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“Luna,” she says quickly.
I clench my jaw. “Miss Hendrix,” I grit out. “You have no idea what you’re asking for. I’m your teacher and much older than you.”
I need her to see reason, because my own is slipping precariously close to the edge.
“I don’t care about your age,” she says in a shaky voice. She presses her lips together, and her back straightens. “And I do know what I want.”
“You’re too young to know. This is just a teenage crush. I’m in no way the appropriate person to give you what you want.”
I can see it in her eyes that she wants to protest. She even opens her mouth, but immediately snaps it shut. Doubt starts to creep over her features, and her eyes drop from mine. Seeing that look does bad things to my body.
She starts backing away from me, her eyes darting around the room, looking anywhere but at me. I don’t like it. I hate the fucking rejection radiating off her.
“I get it,” she mumbles. “I’m sorry.” She stops by the couch, reaching over the back to grab her bag. “Could—” Her voice cracks, so she tries again. “Could you take me back to my car now?”
She’s still facing the couch. Her shoulders are slumped and the side of her face I can see is a bright red. Her chest rises and falls rapidly, like she’s fighting back her tears.
Slowly, I walk toward her. My intention is to talk some sense into her, to get her to see why giving her what she wants is such a bad idea. That’s what I plan to do, what I should do.
But what I do instead is the total opposite. My control snaps once I’m behind her. All I can think about is stripping her clothes off and devouring every single fucking inch of her.
It’s wrong.
So goddamn wrong.
But for the life of me I can’t think of the reasons why.
She’s eighteen.
She’s legal.
This is what both of us want.
Why in the hell shouldn’t I give it to her?
I step up so close she has to feel the heat of my chest hit her back. Leaning my head to one side of her face, I rest my lips at her ear.
“Is this really what you want?”
Her head jerks up and she pants out “Yes.”
“Know this, Luna. What I’m going to do to you won’t be nice and clean. It’ll be hard, dirty, raw, and will have you screaming my name. But it’ll be so fucking good, you’ll feel me for days and come begging for more.” I nip the side of her neck. “You sure you can handle that?”
Her hands move to the back of the couch, and she grips the material so tightly her knuckles turn white. After a moment, she turns her head to the side and her eyes meet mine. “Yes,” she moans, that one word music to my ears.
As soon as it leaves her lips, I grab her hips and growl, “Keep your hands there.”
I pull her back a foot, forcing her to bend over. Running my hand over her jean-covered ass, I’m tempted to just yank down her pants and force my cock into the tight depths of her pussy, whether she’s wet enough to take me or not.
If she weren’t so innocent, I would. Luna claims to be able to handle what I want to give her, but I know otherwise. She may think she can, but my brand of fucking would send her running for the hills.
I tamp down my need to rut at her willing body and reach around for the button of her jeans. As I slowly slide the zipper down, I press my hard cock against her backside, grinding against her ass.
Her hair has fallen forward, hiding my view of her face. Needing to make sure she’s still with me, I grab the long strands in my fist and pull back her head. Her mouth is open as she pants, and her eyes are wide.
“You still with me?” I grunt.
Her tongue peeks out again, running along her bottom lip. When she nods, I give her hair a little yank.
