“I need to know everything,” I tell her as we laugh our way into the room and find our desks. I’m thankful for her friendship. At least with Marleigh, I can still enjoy my time in Black Mountain.
And of course, there is another reason that this small town has been a welcome distraction from the past, and his name is Elian Donati.
28
Elian
The class files in as the afternoon takes hold of the day, and I watch each student until I see her. The way her hair bounces in the ponytail, along with those slender legs, has my attention wrapped around her. Arabella doesn’t look at me; instead, she smiles at her friend before they settle into their seats. Last night has been on my mind since I opened my eyes this morning, and I still can’t believe she allowed me to take her so roughly. There’s a slight bruise on her neck where my mouth had been only hours ago, and she hasn’t hidden it.
“Good afternoon, class,” I greet them as they fall silent, their eyes on the front of the room as they focus on me. The stack of papers in my hands will ensure a few groans echoing in the room shortly. “Today, we’re having a pop quiz on the chapters we went over this week. I trust everyone is ready for this.” I can’t help grinning at the shuffling and unease that fills the classroom as they shift in their seats.
Moving toward the desks, I stop at each one, setting down the thick wad of pages that will soon be filled with scribbles and notes that are hopefully correct answers. When I reach Arabella’s desk, I can’t help but inhale deeply, taking in her perfumed scent.
The connection between us is evident when I set the pages down and her hand brushes along mine. Nothing about this is right. And if anyone were to look across at us, they would most definitely be able to tell from just the slight movement of her fingers along mine. It’s more intimate than I care to admit.
The hunger I’ve felt for her since she first slammed into my chest has me wondering if my plans should be stifled. Revenge is a bittersweet emotion, and breaking her may just hurt me. I move on, the students shifting in their seats as they take in the first page of the quiz.
“You have an hour,” I inform them as I make my way back to my desk. As I settle in to mark the previous class’s quiz, I can’t stop my attention from seeking her out, my gaze landing on her slender legs, and as she slowly opens her thighs, I have to cough to stifle a groan of pleasure at the sight before me.
She’s seated herself in the front row, and from the soft pink material between her thighs, I can tell she’s done it just to taunt me. Turning my attention to the papers on the desk, I settle in for the next sixty minutes, but every so often, my gaze rakes up, and I catch a glimpse of legs and pink.
By the time class is over, I’m hard as fucking stone. As they rise, heading toward my desk, I don’t stand. Instead, I allow them to set their papers on the desk before exiting the room. But when Arabella reaches me, I glance up, locking my gaze on hers.
“I’d like to see you once everyone has left, please,” I tell her, loudly ensuring the rest of the remaining students heard, including her best friend, Marleigh. The flash of annoyance on Arabella’s face causes me to grin as I settle back in my chair, still hiding my thickened erection.
As soon as we’re alone, I push to my feet and lean over the desk. Her pretty, stormy gaze flickers with uncertainty when my face comes close to hers.
“Close that fucking door,” I bite out, gesturing with my chin toward the exit, which is now empty from the last body who’s left my class. The click of the lock echoes loudly in the vast room.
Arabella returns to the desk where I’m perched on the edge, and I notice how her eyes land on the bulge in my slacks. Those lashes flutter, and I wonder if she’s remembering what we did last night.
“Did you enjoy your little show?” I question, crossing my arms as I regard her with a narrowed gaze.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she sasses me, which doesn’t help my frustration. Her hip juts out, and even though she’s attempting to show her confidence, there’s still a hint of uncertainty in her stance.
“Take your panties off.”
Her mouth falls open, but she recovers quickly. “What?”
“You heard me.” I keep my expression schooled, but I want to smile. I want to laugh at the shyness so evident on those rosy cheeks.
Slowly, her hands inch under her skirt and then the scrap of material that covered her pussy falls at her feet. Arabella steps out of the item of clothing before picking it up and holding onto it. When I reach my hand out, her mouth drops into an O, but she doesn’t argue. She knows better than to disobey. The small, cotton panties in my palm feels like a bomb about to go off.
I lift it to my nose, inhaling her scent, which only makes my dick jolt with need to sink into her. When I open my eyes, I crook my finger, calling her closer. She squares her shoulders, tipping her chin up as she walks toward me. My free hand reaches under the skirt, which I know she’s shortened, and I cup her pretty cunt, my middle finger sinking into the wet heat I find at her center.
“This is your punishment for that display earlier,” I tell her as I pump my finger in and out
