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My obedience compels me to remain still until Julian has finished with me. He removes the makeshift gag from between my lips and uses the fabric to clean me, wiping away the signs of our tryst leaking from my center.
“Hmm,” I hear him murmur before he sighs. “Can’t bloody throw these in the bin, now, can I?”
I turn my head slightly to catch him pocketing my dirty panties.
“Come along, little one. You’ve got essays to sort, and I’ve got a lecture to prepare.”
At last, I stand, wiggling the life back into my limbs. Julian comes around to stand opposite me, and from the look of him, you’d never know he just fucked me like an animal. Not a single hair is out of place and there is no sweat beading along his brow. The only sign is his slightly untucked shirt.
“You really have to stop teasing me, little one,” he says with the quirk of his brow. “Can’t have too many more of these slip-ups.”
Over the next few days, there isn’t time to be reckless. Stephanie hounds me about my revised capstone project, which I haven’t even considered since the first day of school.
“I can’t stay at your place tonight,” I tell Julian after his last lecture.
His nostrils flare.
“We’ve discussed this, little one,” he says sternly.
But tonight, I can’t be his “little one.” I need to be Meghan, the college senior.
“I really have to go back into my research and revise my capstone project. Stephanie has been bugging me for days. I can’t keep brushing her off.”
My dominant daddy softens. “Tell me how I can help, Megs.”
I sigh. I love the way my names sound coming from his lips. “Thanks, but I need to do this myself. I don’t want to be accused of academic dishonesty.”
Before I can brush past him, he stops me with a firm hand on my shoulder. “Our relationship is about more than sex, little one. I’m here to make you happy, even if that means taking a night off from stuffing you full of my cock.”
Laughter bubbles up and escapes my lips. “I really appreciate the offer, Julian. But I want to do this on my own.”
Julian releases me, but doesn’t let me pass. He leans against a nearby desk and crosses his arms over his broad chest.
“Fine. Then at least tell me your original topic and the reason Stephanie rejected it. If I think she’s wrong, then I’ll help you fight. If she’s right, let me give you a few suggestions.”
I sigh and give in to him. “Okay. I wanted to focus on the character of Ophelia and track all the various ways she’s been portrayed.”
“To what end?”
“To show she wasn’t weak and mad, but trapped by the misogynistic society in which she lived. Her death was the only thing she could control.”
He presses his index finger against his lips and is quiet for a moment. “And what did Stephanie say?”
“It’s derivative. She said they’ve covered Ophelia ad nauseam.”
“She’s right.” His words are unexpected. “Poor, poor mad Ophelia. Everyone wants to research her and dissect her. What else have you got?”
I shrug. “Nothing. I’ve always been drawn to Ophelia.”
“You spent all that time at Cambridge researching one female character? Tsk, tsk, tsk.”
“Not exactly. I also spent time on Desdemona.”
His eyes light up.
“Now you’re talking.” Julian stands up straighter, steps forward, and grabs my hand. “Come on, little one. I’ll draw you a nice, hot bath and we can spend the night discussing tragic romance. By morning, you’ll have your capstone project sussed out.”
His tone of voice makes me suspicious. He’s far too chipper about all of this, and sex hasn’t even been mentioned. He has something wicked planned. I just know it.
