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I didn’t let her answer before I continued. She needed to know the truth. Her mother wasn’t an investment prodigy like she held herself out to be. At best, she was incompetent. Negligent. “Dear old Mum’s friend lost everything. Is that the truth you’ll find? What about the truth that he couldn’t face his family anymore? He committed suicide, Zali. That family wakes up every day without their husband and father because of your mother. Is it that truth?”
“Fuck you,” she spat, her knee pressing between my legs as she tried to take out my nuts.
Flynn twisted, quickly shifting to stand behind me. He hauled me against him, pulling me off balance for a moment. One step back into his embrace, and it pulled me out of reach of her knee. My brain scrambled, every cell evaporating on a puff of sex-scented air. I bit back a groan. Talk about a fucking fantasy come to life.
“That’s enough,” he ground out, gripping me harder, his bulge nestling between my cheeks. “Who the hell do you think you are?”
I ignored Flynn’s question and stepped forward, hooking a hand under Zali’s knee and hitching it over my hip. The heat emanating from her core was like a siren’s call, and I reacted on instinct, closing my other hand around the beautiful woman’s throat. I didn’t squeeze, and it wasn’t hard enough to hurt, but it was firm enough to remind her of the pecking order in this office.
She was my student.
My kitten.
I was her professor.
I was the one who decided how this assignment would be done, not her.
She fought in my hold, gripping my shirt at my waist with both hands and pressing her gorgeous tits into my chest, yet she pulled her face away. It was as if her mind and body were at war. Her eyes flashed, her lips a thin line as she pressed them together, but her body undulated against mine, rubbing herself like a cat on me. Her nipples were pebbled under the soft-as-silk excuse for a top, and I was sure there would be a wet patch on the front of my suit pants when we finished this little discussion.
My dick bucked as I thought about delving inside her. I wanted deep in her with a desperation that bordered on obsession.
Zali’s breathy moan snapped the last thread of my control. I ground my hard dick against her pussy, a possessive growl bubbling up my throat. When Flynn did the same to me, one hand gripping my hip hard enough to bruise and the other still firmly wrapped around my chest, thrusting his hips and grinding the bulge in his sexy white pants against my arse, I couldn’t help the clench of my hole. Fuck, I wanted them both.
Zali twisted again, trying to pull free while also tugging me closer. Her eyes narrowed and lips twisted into a sneer. I wanted to wipe the attitude from her face.
I was way beyond any form of reasonable decision-making, so far beyond behaving appropriately, it wasn’t funny, but I wouldn’t take what I really wanted. Not yet anyway. “Angel,” I rasped, “Kiss our kitten.”
Six
Zali
I
wanted to kill him. No, I wanted to hate fuck him, then kill him. Angel? I was no fucking angel. But Flynn’s sharp intake of breath had me pausing, and I knew. I just knew.
Professorhole wasn’t talking to me.
Flynn zeroed in on my lips. He bit down on his, teeth scraping over the plump flesh. It was a shock to my system. Desire flooded me once again. But this time it was for Flynn.
The professor was talking to Flynn, telling him to kiss me.
A shiver ripped through me. I wanted it. I wanted him.
He was my best friend, the boy who needed as much of an escape from his shitty childhood as I’d needed from my shitty teenage years.
He’d grown up the odd kid out, the baby of a dirt-stained gaggle of kids who was terrified of the rats that called their squalid hoarder dump of a house home. I was the girl who had everything and lost nearly all of it. The one who was so destroyed by grief that she did ever more daring things just to feel something. Whether it was letting men use me like my cunt was a revolving door or hacking into whatever top secret records I could get my hands on, I didn’t care.
But Flynn never judged me, never criticized me for the way I lived. He never called me names or treated me like I was an object like so many others did. His eyes on me felt good, but he’d never once taken advantage. In my darkest days, I wouldn’t have hesitated to spread my legs for him, but he'd always been kind. Respectful. That meant more than anything to me.
He was gorgeous too, beautiful. The light to my dark, the soothing balm to my raging inferno.
I couldn’t live without him.
I loved him. I always would. He was my best friend.
I’d never crossed that line before, and now I didn’t know whether I should.
But I needed it too. I rubbed my clit against the professor’s body, trying to get off, despite the hatred thrumming through me. Logic told me I wasn’t quite right in the head for wanting it. For needing the professor’s cock like it was a life preserver and I was drowning in shark-infested waters. I knew it was wrong. Even though it had been a long time since I’d craved dick like this, I knew what society would label me as. I just couldn’t muster up the fucks to give. Other people’s rules could take a flying leap off the nearest cliff for all I cared.
