19. Karolina
KAROLINA
“Miss Williams.” Rand’s face is a hard, stern mask.
I can’t find the air to formulate a reply. Mortification burns my veins, making my entire body unbearably hot.
He’s still holding my wrist. My fingers glisten with my wet arousal.
I try to tug my hand free so I can run away from this shameful situation, but his grip tightens incrementally.
I watch with horrified fascination as he slowly drags my hand towards his lips.
Everything turns surreal. This can’t be happening.
His dark eyes are almost black, and he pins me with that intent stare.
He licks my fingers.
I want to melt into the shelf at my back. And I never want this moment to end.
It’s achingly erotic. The sensation of his tongue on my skin is decadent, and the way his nostrils flare when he tastes me is immensely gratifying.
“Rand…” His name is little more than a ragged whisper.
“My office,” he growls. “Now.”
He lowers my hand and reluctantly releases my wrist.
I unstick my feet from the floor and trail after him, almost in a daze as I remove my now-silent headphones. My phone is still in my hand, but Bones has ended the call.
My stomach dips. I have no idea what I’ll say to him later.
But I can’t worry about it right now.
Not when Rand’s broad back fills my vision, muscular shoulders straining against his crisp white shirt.
He’s tense. I’d think he was furious if he hadn’t just licked my arousal from my fingers.
I’m on edge, but the trepidation is thrilling. My wanton behavior could cost me my place at the university, but I suspect Rand doesn’t intend to get me kicked out.
I have no idea what will happen when we get to the privacy of his office. Wild scenarios race through my mind as we leave the library, each one more disturbingly erotic than the last.
He doesn’t say a word to me; he simply strides purposefully, leaving me no choice but to rush to keep up.
Part of me thinks I probably look like a puppy trotting along in his wake, but I’m not sure what else to do.
Leaving doesn’t seem like an option. I don’t think he’d allow it; he could easily keep pace with me and follow me home.
I straighten my shoulders. I’m no coward. I won’t run from him.
He had no right to touch me, even if I was masturbating in public.
No matter how insanely hot it was to watch him taste me, I have some leverage here. My professor made an overtly sexual advance.
If he thinks he can hold this over me, I’ll stand up for myself.
I’ve mostly gathered my resolve by the time we enter his office. The door snaps closed behind me, and suddenly his big body cages mine against the wall. His powerful arms brace on either side of my head, and his face is a feral mask.
I place a restraining hand on his chest and narrow my eyes at him. His heart hammers beneath my palm.
“I don’t think so,” I say tersely.
His brows draw together in dangerous slashes. “What’s changed in the last few minutes? You didn’t seem to be thinking at all when I caught you in the library.”
I tip my chin back, and his gaze flicks to my lips as though I’m offering a kiss.
“No,” I refuse before he can act. “Just because you caught me in a compromising position doesn’t give you the right to touch me.”
“The way your eyes flashed when I licked your juices from your fingers tells me I have every right. You want me.”
“That doesn’t mean I’ll let you drag me to your office and steal a kiss.”
“I didn’t drag you anywhere. I said come, and you obeyed. A kiss won’t be stolen. You’re going to offer it to me. I think I’ll make you beg for it, since you’ve decided to be so obstinate.”
I gape at him. “You should be the one begging. You’re practically panting after me. I’m your student, Professor.”
That wicked smirk makes my heart skip a beat.
“I think I like when you call me that. It has the proper air of authority.”
I roll my eyes and try to pretend I’m not turned on by his arrogance.
“What happened to you wanting me to call you Rand? I thought you preferred it over Professor Asshole.”
One long finger presses against my lips, and I’m shocked into silence for a traitorous moment.
“Just Professor will do,” he drawls. “Unless you want to add to your punishment?”
“I suggest you remove your finger if you don’t want to get bitten.” My warning is too breathy.
His other hand shifts, and his fingers slide into my hair, gripping gently.
“Tell me you want to stop.” He’s not taunting me; it’s a low reassurance.
If I say stop now, he’ll back off.
My hand is still on his chest, and my fingers curl into his shirt.
“I think you’re the one who doesn’t want to stop. Maybe you do want to be the one to beg.”
His low chuckle is darkly sensual. “We both know you wouldn’t like that.”
“You don’t know me,” I shoot back, but my retort is ruined when my breath hitches.
“I know you well enough. Don’t worry. I’ll more than earn my kiss. You will suffer for it.”
I glance down pointedly at his erection, and I have to fight the urge to swallow hard. Even against his trousers, I can tell he’s huge.
“I think you’re the one suffering right now,” I manage to quip.
“Oh yes,” he agrees, not at all abashed. “Do you want to be punished for that too? For making me ache for you?”
Honeyed warmth pools low in my belly: lust and feminine gratification.
I lick my lips, and his fingers tighten in my hair. His free hand hooks beneath my jaw to trap me in place.
I go utterly still, completely transfixed. His head dips toward mine, cruelly slow.
I’m practically trembling for him by the time his heated words caress my mouth.
“You’re aching too. But not nearly enough. Not yet. You can stop me at any time. Tell me you understand.”
“This is insane,” I say weakly.
“Don’t you dare say we can’t. We both want this. I’m tired of fighting it. Aren’t you?”
“That doesn’t mean it’s right.”
“I don’t give a fuck about what’s right. I just want you. Tell me you want me, Lena.”
Acting on animal instinct, I strain to tip my head back farther. His grip on my hair and face renders me immobile.
“I want you,” I whisper, giving in to the madness.
“Professor.” He corrects me.
A shudder of raw desire rolls through me. “I want you, Professor.”
His lips nearly brush mine when he says, “Good girl.”
An embarrassing whimper slips out of me in response to the low praise. I’ve been craving to hear him say it for days.
It seemed impossible before now. Completely wrong.
But I don’t care anymore. We passed inappropriate when he found me in the library.
“Stay,” he commands, lingering against my lips for a few pulsing heartbeats, imposing his will.
When he releases my face, I try to follow his touch on instinct.
His grip tightens in my hair.
“We’ll have to work on your obedience, brat.”
“My name is Lena,” I rebut.
“I can think of a lot of names I’d prefer to use right now, but we’ll stick with brat until you’re better behaved.”
I pout. “You’re being an asshole again.”
He tugs my head back, giving me a little flash of warning pain.
“And you love it.”
He shouldn’t be able to read me so easily, but all my defenses are in tatters. Ever since he found out about my stalker and vowed to be my protector, I haven’t been able to keep up my walls around him.
Or maybe it’s our chemistry that renders me powerless against his probing gaze.
“Then I guess it won’t be much of a punishment if I enjoy it so much,” I purr. “You’ll have to try harder, Professor.”
His grin is practically evil. “You wanted an orgasm while you were touching yourself in the library. I’ll make sure you get one. You’ll beg for mercy before I’m finished with you.”
“Oh no, how terrible to be given an orgasm. You’re so cruel.” I’m baiting the beast, but I’m drunk on our heady connection.
“You have no idea.”
He loosens his tie.
“Give me your wrists.”
I hesitate, clinging to my final scrap of resistance. I’m enjoying our power play.
His beautiful face firms to the stern mask that messes with my head and makes my insides melt.
My wrists are in front of me. His navy tie is silky soft, and his fingers are featherlight as he brushes my pulse points, reminding me just how much he makes my heart race.
He knots the tie in place, securing my wrists together in front of me. He tugs on the length, using it as a leash to guide me inexorably to his desk.
Books and papers go flying with one powerful sweep of his arm, making me jump.
Undeterred, he grasps my hips and manhandles me until I’m bent over the desk.
I squirm. “Hey!”
His hand cracks across my butt, stinging even through my jeans.
“Don’t sass me again,” he warns. “You’ll only make things worse for yourself.”
He leans over me and secures my wrists to the opposite corner of the desk, stretching me out beneath him. His thick erection presses into my ass, and I tense.
“Wait,” I pant. “I’m not… This is too fast.”
He backs away just enough so that our only contact is his hand in my hair. His fingers play through the brunette locks in a soothing rhythm.
“I’m not going to fuck you,” he promises.
“But don’t you…” My cheeks heat, and I’m not sure if I’m disappointed or flustered. “Don’t you want me?”
“You have no idea how goddamn badly I want you,” he confesses. “But I won’t take more than you’re ready to give.”
I draw in a shaky breath and relax beneath his tender touch on my hair.
It defies all logic, but he’s promised to keep me safe so many times. He won’t hurt me now.
And I’m so consumed by need that logic left the room a long time ago.
“Are you ready to be punished?” he asks, voice low and deep with his own desire.
I try and fail to suppress a shiver. “What about my kiss?”
“So greedy,” he admonishes. “You’ll get your kiss eventually.”
For a moment, I think of Bones’ rough growl. He often accuses me of being greedy.
Rand seems every bit as domineering as my masked man.
I guess I have a type.
I shove thoughts of Bones from my mind before guilt can nip at me. Rand is more than just a faceless man on a screen. He’s all too real, his body heat pulsing over me.
His deft fingers find the button at the front of my jeans.