Root Rot Academy: Term 3

by Rhea Watson

Eventually, when her rocking hips stuttered and her breath came harder, I slowed. Face scrunched and flushed, she teetered on the brink of a climax—and the sadist in me wanted to draw it out, flavor it with pain so that she really screamed.

  Instead, I eased off and braced on the back of the couch, the damn thing so small that most of me didn’t even fit, one foot on the floor, the other leg shoved under the back of the cushions. But Alecto fit on this altar of pleasure, and she owed a sacrifice for that honor.

  “Come for me,” I growled, flicking at her nipple, one and then the other, to shock her into opening her clenched lids. When she did, fiery gold blazed back, and my little one complied without question, rocking with intention now, bucking her hips with my cock buried deep.

  But that wasn’t what I wanted.

  I hoisted her leg up and spanked her as hard as I could.

  “With your hand,” I clarified as her eyes watered and her lips split into a sinful smile. “I want to watch you touch yourself.”

  She slipped a shaky hand between her thighs, working her clit under my unflinching supervision. At first, she seemed to touch herself for my pleasure, splaying her pussy lips open as best she could, swollen nub on display—but another hard, insistent smack to her already tender backside put a stop to that. With a blush that skittered down to her navel, Alecto tipped her head back and stroked herself with earnest, not for show. Not for anyone but herself, smoothing her fingers over her lips, circling her clit, bucking into the palm of her hand as her body constricted around me.

  Until the tether broke.

  Alecto splintered apart beneath me, around me, with a sob. She always made the most exquisite sounds when she climaxed, but this time they were accented by my hoarse groan as her pussy danced along my cock. Pleasure scorched bright and furious in my core, and I needed release soon or I’d fucking implode.

  I scooped my limp little one up and planted her on the back of the couch. Pleasure-addled and grinning, Alecto was pliant at first—but not for long. As soon as she stretched up along the wall, she came alive again, hands flying for my jumper, and together we wrestled it off and tossed it aside. From there, only skin-to-skin contact was acceptable, her curves flush against my torso. Light as a feather in my arms, I held her how I saw fit, an arm around her waist to hoist her off the couch, the other cut up her back to keep her from slamming into the wall.

  For the first time, I protected my girl from pain—so I could pound into her as ferociously as I liked.

  And I did.

  For the first time in a very, very, very long time, perhaps ever, I fucked a woman with no holds barred. Pounded into her without fearing my aggression would scare her off. I took her as I pleased for as long as it suited me, the beautiful creature mewling in my arms, writhing and gasping and whispering my name—not a nickname, not a scene name, but Jack—in my ear until I lost control.

  And for once, there was peace in surrender.

  I gripped Alecto tight as I spilled myself inside her, my face buried against her neck, her scent washing over me like a tidal wave. Her hands flitted everywhere: across my shoulders, over my back, into my buzzed hair, and along my scruffy cheek. She raked her nails up my sides when a second orgasm pulsed through her, less constrictive on my shaft than the first but somehow more powerful.

  Perhaps because in the short time since then, I felt so much more for her.

  Panting, smiling, cuddling, we held one another in the aftermath, bodies sweaty and mouths hungry in that languid sort of way that had us kissing lazily—like we had all the time in the world.

  And in that cozy sanctuary, I tugged my mask back on.

  Pretended that I wasn’t a sinking ship.

  That I hadn’t just burned her last life raft by sleeping with her.

  I didn’t care what happened to my heart when I pushed Alecto away to save her.

  I cared about hers.

  So deeply that my eyes prickled with tears I refused to shed, my chest suddenly clutched in a steely fist, twisting, twisting, twisting—

  “This place have a shower?” my little one murmured sleepily. I cleared my throat and nuzzled into her neck again.

  “Barely.”

  Blissfully unaware of the storm ramping up inside, Alecto hugged me tight and sighed. “Give me a tour, Sir.”

  “You don’t give the commands, brat,” I rumbled against her skin, unable to resist dragging an openmouthed kiss up her neck and nibbling at her earlobe. As she giggled and squirmed, I set my chin on her shoulder, hating myself.

  “Yes I do. Brats make all the commands.”

  I allowed myself a moment to smile, to enjoy what we had left before I extinguished the only good thing I had ever desired with all my heart and soul.

  For I had desired much in my life: power, prestige, wealth.

  Alecto Clarke stood leagues above all that.

  But I could ruin her life if I didn’t unhook her from my line and gently lower her back into the sea.

  “Yes,” I whispered, eyes closed, heart crumbling, “I suppose you do.”

  Finally, a familiar sinking feeling dragged me down, down, down…

  Gods forgive me, but I had to cut her loose.

  13

  Alecto

  “Please take this in the respectful way it’s intended…”

  I stopped toweling my hair dry, heart suddenly in my throat, panic squeezing tight like an over-laced corset. Because, you know, nothing that followed an opening like that was ever good. Definitely not the kind of conversation starter a girl wanted to hear after mind-blowing sex, anyway.

  “But I don’t think you should visit anymore.”

  And there it was.

  Bomb dropped.

  Finally.

  I might not have known Jack as well as I did the other two men in my life, but I had a good enough read of him to sense something was off when we took things beyond the scene. At the time, the reason for the pained look on his face, his hesitation, him gritting his teeth through what should have been a beautiful moment—it had been for me, anyway—remained a mystery. He hadn’t wanted to discuss it; fair enough. I let it go.

  Lost myself in him.

  Not my Dom and not my boss—him.

  The shared shower after had been adorably hilarious, the stall way too small to fit Jack, never mind both of us. But we had tidied up together. He even washed my hair, taking such painstaking care to be gentle with me that it hurt.

  And now we were here.

  The air… tense.

  The mood heavy.

  I hadn’t shown up planning to have sex with him. Wednesday nights were usually a dull affair of work and background TV and a glass or two of wine with Bjorn.

  But I’d finished my work early for once—and Gavriel had offered to take me to the village. Out of nowhere. Away from Benedict. Away from Iris’s barbaric rules. Away from hollow-eyed students. Away from all the shit at Root Rot that made me want to pull my hair out.

  “D’you fancy a visit with Jack?” Just like that. Obviously he and Bjorn had been discussing it, because the fae wouldn’t have asked otherwise, but they knew I missed him.

  I did.

  Gods, I really did, more than I’d thought. Seeing him tonight at his door had felt like drawing a gloriously deep breath of the freshest air. Sure, we hadn’t been up each other’s asses even on a good day at the academy, but I liked that about us. Jack was my independent tomcat who came home when he was ready, but when he did, I got all of him, the pieces of his soul no one else could even dream of.

  When our spanking scene tonight neared its natural end, I’d gone with my gut.

  Acted with my heart.

  Kissed him because I couldn’t imagine not doing it, just once, before I left again for gods only knew how long.

  Intuition had steered me right with Bjorn and Gavriel, we three a permanent trio around campus now, Bjorn by my side so long as the sun was set and Gavriel blissfully unaware of flirtatious glances from new hires.

  Th
at wasn’t the case here.

  At some point, my gut had led me astray with Jack.

  And I needed to know why.

  “Okay.” Wearing my dress and nothing else, stockings and bra and shoes forgotten, panties destroyed, I loitered in the flat’s much-too-narrow bathroom doorway—so narrow Jack had to turn sideways to fit through. “Okay, uh… Okay.” With a soft sigh, I flung the towel over the open door, then absently scrunched my wet curls. “Just give me a second.”

  Jack remained still and stoic, a statue of an obsidian god over by the kitchenette. Shirtless, wearing nothing but a snug pair of grey sweats, he leaned back against the counter with his arms crossed and his expression steely. Despite the sullen look, he was such a scrumptious hunk of man. Huge and muscular. Toned. Broad. Midnight-dipped and just a little intimidating. His eyes had always been the blackest part of him, but the closer we got, the more I noticed the streaks of gold through the onyx, which suited him perfectly.

  A little scary on the outside—but pure gold on the inside. Jack Clemonte was so much more than any of them knew.

  A part of me had always worried I wasn’t complex enough for him.

  Barefoot, I padded over and perched on the armrest of his pullout—which had taken quite the beating only a half hour ago.

  Hell, it probably ached just as bad as I did, my pussy pounded raw, the rest of me deliciously sore.

  I fidgeted with my dress, tugging it down my thighs as I settled in and crossed my legs, then gestured to him with a nod. “Proceed.”

  Jack’s dark brows furrowed. “Excuse me?”

  “Give me the reason,” I told him, prying the emotion from my tone in case it betrayed just how much his comment about not visiting had hurt. He always responded to my emotion—and to lay it on him now, for this conversation, felt manipulative. “You don’t get to just say something like that after what happened tonight, and then, you know, that’s that. No.”

  “What exactly do you want me to say—”

  “Just be real with me, Jack.” We had that in common: we wore masks for everyone. We kept the rest of the world at bay by being workaholics. No more. I’d shed my mask for Bjorn and Gavriel and life got a whole lot easier. Time for Jack and me to do the same. “No Dom-sub stuff. No headmaster-professor stuff. Just tell me how you feel about me. Not what you think is right. Not what you think you should feel. Be honest.”

  With past flings who I really didn’t give a shit about but thought I should if I wanted to be a healthy adult, I would have taken his silence for an answer. It wouldn’t wound me back then like it did now. I’d wipe my hands clean of him and move on.

  Instead, I gave Jack time and space to collect his thoughts—to give me something I could work with.

  But that dragged on for a fucking eternity.

  Sure, it might have only been a minute, a long sixty seconds of listening to the muffled comings and goings of the pub below, but it felt like years.

  “Do you want to know how I feel about you?” I asked softly. Rugged jaw clenched, Jack looked away, like suddenly his sad little kitchenette was so fascinating.

  “Not really.”

  Ouch. My cheeks hollowed, then burned. Jack had never slapped me in a scene, but those two measly little words carried a similar sting.

  “Well—” I crossed my arms, mirroring him, frustration heating the nape of my neck as I glared. “—sucks to suck, doesn’t it?”

  Jack’s eyes narrowed. “What?”

  “You are kind.”

  “Alecto, stop—”

  “And strong,” I pressed, smoothing my hands over my thighs to wipe the cold sweat away. We might have just had sex for the first time. I might have let my headmaster see me nearly naked months ago, paddle me and spank me and flog me, but sharing this with him, cutting out a piece of my heart to show him—proof that it beat for him—exposed more of me than anything we’d done before. “You’re passionate about what you do and the people around you. You’re driven, and you have no idea how hot that is—to find someone just as intense about their job as I am. Someone who wants to, to…” I shook my head, searching for the right words amidst the scattered thoughts pinging around my skull. “Someone who wants to grow and improve and be better in their career… I feel that. I love that.”

  “Please, stop—”

  “You’re funny without trying to be,” I blurted. No one else might think so, but Jack had this way about him that made me smile. To the rest, he was stuffy Jack Clemonte. To me, he was the first rays of sunlight in the morning. “You scare me a little… You always have, but it makes me feel brave. And I really do miss you around the castle. I miss knowing you’re there, even if we aren’t together. I miss feeling independent despite having this soft place to land on a bad day…”

  When I finally risked a glance his way, I found him staring at the floor.

  Glaring at the floor.

  Tight and hard and standoffish.

  What the actual fuck.

  Once again, I gave him time to digest—time to come up with something, anything, that would make me feel just a little safer than I did right now.

  Nothing.

  Patience dwindling, I threw my hands up with a groan. “Are you fucking serious?” His stormy gaze snapped at me, foul language baiting him like chum in shark-infested waters. Only the giddy spark that usually accompanied that look fell flat. “Are you really not going to say anything?”

  “Alecto,” he rumbled, his baritone just as flat—defeated, almost. “I’m an anchor right now. If you attach yourself to me, I’ll drag you down.”

  I crinkled my nose.

  I mean. What a fucking weird way to phrase it.

  Attach myself to him? What?

  My thoughts must have read loud and clear in my expression, because he finally faced me with a scowl. “Well, you asked—”

  “Have you ever considered that I might not let you sink?” He wasn’t an anchor. Despite everything going on right now, Jack Clemonte was not an anchor.

  “You can’t promise that,” Jack fired back, the shake of his head and that soft smile only a little patronizing, “nor can you actually do it. You have no idea what attaching yourself to me entails.”

  “Oh my gods, stop saying it like that—like I’m a fucking barnacle or something.” I took a deep breath to recenter. “I care about you.”

  “You’re infatuated with your first Dom and nothing more.”

  I flinched at the second word-slap of the night. “That’s not true.”

  “Isn’t it?” he asked roughly.

  No. The fact that we shared a common, mutually beneficial kink didn’t factor into my feelings. Sure, it made me more attracted to him, but the fact that he assumed I was so shallow hurt.

  Glowering, I pushed off the couch and stood tall before him. “I’ll never do a scene with you again if that’s what you think. If it means I get to be with you, fine. No kink. No more pain.”

  His dismissive chuckle made my hackles rise, but before I could bark back at him, he held up a hand and drew a breath, as if finally ready to make his official statement.

  “I’m sorry,” he insisted, his hand to his heart, his expression so genuine it made me doubt my ability to turn this around. “I’m not laughing at you—just the situation we’re in… I’m a bastard for letting it go this far, and I really, truly apologize, Alecto.”

  “Uh, what—”

  “You’re young and beautiful,” Jack told me, his tone gentle but annoyingly assertive, like he was so sure of his decision. “You’re brilliant and determined. Exceptionally brave and painfully loyal to those who are lucky enough to be close to you. Stubborn. Cheeky.” His lips twitched into a short-lived smile. “Infuriating, sometimes, but that’s part of the charm. I can’t imagine it any other way, honestly…”

  I perked up, hopeful, wondering if things were about to turn in my favor.

  “You can have anyone you want,” he insisted, and that hope died—because he was about to push me away, shove m
e toward someone else.

  I already had my someone elses.

  I wanted him, too.

  “I want you,” I snapped, which only had him shaking his head again.

  “It’s a bad idea.” Jack scratched the back of his neck, his body language uncertain for the first time in… well, ever. He was always so confident—or, at the very least, secure in the way he presented himself to the rest of the world. “If I lose my appeal, I’m nothing. Just a disgrace. You shouldn’t—”

  “The fact that you think I give a shit about whether or not you’re headmaster,” I growled, insulted at the insinuation, “or what people say about you, or whatever, shows you haven’t been listening even a little.”

  And Jack was so good at listening.

  He listened to what I wasn’t saying most of the time. This wasn’t the warlock who had comforted me the night the ground fell out from under my feet in November, and it was starting to really piss me off.

  “It will hurt now,” he reasoned, sounding all rational and logical and ugh, “but in the long run, this will spare us both a great deal of heartache… I promise. This is best for you.”

  I sputtered back at him, struggling to find the words to combat this absolute, utter horseshit. “No—”

  “You don’t see it now, but in time—”

  “Don’t lecture me like you’re some wise old crone,” I snapped, pointing an accusatory finger at him and wishing I could jab it right in the middle of his ridiculously firm, steely pecs. Stupid… hot, distracting body. Put a shirt on if we’re going to fight. “Jack Clemonte, you are barely ten years older than me. Gavriel and Bjorn are fucking immortal. They’ve got centuries on both of us, and neither of them have ever pulled that age crap before, so don’t you even start.”

  He reared back like I’d done the slapping this time. “But you have them. You don’t need me—”

  “It’s not about need,” I cried, seconds away from ripping out my slowly frizzing curls. “Stop being purposefully obtuse! Is it so impossible to imagine I might like you? Period. I. Like. You. I have feelings for you.” I shouldn’t. It was more complicated for us than the others given our professional dynamics, but my heart had stopped caring about that a long time ago. “Yeah, the kink is fun and the sex, uh, you know, awesome.” Fuck. I pressed my hands to my cheeks to hide the sudden furious blush. “But I want more than that. I want you. I want to know about your childhood. I want to go on a date, even if it’s literally just downstairs to the pub. I want to go wine tasting and see you when you’re tipsy. I want to go jogging in the rain and hiking in the moors. I want you to tear my lesson plans to shreds and make them better. I want to learn from you, and I want to make you let fucking loose a little…”