There's a way around it. A way to make this right for her. For both of us. "What if you have to choose?"
"Choose what?"
"This or that. Sex or school?" I swallow hard. I'm not prepared for the answer. Not as a man or an artist or a person with the ability to resist someone. "No more lessons. No more help with your project."
She nods, understanding.
"If you could only have one, which would it be?"
Chapter Thirteen
MAX
"Do you doubt my answer?" Opal asks.
I try to tap into my willpower, but the well is empty. "No."
"I want to be with you again. I want to learn from you here."
"There are other men who will teach you this."
"I don't want them."
My stomach settles. My pulse races.
"I want you. And if you followed me here, you want me too."
"I do."
"Then why not?"
"It's wrong."
"Do you care?"
Not as much as I should. I swallow hard.
"What if this is part of my self-discovery? What if I need someone who can help me tie my sexuality and art together?"
"Do you?"
"Does it matter?"
"Yes."
"I don't know if I need it, but I want it."
Fuck, I want to say yes. "It has to be on my terms."
"What rule have I broken?"
She's right. I'm the one who suddenly took over as her professor. I'm the one who called our night together nothing. I'm the one who followed her here.
Even so—
"On my terms, Opal," I say.
She nods go on.
"Never on campus or during the week."
"In your office?"
"From the moment you arrive to the start of class Monday morning."
"All weekend?"
"All weekend."
"What if I run into you outside of school?"
"Pretend I'm only your professor."
"I want a way to contact you during the week," she says.
I should say no, but I can't resist the possibility. "Only texts."
"No calls?"
"Only if there's an emergency."
She nods. "I can do that." She uncrosses and recrosses her legs. "For how long?"
"Until one of us says when."
"That's it?"
"An easy out, anytime."
"If I say I'm done, you won't follow me on my next date?"
I want to promise that, but I don't trust myself. "I'll respect your wishes."
"Okay." She offers her hand. "It's a deal."
I take it. Shake.
It is a deal. We need to celebrate it. And I need to make sure she's ready to take orders. Here and elsewhere.
"Stand," I say.
She does.
"What are you wearing under that?"
"Underwear."
"Show me."
She pulls her dress up her thighs, showing a hint of her deep pink panties.
"Take them off."
She slides her panties to her ankles and kicks them off her feet.
"Come here."
She takes a step toward me. Another. Another.
I bring my hands to her hips and turn her around.
She gasps as I pull her into my lap. "Fuck." She rocks against me. "You're hard."
Very.
"Max. Please."
"Please?"
"I want to touch you."
"No."
A whine falls from her lips.
"Hands on the cushion."
She places her palms on the leather cushions.
"Keep them there, or I'll stop. Understand?"
"Yes."
"Spread your legs."
"Here?"
A demanding tone drops into my voice. "You beckoned me here."
"Yes."
"What did you imagine happening?"
"Everything."
"Specifically."
"Your hands on my skin, under my dress, on the dance floor. The two of us in some secluded corner, fucking against the wall. You, dragging me back to your place."
"Did you touch yourself?"
"Yes."
"How many times?"
"Once. But I came three times."
"When?"
"Last night."
"Was that the first time you thought of me?"
"No. Every night, since our first text."
Fuck. "Have you been with anyone else?"
"No."
"Do you want anyone else?"
"No."
"Good girl."
A purr falls from her lips.
"This is something you imagined?"
"Yes."
"But you're scared we'll be caught?"
"Yes."
"We won't."
"Someone could see," she says.
"Or hear. But there won't be trouble. Not here."
"What if we were somewhere else?"
"I'll protect you."
"You promise?"
"Always."
She nods with understanding.
"I won't ask twice again."
She pushes her knees apart.
I find the zipper of her dress and pull it down an inch at a time.
Opal groans as I roll her dress to her waist, exposing her breasts. She arches her back, rocking into me, rolling her ass against my pelvis.
My body begs me to relent, to toss her dress aside and fuck her right here, right now.
But I won't. Not tonight. I need to test her.
I need to test myself.
To make sure I can play by these rules.
To give my brain a chance to seize control from my dick.
Opal rocks her ass against my cock and my thoughts scatter. She feels good. Too fucking good. I need all of it.
But I need to wait too. To wait until it's nearly too much to take, until it is too much to take, until I want her more than I've ever wanted anything.
I'm already close—
In every fucking definition of the word.
This is too much friction.
I can't toy with her the way I want, for as long as I want, but this isn't the time or the place for that.
I cup her breasts with my hands, rolling my thumbs over her nipples.
She groans, rocking against me, digging her nails into the leather.
I bring my lips to her neck. Tease her with hard kisses and soft scrapes of my teeth.