I dropped the belt and moved forward to rub my hands over her pink flesh, soothing the sting of the strikes and fighting against every impulse in my body as I ached to take this further.
My dick was straining with a hungry, carnal need and as she pushed her ass back into my hands, I was sure she was craving the same thing.
My fingers slid over the red silk which covered her pussy and she ground back against me with a needy moan. I continued to stroke her flesh to sooth the bite of the belt, devouring the feeling of the heat beneath my fingers and the sounds pouring from her lips which said she wanted more from me. All of me.
“Fuck, Barbie, where the hell did you come from?” I groaned, forcing myself to pull back.
She turned to face me and I met her eye as she stepped closer.
“The bigger question, is why haven’t I left yet?” she breathed.
Her gaze dropped to the serious bulge in my pants and she looked up at me again with mischief in her gaze.
She stepped closer and I let her, wondering what she was going to do. What I’d let her do. If I was even capable of stopping her right now-
“We need to get to class,” she said, her breath washing over my lips as she looked up at me.
“You go,” I said, balling my fists to ensure I kept my hands off of her. “I have somewhere else to be.”
There was no fucking way I was doing a half day of classes. It was absolutely unthinkable. But there was something I could do to pass the time, and if I let myself believe that I’d always planned for the day to run this way, then maybe I could cope with the rest of the repercussions of my routine going to absolute shit.
Tatum looked at me in surprise for a moment, like she’d expected me to let my dick overrule my brain and beg for her to stay instead. And maybe I would have if it wasn’t for the rules. Because they were law. And if I broke them then I wouldn’t be able to calm the anarchy by spanking her or fucking her or doing anything at all. Breaking them would be like breaking myself. It was unthinkable. And if the price for that was a day spent imagining what might have happened if I didn’t have to stick to them so rigidly then so be it.
I placed my hands on the railing exactly where hers had been as she headed away to get dressed and I looked out through the enormous stained glass window in the shape of a cross at the front of the building as I tried to settle my mind.
Tatum came and went. I felt her eyes on me as she headed for the stairs but I couldn’t let myself look at her, my gaze fixed on the moving orange light of the stained glass as I worked to rid myself of the sexual tension she’d filled me with in place of my demon.
My gaze flitted to the clock and I released a shaky breath. One, eighteen. What the fuck?
I shoved away from the railing and headed downstairs, leaving my phone behind as I moved to grab a bottle of water from the fridge and kicked on a pair of sneakers by the door.
As I stepped outside, the cold winter air bit my bare chest but I welcomed the distraction of the discomfort as I took off up the path towards Ash Chambers.
I ran the whole way, pushing my body as hard as I could and revelling in the oblivion of exercise until I made it inside the building and found my way to Music Room C.
The sound of the piano being played reached me as I approached the door, but I didn’t give a damn. I wrenched it open and found the sub-standard music teacher, Mr Plotts, giving a lesson to some freshman asshole who was currently getting his Mozart and Bach mixed up and sounded like utter shit.
“Get the fuck out,” I commanded as they looked around in alarm and found me standing in the doorway like a half-naked heathen but I gave no shits.
“Mr Memphis! This is a pre-booked lesson,” Plotts began nervously, trying to pull off outrage while landing on terror.
“Am I about to make a new Unspeakable?” I asked, my gaze fixing on the freshman. “I’ll call you Eunuch and make sure that the name is accurate myself.”
“I’m actually feeling unwell,” the kid said, leaping up and grabbing his bag before Plotts could do a damn thing about it.
I smirked triumphantly as he scampered away and Plotts followed with a huff of frustration before I slammed the door behind them.
I released a long breath as I took my seat before the grand piano and cracked my neck as I laid my fingers down on the keys.
There was something about this room which set my mind at peace. The high ceiling and tall windows with their view over the lake beyond and the rich wood of the floorboards eased a sigh from my lips. There used to be a harp in the far corner of the room, but I’d had that removed in my freshman year and they’d placed a blood red chez lounge there instead.
Coming here the other night had reminded me of why I needed it so much, but it had also proven that I’d let myself get sloppy. I’d made too many mistakes. And that seriously fucked with my frame of mind. So I intended to sit here and play until my fingers were cramping and sweat poured down my spine and every piece I attempted was perfect.
And if I managed that, then, and only then, would I
