Chapter 9 #3
I tried to focus on breathing, my lips rolling together and my eyes staring out the window. Tiny raindrops had begun to smack the glass.
He stood up and tossed the wipe in the trash, then used his hold on my hip to drag me to him, chest to chest. I peered up at him, heart hammering as I waited for whatever he was about to say.
But he didn’t say anything.
Micah forced his hand below my waistband, shoving his way into my jeans without unbuttoning them, grabbing my ass, massaging me, his hand trapped firmly between the tight fabric of my jeans and my skin.
“Is there cum on your ass, too?”
“I don’t know,” I panted. “I don’t think so.”
“Let’s make sure.”
Micah spun me around and unbuttoned my jeans then tugged them down to the tops of my thighs as he sat back in his chair. I flexed my fingers, trying to keep myself composed, praying he would touch me the way I wanted—but knowing he wouldn’t. All I could do was endure him.
“Is there?” I managed to ask.
“No.”
My humiliation lessened, ever-so-slightly.
He stretched the elastic edges of my underwear with his thumbs, slipping under the cotton, then bunched the material up in my ass like a thong.
“This where he fucked you? In this perfect, slutty cunt?” His fingertip skimmed along the very edges of my underwear, brushing soft cotton, making me shiver.
I squeezed my eyes shut. My whole body ached.
And the fact that I could still feel Mason from when he stretched me on his cock this morning only turned me on more.
“Fuck, Dakota. You just let me do whatever I want to you, huh?” Micah said, his voice hoarser now.
He palmed my ass, his thumb pressing to the tender crease at the top of my inner thigh, barely pushing between my legs.
If he moved another inch, he’d feel the wetness soaking through my underwear.
He could probably see my pathetic arousal darkening the cotton already, and the thought of that erotic sight made me weak.
“Just standing there letting me touch you however I like.”
He wasn’t looking for an answer from me, but I nodded anyway.
“And if I wanted to play with your pussy for the rest of the day, you’d let me do that too, huh? You wouldn’t get to come, of course. You don’t get that from me anymore. I’d edge you until you fucking cried. Until you passed out.”
God, I wanted it.
I wanted him to bend me over his desk and spank my ass raw for my terrible behavior.
To deny me my orgasm until I was a pathetic, sobbing mess.
And I knew both of those things would make him hard.
“Don’t move,” Micah said rapidly, his voice harsh and quiet.
I froze, pulse spiking.
There were footsteps in the hall, approaching the door to Micah’s office.
“Confirm you heard me,” Micah ordered.
“I won’t move,” I whispered, hands trembling.
All at once, a strange prickly sensation engulfed my entire body, like cold needles—and there was a knock at the door. My heartbeat in my ears was deafening.
But I noticed in my peripheral that I could no longer see my own body.
Panic made my eyes wide.
“Come in,” Micah called, his voice steady. He was sitting normally in his chair now, two of his fingers pressed discreetly to my calf behind the desk.
His grad student opened the door.
I wished the floor would open up and swallow me.
“Hey,” Nick said, apparently unable to see that I was standing here in my underwear. “I’m out of town this weekend.”
“Alright. I appreciate you letting me know,” Micah answered.
“I would’ve texted you, but I was already here—figured I’d stop by and see if you were around.”
“Well, thanks for stopping by. I don’t have much planned for the weekend, so it won’t be a problem.
” Micah sounded perfectly normal, his tone entirely confident and casual.
Meanwhile I was fighting not to vomit. The cold, prickly sensation was also slightly overwhelming, wrapping all of my limbs and surrounding my torso, tight along my scalp and face.
“Oh—I also emailed you a paper I found this morning. It’s actually really decent.
They did a slight variation on one of the grid packing methods we tried earlier this year, and it’s quite interesting.
I’m not sure if it will be useful at the scale of our column, but I wanted to get your thoughts either way. ”
“I’ll check it out and get back to you. I did want to circle back to that eventually. I feel we’re reaching our limit with the random packing. Structured could be a nice way to start the new year.”
“Great. I agree with that. I’ll see you next week.”
“Bye, Nick.”
Once the door was shut, Micah removed his fingers from my calf, stopping the needle-like feeling that’d canvased my skin.
I let out a long exhale—unsure I’d breathed once during the entire interaction.
“You made me invisible,” I said as warmth returned to my fingertips and I tried to wrap my brain around what’d just happened.
“Yes. I did.”
“That was a close call.” I bit the inside of my cheek.
“It really wasn’t.”
“What if I’d spoken?”
“I took your voice, too. So that wasn’t a concern.”
“Oh. Is that difficult to do? To take away things from me?”
“From you? Not really.” Micah yanked my jeans back up, buttoning and zipping them, then straightened out my sweatshirt.
His hands were warm. My pulse was still slightly unstable, from the combination of Nick showing up unexpectedly and the simple baseline effect Micah had on me.
“I’ve had a lot of years to strengthen my abilities. I’m used to the feeling.”
“It gives you a feeling?”
I stared at him, desperate, wanting any crumb of him I could get, ready to do anything to get it.
“I want you at my house tonight,” Micah said, then reached out to smooth my hair, to curl it behind my ear. He didn’t answer my question. “I want you in my bed. I’ll drive you back to my place after your next class.”
“Okay,” I said quietly, fidgeting. “Will Mason be there?”
“What are you hoping I’ll say?”
“I’m hoping you’ll say no,” I answered, my voice little more than a whisper now. I wasn’t sure I could handle being around both of them tonight, and I was afraid Mason would do something bad to piss Micah off even more. To make him hate me.
Though I was probably doing that just fine on my own.
“He’s going to be there.” Micah’s hand slipped around the back of my head, and he gathered my hair in his fist, lightly tugging on the dark blonde strands. His voice roughened, got meaner, angrier. “Maybe you two can fuck in my guest bedroom. Or—you know what—how about you just do it in my bed?”
“I wouldn’t do that,” I breathed.
“Liar.” He pulled my hair harder until I visibly winced and pleasure expanded his pupils. “You’re lucky I’m disgustingly obsessed with you.”
“I’m obsessed with you, too.”
He paused, narrowed his eyes.
Then he released my hair.
“You’re going to be late for your next class. Come on.”