“And how soon do you want to be sent to me after today?” I ask, knowing the line I’m flirting with is dangerous as hell.
She leans even closer to me now and whispers in my ear. “First thing tomorrow morning. Hell, I’d stay in detention with you for the rest of the year, if that’s what it’s like.”
My cock grows in my pants and I lean back, searching for any sign of uncertainty in her honey brown eyes. She does not know how dangerous it is to toy with a man like me.
“Careful, little girl, you might just get torn apart,” I murmur back, placing my hand on her thigh and squeezing softly.
Her lips purse together and I see the way her pupils dilate almost the instant my hands are on her. My sadistic tendencies have always made me keenly attuned to a woman’s reaction to me, and right now I’m enjoying watching her cheeks redden and her chest rise and fall harder and faster with each breath she takes. Her pupils dilating so much I can’t be sure if it’s purely from desire or partially from fear, but, both are intoxicating.
My palm tingles on her leg as the desire to wrap it around her throat and feel her pulse quicken is so damn tempting, but I resist. After all, we’re in public right now.
Suddenly, Camilla stands, my palm falling off her thigh. “Excuse me a moment,” she says, before dashing away through the crowd toward the exit of the bar.
That’s right, little girl, run away before the monster destroys you. I give it a few moments and then stand and follow, not bothering to excuse myself. Chasing is one of the biggest thrills a sadist can experience and Camilla is playing right into my hands. I fear I can’t hold myself back much longer.
11
CAMILLA
Iwalk out of the bar to get some fresh air, as I’ve hardly been able to breathe with Professor Nitkin so close to me. For some crazy reason, I admitted to him I’ve been getting into trouble on purpose, but it’s like any time he demands anything from me I can’t deny him.
And so when he demanded the truth, I had to give it to him. It’s stifling in the bar, but I think it’s because of him and the way he looks at me that has me so hot under the collar.
I run a hand across the back of my neck and then lean against the cool brick wall, shutting my eyes. It feels good to get some fresh air, as it felt like I might suffocate inside.
“Problem, Morrone?”
His voice to my left makes me freeze in both fear and anticipation. The tone of it is so sinfully deep that it makes my thighs clench as I imagine all the dirty things I want him to do to me.
I plaster on a smile, but I know it doesn’t reach my eyes before turning to him. “I just needed some air.”
He arches a brow and walks closer to me, making goosebumps prickle over every inch of exposed skin. “I wouldn’t say it’s that warm in there.”
I swallow hard. “It is when I’m sat next to you.”
His gaze dips down the length of my dress suggestively before traveling back to my eyes. “Is that right?” He moves closer, making my heart pound harder against my rib cage. “Because you can’t stop thinking about my cock, can you, Miss Morrone?”
My tongue darts out over my lips as I wonder how the fuck I’m supposed to respond to that question. Honesty wins out. “No, sir. I can’t.”
The flash of delight in his eyes should scare me, but right now, I’m too aroused for fear. He glances through the glass front of the bar toward the table before nodding at an alleyway to the side. “Walk down there, now,” he orders.
The dominance in his tone is so damn alluring. I never knew that being ordered about could be so fucking hot. And yet he gives me an order and my entire body tingles with excitement at doing as I’m told and hearing him call me a good girl. I give him a nod and walk down the alleyway.
“Stop,” he orders.
I come to a halt, but don’t turn around. Every nerve in my body feels like it’s alight with excitement as I tremble a little, unable to stop my muscles from shaking. The anticipation damn near killing me, as all I can hear is my heavy breathing and the far off beat of the music in the bar. Professor Nitkin breathes so quietly I can’t even hear him and it makes me shudder.
“Are you scared, Miss Morrone?” he asks, his hand barely skating over my hip as he closes the gap between us.
“No, sir.”
He leans toward my ear, and his breath skates over it. “You should be.”
I tremble. “And why is that?”
“Because you’ve tempted a monster to come out and play, and the thing about monsters is they never play fair.” He grabs hold of my hips so hard it takes my breath away, spinning me around to face him.
Those hazel eyes almost shine in the dim light of the street lamps and I know as I look at him that I’ve never seen such a terrifyingly beautiful image in all my life.