Still.
I count to ten. Twenty. Thirty.
I give her the chance to steer the scene.
She doesn't.
She sits up straighter.
"Is there something you'd like?" I ask.
"Extra credit."
"I don't give out extra credit."
"Is that a policy?" Her eyes flit to mine. Her chest heaves with her inhale.
"A strict one."
"I can't convince you?" Her eyes travel down my body slowly. "I'm willing to do anything."
Fuck.
"I could be completely at your service."
"Completely?"
There's no hesitation in her voice. "Completely."
I need to match her. "Why should I consider you, Ms. Pierce?"
"I see the way you look at me." She stands. "Tell me you don't think about me." She pulls her blouse over her head and drops it on the floor. "Tell me you don't think about this."
"You have the wrong idea."
"Because you don't want me?"
"Because I don't cross the line."
"Never? Not even once?"
"Never."
She takes a half step toward me. "But you want to."
"No."
"No?" She reaches behind her back and undoes the hook of her bra. "I don't believe you."
This is it. The order she can disobey. The dare she can take. "Keep your clothes on."
She pushes the straps from her shoulders.
The nylon fabric falls on top of her blouse.
And there she is, Opal Pierce, in only her jeans in my bedroom.
So similar to where we've been.
But so far too.
"Don't defy me." I don't have the force I need in my voice.
But she takes it anyway. "Or?"
"Or I'll punish you."
"Then punish me." She undoes the button of her jeans and takes another step toward me.
I seize the opportunity. I meet her, hook my arm around her hip, push her onto the bed.
It's hard enough she bounces.
A gasp catches in her throat. She looks up at me, thrilled and certain and completely committed to this.
Fuck.
She's perfect.
She deserves better.
She deserves everything.
I'm here, and I'm giving her what I can.
It's not enough.
But it's what I have.
I move quickly. I follow her onto the bed. Grab her by the belt loops. Pull her down the bed.
Then up, so she's next to me.
I straighten and pull Opal over my lap, her forehead on the sheets, her stomach on my thighs, her ass in the air.
"You think you can tease me?" I place my hand low on her back. Softly, to start. A warning.
"Yes."
"You think you can tempt me?"
"Yes."
"Bad girl."
She turns her head.
"I will punish you." I press her a little harder, so she can feel my cock, hard against her stomach.
A groan falls from her lips. "Max—"
"Professor Morrison—"
"Please."
"Please, what?"
"I only want you."
"You want to defy me."
"No. I want to please you. However I can."
"Bad girl," I say it again.
A murmur of approval falls from her lips.
I keep one hand on her lower back. I hold her in place as I push her jeans off her hips.
Then the perfect pink panties.
Opal Pierce, bent over my knee, awaiting my punishment.
What the fuck happened to my life?
I push aside the absurdity. The fucked-up nature of our relationship. The expiration date.
I push aside everything except my desire to hurt her.
And please her.
And command her.
Everything she wants.
Everything I want.
"You want me to fuck you?" I press my palm into her back.
She reaches for something. Gets the sheets. "Yes."
"You think you can play with me?"
"Yes."
"No." I raise my hand and bring it down on her ass. It's hard enough to hurt, but barely.
"Yes."
"No." I do it again. A little harder. "I make the rules."
"Max—"
"Professor Morrison." My voice drops an octave.
"Professor—"
"You don't tempt me." I bring my hand down on her ass again. Hard. Hard enough to hurt.
"Fuck."
"I tempt you." Again. "I tease you." Again. "I play with you." Again.
Her breath hitches in her throat. "Professor—"
Again. "Yes?"
"Please."
Again. "Please."
"Please. Fuck me."
"No."
"Please."
I bring my hand on her ass hard. "Not until you learn respect."
She groans as I spank her again.
Again.
Again.
Harder.
Hard enough, she gasps.
Then yelps.
Hard enough to push her.
Again.
Again.
"Fuck." She tugs at the sheets.
She's at the brink of what she can take.
But, still, I bring my hand on her flesh again.
Again.
Again.
I raise my hand.
But this time, I bring it to her cunt.
No tease. No warning.
I slip two fingers inside her and push deep.
She groans as she takes me.
She's wet and ready, but still, I stretch her.
"Fuck. Ma—Professor."
The last bit of blood flees my brain. I need to be inside her, now. But I need to do this first.
I need every fucking thing I can have with her.
I drive my fingers into her with steady strokes.
She turns her head, squirming against my thighs as I work her.
Again and again—
Until I'm sure I've pushed her far enough.
Then I bring my thumb to her clit. A few strokes, and she's there, pulsing against my fingers, groaning my name as she comes.
I work her through her orgasm, then I push her onto the bed, on her stomach.
I pull her to the edge, spread her legs, hold her in place as I undo my belt and unzip my slacks.