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He thinks about it, his eyes tracing me, causing me to shiver. “Very well. You can make yourself presentable once you get to my home. Now, is that all?”
I glare at him; I don’t like being dismissed so easily. “Nope, I have a date with my boyfriend Saturday,” I lie, wanting him to feel the anger that I do. Lincoln doesn’t hide his need for control or jealousy very well from me. So different to the man who always seems in control in front of others.
His hand, pulsing with veins and a sprinkling of dark hair, freezes. “No, you don’t.”
“I—”
“Not anymore. Cancel the date.” He cuts me off, swinging his chair back around and ignoring me.
I stare at him, a little shocked. The harsh cold contrasting to the burning heat he showed me last weekend nips at me. I know I’m inexperienced, with life and men, but it feels like he goes hot and cold a lot. Jake was never like that, but I honestly can’t compare the two. Not even a little.
I stomp to my things, throwing my stuff into my bag. Not being quiet, not caring how bratty I appear to be, I make sure my journal is in my bag before I throw his classroom door open, about to walk through it, when something grabs me by the back of my neck, turning me back around just as the door shuts beside me. My back hits the wall and I drop my bag, my eyes wide in shock as he pins me in place, his hand now grabbing my neck. “Do we have a problem, Miss Madison?”
“Maybe,” I say breathlessly as he kicks my legs apart, inserting his strong tree trunk thigh between them, pushing it against my core.
“Want to enlighten me or do you prefer to keep having a fit, like a spoiled child?”
“I don’t have to explain myself to you. My emotions are my own.”
He laughs, teeth flashing as he squeezes my neck tighter. “That’s where you’re wrong. I own you now. Your thoughts, your body, your bratty little mouth.” He flips me around, my nipples scraping against the fabric of my dress as he presses me to the wall. I feel his hands slide up my bare thighs, squeezing into the flesh of my ass. Slowly, he bunches the hem of my dress into his fist, pushing it up to my waist. And then he smacks me. Right on the tenderest part of my ass. I press harder into the wall, trying to muffle the tiny whimper that’s burst from my lips. “Just think, you could be getting rewarded right now if you could simply control your bratty temper. Instead,” he slaps my ass again, the sting seeping into my skin, making my body flush all over, a radiating pules mimicking a heartbeat, “you’re being punished,” he whispers into the back of my neck, dragging his lips down my spine.
I squirm with arousal, my body uncontrollable with need. His hand slides from my ass to between my legs. His finger sliding noisily through my wetness, making my body buck against him. “Please,” I whisper.
He removes his hand, smacking me again. “What was that, Doll Face?”
“Please,” I moan as he spanks me again.
“Do you want to come?” he asks darkly.
“Yes,” I whisper breathlessly, my chest scraping against the wall as my face rests against it. The coolness of the wall easing the sweat on my forehead.
“You should have thought about that before you acted out.” He spanks me until I’m a mess, begging and whimpering, shaking in his grip as he repeatably assaults the raw flesh of my ass. And then I break, my release blinding as it drips down my thighs and onto his shoes. Tears stream from my eyes, my body shaking and sweating. “On your knees,” he commands. I do, dropping to my knees in front of him. Facing him now. All I can see is myself glistening on his shoes. “Clean it up.”
My head jerks up, heat blossoming over my cheeks. “What?”
“Clean up the mess you made on my shoes. With your tongue. Now.”
Swallowing, I lean over, my tongue licking over the leather. It’s mortifying and arousing all at the same time. My tongue tastes the leather and myself, it’s different but not horrible.
I lick until he tells me to stop. “You’re dismissed.”
I grab the things I dropped, quickly walking through the hallways. Once I’m in the safety of my car, I scream, because what the fuck just happened?
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Journal entry: So, maybe I enjoy pissing people off.
There aresome games I play where I feel like I left myself on the court. Where I’ve given every ounce of blood, sweat, and tears, every fiber of my soul into the game. And instead of feeling empty afterward, I feel alive. Like I’ve just learned to breathe. My body feels like it’s been to war, every single muscle sore, arms and legs marred with court burns. My body like Jell-O. That’s how I’m feeling tonight as I drag myself up Lincoln’s steps. Wondering if I can even make it to the top.
I know I’m covered in sweat, my braids loose. I haven’t even changed out of my uniform as I ring his doorbell, readjusting the heavy duffle bag on my shoulder. I feel embarrassed he has to see me less than perfect, if I’m being honest to myself. I’m sure the women he’s used to are very well put together, not a sweaty teenage mess. And I do feel insecure. So much so, I wonder if I should have gone home first, to take a shower and get ready, but then Mom would ask why I needed to look so good to go to Macy’s house. And I would get caught in my lie, because I suck at lying.
The door swings open and my legs nearly collapse when I see him in his slacks and open button-up shirt, making that fantasy of licking the grooves of his abs take over my body as I step forward. My balance is a little shaky as I stumble, my bag dropping out of my grasp. He places an arm around me, his other scooping under my legs. He abandons my bag as I wrap my arms around his neck, my head falling to his chest. I never thought I’d love to be carried, but I do. This is the only way I want to be handled. If my feet never touch the ground again, I would not be disappointed. “I’m sorry I’m so sweaty and gross. Nasty and unappealing, really.”
His arms tighten around me as he kicks the door shut behind him. “You’ll apologize for a lot of things, I’m almost certain of it, but your appearance will never be one of them.”
I gasp when he slams me down on the stairs, peeling my spandex shorts from my body as he grips my thighs, bringing me to his mouth and inhaling. He’s shameless, ruthless, as he swipes his tongue through me, tasting me when I wish he’d let me shower first. “I’ve been dying to taste you all week.” His voice fans against me.
“I think I should have a shower first.” I moan as he buries his skilled tongue inside me.
