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Professor Segul stands by my side, looking down at me like I’m a lost kitten he’s found shivering at the roadside. At least that’s how it appears to me.
I can’t tell if he’s going to put me out of my misery or offer me a saucer of milk.
He slips one arm beneath my back, the other underneath my legs, and scoops me into his arms.
My heart flips like a crepe.
“Where are we—”
“No more orgasms until you’ve eaten.”
I stiffen, but he reaches up to push down my head so it rests on his broad shoulder. No one has ever picked me up like this, at least not that I remember. No one has ever made me feel so cherished and safe.
This is… unexpected.
I relax against his chest and let my eyes flutter closed.
“But you said you wanted to make me squirt,” I say in a small voice.
“There’ll be plenty of time for you to learn to ejaculate under my instruction.”
“You almost sound like a professor,” I murmur.
He huffs a laugh and carries me to the other side of the room. We’re headed in the direction of the four-poster bed, but my eyelids are too heavy to bother to peek.
He lowers me onto a mattress covered in leather, and my nostrils fill with the scent of polish. My arms flop to the side, and I fully expect him to pull them above my head, but he sits beside me and massages sensation back into my wrist.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“Checking that the restraints haven’t caused any damage.”
“Oh.” My brows pull together. “Are you going to tie me up?”
“Is that what you want?” he asks with a dark chuckle.
“Maybe.”
He sets down one wrist before caressing the other. His touch is surprisingly gentle for a man who pinned me to the desk and snarled in my face.
“Do you do this with all your girlfriends?” I keep my voice even to hide my real question.
“I take care of what’s mine, if that’s what you’re asking.”
There’s a lightness to his tone that implies he’s deliberately skirting around my question, but I’m too hungry and exhausted to push for answers.
Shit. Why am I even prying? The last thing I need right now is to get attached.
After rubbing sensation back into my ankles and knees, he cradles an arm around my back and helps me sit up. I sink into a cushioned leather headrest, and I finally pull my eyes open to see him staring down at me with an assessing gaze.
My stomach tightens. Is he deciding whether I’m worth keeping?
“What?” I finally ask.
“Was there anything that happened today that you couldn’t handle?”
“It was fine,” I reply.
Fine?
