I swallow, trying to tame the beating of my erratic heart. I lift my eyebrow. “I’d like to see you try.”
Lust confiscates Lucas’s features. “Now, you really shouldn’t have said that.” He snakes his hand up, moving underneath the waistband of my shorts, slipping past my panties, and cups my sex. His fingers deftly find my clit, and I bite my lip, moving my legs wider for him.
He starts in slow swirls. For a moment, I dart my eyes frantically around the room, making sure no one is paying any attention to us. The professor is no longer pretending to watch the movie either. She’s dozing off in the corner of the room, and—
Lucas quickens the pace. My fingers are white knuckling the desk at this point as I try to rein everything in. He leans toward me, keeping his next words just from his lips to my ear. “You’re so fucking wet. I want to drop to my knees right now, in front of everyone, until you’re screaming my name. Do you think they’d mind?” When I don’t answer him, he stops. I let out a breath and glare at him. He starts in lazy circles again, my body practically begging for it. “Answer me,” he demands. “Do you think they’d mind?”
I nod because I don’t trust my voice.
“There you go,” he urges. He watches my profile, lips pouting. “I wonder what an unrestrained Dakota sounds like. Maybe I should wait.”
He starts to pull his fingers away from me, but I let go of the desk and grab his wrist. I slide my hand down his, moving him along with it until I’m pushing his fingers back on me. He swirls his fingers again, rhythmic strokes that are threatening to make me explode right here, right now.
“Look at me,” he purrs.
I close my eyes, press my lips together, and turn my head toward him. Removing all stimuli but Lucas and his fingers has me biting down on my lip. My eyelids flutter open. His eyes are everything. They’re like dark spheres in the shadowy room. He’s highlighted by shade-drawn windows, but it may as well only be the two of us in here.
He eyefucks me. They say everything his body wants to do as he rubs my clit into submission. Teasing it. Giving her everything she’s been without lately. His nimble fingers work as he watches my every move. He sees every tightening of my shoulders, every noise of pleasure I want to make.
My body doesn’t care that we’re in a classroom. It doesn’t care that there are witnesses right next to us who only have to turn their heads to see what’s happening. She’s greedy, and she wants him.
“You’re beautiful,” he whispers.
He tightens the circle around my clit, flicking the nub faster and faster. I plunge into the moment where there’s no turning back. Whatever reckless decisions led to this, I’m about to orgasm in the middle of our mythology class.
The moment hits, and my eyes close. I throw my head back, practically biting the inside of my cheek raw, so I don’t cry out. I’m suspended for a moment. The pleasure licking at me again and again in ruthless waves. Lucas touches my hand, and I open my eyes to find him staring, face softening as he watches me come down from the restrained high he forced me into.
My heart beats a dangerous rhythm as we stare at each other. Our eyes connect in disbelief and something much more carnal. If he’s like me, he’s wondering how we got this far. Each one of us pushing the other until I couldn’t have made him stop even if I’d wanted to. I chased that orgasm down. I wanted it. In its aftermath is a lucid sort of confusion.
I’m supposed to hate him.
Lucas swallows. “Mine,” he growls, squeezing my forearm. I tilt my head at him, but he just moves back into our private bubble. “Next time that happens, I’m balls deep inside you, Wild Girl.”
He pulls his hand out but doesn’t move away. He stays where he is, his shoulder brushing mine. I peek over at his lap, and he’s hard again. He doesn’t touch it. He doesn’t acknowledge it. He doesn’t throw me over his shoulder and run for the nearest bathroom. It takes the rest of class and what looks like some supreme willpower, but eventually, Lucas is fit to see other people without them knowing how turned on he is when class ends.
The overhead lights flicker on like harsh spotlights, yet the spell hasn’t broken. It’s nowhere near disintegrating. We stay in our seats, the class emptying out. The teacher dawdles, picking up her things and waiting. When Lucas just gives her a blank stare, she shakes her head and exits the room.
In a nanosecond, he’s leaning over me, kneeling on his chair with one hand on my desk and the other on the back of my seat. He lowers himself, and I watch as he descends, half fear and half lurid curiosity eating at me. I don’t move. I can’t move. He hovers his lips over mine. “You surprised me. No one surprises me.” And then he kisses me. His hungry lips part my own. He thrusts his tongue inside, taking over. He moves his hand to the back of my head where he holds me to him, fingers keeping me firmly in place as he obliterates my precious mind.
I may never be able to fantasize again.
I kiss him back with the same fervor. It’s raw and demanding, yet still practiced perfection. He kisses me and kisses me. Minutes pass. Eons. His lips collide with mine over and over until his phone vibrates in his pocket. He groans into my mouth, pulling away like it pains him.
I stare at him in shock, waiting for him to say something nasty. To tell me that this is all a joke. I half-expect the door to open and for Wyatt and Stone to pop
