swing my legs to the side and slide off the mattress. There’s a tray on the bedside table with a bottle of drinking yogurt and a note that says,DRINK ME.

This is soAlice in Wonderlandthat I can’t help wondering which character represents him.

After downing the contents of the glass, I make my way to the door.

Professor Segul descends the stairs, shirtless and in his leather pants.

“Going somewhere?”

Without meaning to, my gaze travels down to his bare feet. His toes are nearly twice as long as mine, with visible bones that stretch to the ankles. They end with short, clean nails that must have been shaped with a pedicure.

When I meet his eyes, he tilts his head with his brow raised. I already know what he’s leaving unsaid.

“It’s not a foot fetish,” I blurt.

“Of course it isn’t,” he replies, sounding completely unconvinced and closes the distance between us.

His sandalwood scent is subtle, yet I still sway on my feet, overwhelmed. The air between us thickens until I feel it crackling with palpable tension.

He cups the side of my face and runs the pad of his thumb over my bottom lip. Tingles explode across my chest, down my nipples, and awaken a hunger in my core. The pulse between my legs thrums with anticipation.

“How’s your head?” he asks, his voice neutral.

“It’s fine.” I’m lost in his blue eyes, which look indigo in the dim light. Lost in wonder at how he can sound so calm when my insides are in turmoil.

“Hungry?” His deep voice hits me straight in the core.

“Only for you.” The words spill from my lips before I can stop them.

Professor Segul’s eyes darken, and the corners of his lips tighten. I can’t tell if I’ve overstepped some kind of BDSM etiquette because the rest of his face remains impassive.

“Elaborate.”

My throat tightens, and I bite down on my bottom lip. “I want us to have sex.”

His features don’t even flicker. “Get on your knees and crawl to the center of the room.”

The indifference in his tone sends a shiver down my spine that settles deep in my pussy. I pause for two heartbeats before dropping down to the floor. Professor Segul’s erection strains through his leather pants, making the pulse at my clit pound harder.

Taking a deep breath, I place my palms on the floor and crawl back through the dungeon door.

It should be humiliating, moving around on all fours like I’m his pet, but there’s a freedom in following his orders that not only gives me a sense of safety and acceptance that I’ve never felt before but makes me giddy with desire.

Heat pools in my pussy as I rub my legs together to create a little friction.

“Stop.”

I sit back on my haunches and watch him stand in the doorway like a demon king surveying his court. The dim light bathes his skin in a haze of red and highlights his dark tattoos.

Anticipation skitters across my skin, but that’s also when I realize I’m overdressed. “Should I take off my tank top?”

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