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“Can’t you go back to professionalism when time is moving again?” I offer.
“How frantic is your mind pulling three different streams of magic at once?” he counters.
“Like a sea of delusional catastrophe,” I note with a smirk as I whisper, “And it’s four.”
“I knew you’d do that,” he grunts and has my chin in his grasp.“Don’t mimic my magic, Gilded Viper.”
“Or what?” I combat him, our lips brushing. “You’ll come to my dorm room and fuck me senseless.”
“You know that’s against the rules.
“Rules are meant to be broken, Orpheus.”
I can’t believe I’m taunting my professor after kissing him and am drawing out frozen time until he gives me what I want.
I love when people underestimate how dangerous I can be.
“Fine.”
I’m surprised by his easy admission.
“What?”
“Fine,” he affirms.
“Just not this Friday,” I counter. “That’s mine and Sweet Dalmatian’s time.”
My poor professor is going to lose his mind when it comes to me.
“You won’t show any more powerful spells for the duration of this trial,” he insists.
“Because?” I’m curious—as usual.“Protecting me from something?” I lean in so I can speak against his lips. “Or someone?”
“You don’t fully grasp the lengths fae will go to have you on their side of this brewing war.” He kisses me before I can try to combat him, the two of us moaning at the sizzling spark of power that pulses between us.
I almost slip up on using his own powers to keep time still, but he seems to rein in control as he releases my swollen lips, which tingle with numbness.
“I’ll pull some strings,” he finally summarizes. “No more showing off.”
“Don’t lie that you don’t love watching me slay,” I grumble, only to see his slight smirk.
“Am I the one eating popcorn?” he counters.
“No,” I grumble. “You do have a boner, though…”
He doesn’t look down to confirm my obvious observation.
“Eyes on what you want, Miss Guinevere.”
“That’s hard when everything surrounding me should be mine for the taking,” I whisper back and narrow my eyes on him. “Though I do have my eyes exactly where they’re meant to be.”
He bites his bottom lip.
“Eyes on what you want, Professor North,” I whisper and let go of any strands of his magic that kept time at bay. He’s already letting those threads slip away from his end, bringing us back to ticking reality. Despite the seconds clicking and the tension in the atmosphere spiking, his eyes never leave mine.
“My eyes have always been on what I want, Ophelia.”
The sound of that velvety deep voice within the hollows of my mind is shiver-inducing deliciousness, but we’re back and being watched by whoever the real observer of these trials are.
