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“And ruin a perfectly good set of underwear?” he asks with a frown.
“I don’t care.”
The professor tuts. “I must teach you not to be wasteful.”
A growl of frustration resounds in my throat.
He runs his fingers over my knickers, and the flesh beneath the lace fabric warms at his touch. When he pushes it to one side and exposes my pussy, I suck in a deep breath.
“You’re beautiful.” His thumb slides over my clit, which by now feels like a raw nerve.
The compliment skips over my ego. I open my mouth, a scream lodging in the back of my throat. This is it. He’s going to bury his face between my spread thighs and pleasure me with his tongue. Or his thumb. At this point, I’m beyond caring as long as I get some touch.
Then afterward, he can fuck me until I can’t remember my name.
“You’re so wet.”
“Yes,” I say from between ragged breaths. “Things like that happen when you make a girl wait.”
“Is that so?” His voice hardens, and I can already hear him making me wait longer, just to teach me a lesson for being sarcastic.
My jaw clicks shut. Suddenly, his orders to remain silent make perfect sense. Professor Segul withholds touch like a weapon of mass frustration.
“Are you thirsting for something?” he asks.
“Yes.”
“Then let’s share some of your lovely wine.”
“What?”
The professor rises from the bench in front of the gyno chair, leaving me lying there with my legs splayed out obscenely.
My clit is so swollen and raw with neglect that it rubs against the lace of my knickers. I glare at his broad back, my hips jerking up and down to create a little friction. It might have worked if I wasn’t so sopping wet.
The muscles of my pussy pulse in complaint, wanting to be filled. I throw my head back and swallow down a groan. Any other guy would have fucked me by now, but this one just wants to see me suffer.
I’m so absorbed in my desperate thoughts that I don’t even notice Professor Segul’s return until he’s looming above me with the wine bottle.
“Sancerre,” he says. “Interesting choice.”
I’m not going to tell him it’s something I read about in Fifty Shades because this man is no Christian Grey. I don’t remember the main character ever getting teased so mercilessly. In fact, they had sex before they did any of the heavy stuff.
Professor Segul raises a brow as though asking me to elaborate on my choice of wine.
“Do you like it?” I ask.
“Tesco’s Finest.” He says that as though it’s something I picked up from the gutter.
“Excuse me for not having the funds to buy the most exquisite vintage,” I say from between clenched teeth.
He chuckles, but the sound carries a touch of malice. “There’s something you should know about wines,” he says, every syllable rolling off my skin like a caress. “Even something that borders on vinegar may be passable if properly decanted.”
I swallow, my throat suddenly unbearably dry. “Is that so?”
Professor Segul glances from side to side. “What a pity all my fine crystal is upstairs.”
“What does that mean?” My brows pull together.
