by T. K. Leigh
“Why am I not surprised?” I murmur in a sly voice, placing them into his palm.
He clutches my bicep, spinning me around, binding my body against his. “You’re already in trouble, Miss Davenport. Shall I increase your penalty?” He slides a leisurely hand down my stomach, which only serves to heighten the pressure building inside me, growing more excruciating with the passing of each second.
When his finger slides beyond my hipbone, I discreetly part my legs. “And what penalty is that?”
“Maybe I won’t let you come,” he warns, his teeth skimming against my neck, a dull ache from where he’d marked me. “That should serve as sufficient motivation to follow my rules.”
“No,” I beg, desperate. “Not that. Anything but that.”
“Anything?” he repeats, amused.
“Anything.” The idea of being left in this state for the next several hours is enough to drive me mad. I need to get off. And soon.
He turns me around, his grin mischievous. “I do have something else in mind. Something I’ve been thinking about for quite some time now.”
“And what’s that?”
“You’ll see.” He brings my panties up to his nose and makes a show of inhaling, shivering dramatically before shoving them into the pocket of his pants. “Have you ever used a safe word?”
“I have.”
“And have you ever been spanked?”
“I have.”
He nods, seemingly unaffected by my response, as if I’d just told him I’ve been to Florida, not that I’ve been tied up, spanked, or blindfolded.
“I won’t be too harsh. Not today anyway. We’ll start slow, since we’ve never really explored much of this together. If you’re not ready, that’s okay, too,” he adds quickly, cupping my face, my sweet, compassionate Lincoln returning. “I would never force you into doing something you’re not ready for. It won’t make me want to be with you any less. Okay?”
I simply stare at him, my expression even, not giving anything away. Then I rid myself of his hold, stepping past him.
“Chloe, I—”
When I glance over my shoulder with a sly smile and wink, he snaps his mouth shut, his eyes filling with wanton lust as he watches me crawl onto the mattress, my ass exposed to him.
As I wait in anticipation, the room becomes eerily silent, apart from my labored breathing, and I stare at the black-and-white print of the Brooklyn Bridge hanging over the headboard.
When I feel Lincoln’s finger draw a line down my spine, I peek back at him standing to the side of the bed, his jacket and vest discarded.
“You’re sure?”
I nod subtly.
“I need you to say it, Chloe. I need more than a nod.”
“I’m sure. I want this.”
His mouth quirks into a smile as he pulls away, loosening his tie. But just as soon as it appeared, the light expression vanishes.
“Face forward.”
Like a trained pet, I oblige, jerking my eyes forward, the snap of his tie ripping from his neck as formidable as the crack of leather against skin. He brings the silk-like material up to me, using it to shroud my world in darkness. Without the sense of sight, everything else is heightened. Smell. Sound. Touch. Feel.
The shiver from his finger tracing a line from my nape down my spine nearly unhinges me. Such an innocent touch, barely there. But the depth of it hits places on my body I never knew existed.
The bed dips and my breathing increases, my heavy pants echoing in my ears. The heat of him prickles my skin as he leans over me, his teeth lightly pulling on my earlobe.
“If it’s too much, say…panties.”
“Panties?”
“Fitting, don’t you think?”
I smile, a break in the charged atmosphere. “I couldn’t think of a more appropriate word.”
He turns my head toward his, covering my mouth, treating me to a taste of him, before he pulls away, resuming the role he’s here to play.
The sound of a belt buckle loosening finds its way to my ears, followed by his zipper. I hold my breath, bracing myself for whatever’s to come. But nothing does, the room still.
One second. Then another. And another. When I’m about to remove the blindfold, a hard slap lands across my ass, the shock of it causing me to scream and bury my head in the pillow. Not out of pain, but in unbridled ecstasy, my body craving more of his brutal touch, his stinging hand, his punishing caress.
I don’t even notice how much I’m shaking until Lincoln grips my hips, steadying me. He covers my frame with his, his hands gliding down my arms, his fingers linking with mine.
“Are you okay?” His breathing is hard, labored.
“Yes.”
“Good girl.” He leaves a jarring kiss on my neck before pushing himself up, his touch gone.
I take several deep breaths, moaning when he lands another blow to my other cheek, harder this time. But it makes me burn for him even more. He brings his hand back to me, massaging my ass, then sliding a few fingers between my legs, pushing inside, stretching and massaging.
“Does spanking turn you on?”
“Yes.” I move against his fingers, on the brink of shattering. I’m unprepared for him to withdraw and slap my ass once more.
“Yes what?” he growls.
“Yes, sir,” I yell, gripping the sheets, my muscles tight.
“Better.” He slides a finger back inside me and I move against him, my mind a haze.
“Don’t come,” he whispers in a gruff voice. “Not yet. I want to feel your pussy clench around my cock, not my hand.”
“Then you’d better hurry because I’m ready to fall apart.”
His chest hair tickles my back, his breath hot against my flesh. “Condom or no condom?”
“No condom.”
“Good girl,” he says again, removing his fingers.
He lifts his arousal up to me and runs his tip around my slickness, but doesn’t slide inside, torturing me even more.
“Lincoln…,” I moan.
He fists my hair, yanking my head back. “What did you call me?”
“I mean… Professor Moore,” I stammer.
“Better. I shouldn’t let you come from that little slip-up,” he muses, pulling his erection away.
“No!”
He bites my neck. “Then beg for me,” he orders, his mouth never leaving my skin, jarring and bruising.
I squeeze my eyes shut, my entire body stiffening as I breathe through the ache. “Please, Li… Professor Moore.”
“Please what?” His bite becomes even more harsh, but still makes me hunger for him. I fear the second he pushes into me, I’ll implode into a thousand tiny pieces. “Tell me what you want.”
“Please fuck me.” My voice is even, but still laced with desperation.
“Good girl.” He loosens his grip, his tongue tracing gentle circles where his teeth just dug into my skin. “Or perhaps I should say bad girl.”
“You know what they say, don’t you?”
“What’s that?” he asks, amused.
“Good girls go to heaven. But bad girls—”
“Bad girls make you feel like you’re in heaven,” he finishes as he thrusts into me. “And this is most certainly heaven.” He kisses my shoulder blade, not moving as he fills me to the hilt. “You are my heaven.”
He slowly retreats before pushing back into me, going even deeper. This torturous rhythm continues as he plunges into me in a punishing drive, stills for several agonizing moments before withdrawing, almost like he knows I’m close to losing my mind and is prolonging my pleasure.
His hand massages my ass, making me moan. Then he lands a hard blow at the same time as he pushes into me. The combination of the agony and ecstasy has my heart racing. If there weren’t a blindfold obscuring my vision, I’d be blind from sensation.
The pattern continues, bringing me to the edge, only to slow down, waiting until I’ve recovered before thrusting and slapping again. Each thrust, each slap i
s more punishing, more enthralling, more addicting, making me cry out louder, my legs to shake more violently.
“Harder,” I beg, so close to unraveling.
“Like this?” His breathing labored, he reels back, the force of his blow and drive pushing me forward.
“Harder!” I bite the pillow to muffle my cries.
He stills, preparing for his next assault, which is more brutal, yet erotic.
“Harder!” I scream once more, unsure how much more I can take, but I’m willing to find out, to test my limits.
Like a beast unleashed, he drives into me, pressing his hand to my back, keeping me locked in place so my pleasure is completely at his mercy. But the buildup to this moment was so intense, so drawn-out, it doesn’t take long for me to fall over the edge, crying out his name as forceful waves of ecstasy wash over me, my legs trembling as I come undone.
“Fuck, Chloe.” His words come out almost like a strangled plea. He increases his rhythm even more before he stills, clutching my hips as he finds his own release.
We remain motionless as we attempt to get our breathing under control, my body still shivering through the aftereffects of what is probably the most body-numbing orgasm I’ve ever had. Being with Lincoln has always been an adventure. He’s able to satisfy me in a way I never thought possible. But this… This may be the hottest experience to date.
Looping an arm around my waist, he slowly pulls out, then helps me roll onto my back. When he unfastens my blindfold, I’m met with blazing green eyes.
“Hey,” he says sweetly.
“Hey.” I reach up, running my fingers through his hair, my arm quivering from muscle fatigue. Grabbing my hand to help steady it, he closes his eyes, arching into the touch before returning his gaze to mine.
“How was that?”
“Hot. Insanely hot.”
“Are you sore?”
“A little.” I curve toward him, brushing my lips with his. “But just think. Every time you see me squirming in class because of how uncomfortable those hard chairs are, you’ll know it’s because of you.”
“I would offer to bring my office chair in for you, but I fear more students might expect the same treatment.”
“There are quite a few girls who I’m sure would love for you to tie them up and spank them,” I jest, although my statement’s not a complete lie.
He wraps his arms around me, and I kick off my heels, allowing them to fall to the floor with a load thump. “I was talking about bringing a chair in. You’re the only one I want to tie up and spank.”
“Good,” I say drowsily, closing my eyes, and he covers our bodies with the duvet.
“Good.” His soft kiss on my temple is a stark contrast from his earlier dominance. I love that this man can give me both. He can be fire and ice. Harsh and endearing. Wicked and honorable.
And he’s all mine.
“Can I ask you something?” I press after a few moments of silence.
“Anything. Except where Jimmy Hoffa’s buried. I’m sworn to secrecy on that one.”
I turn around, playfully pinching him in the side as I snuggle into his chest. “Why did you want to do this?”
“Have sex with you?” He touches my chin, forcing my eyes to meet his. “In case I haven’t made myself clear, I am absolutely addicted to you.”
“Not that. I meant the whole role-playing thing. Well, technically, it’s not exactly role-play with us.”
“True,” he responds thoughtfully. “It’s not. I guess I didn’t want this to become an elephant in the room between us. Is our situation ideal? Far from it. When we’re together like this, I want to be able to be us and not worry about life outside these walls.” He returns his mouth to mine and pushes me onto my back, hovering over me, resting his weight on his forearms. “And I’ve been fantasizing about some role-play with you ever since I met you.”
“Is that right?”
He leisurely licks his lips, his gaze darkening once more. “That’s right.”
“And what kinds of things did you have in mind?”
“Oh, you know…” The corners of his mouth twitch up in a flirtatious grin as he lowers himself, dragging his tongue along my collarbone, traveling farther south before tugging on my nipple. “The usual.”
“And what’s that?”
“Doctor-patient. Boss-secretary. The virgin college freshman.” He moves to my other breast, giving it the same treatment. I close my eyes, hooking my leg around his waist, feeling his erection slowly return to life. “But I am certainly partial to professor-student, especially after today.” He covers my mouth with his, trailing a hand down my torso before sinking a finger inside, my body reigniting.
“Oh, Professor.”
Chapter Thirty-Five
“Chloe,” a tender voice says, rousing me from one of the most erotic dreams I’ve had in quite some time.
I slowly blink my eyes open, taking in my unfamiliar surroundings. The instant my gaze locks on Lincoln, I realize it wasn’t a dream. This afternoon was real. Lincoln lured me into a hotel room for the sole purpose of having hot, naughty sex.
“Here.” He extends his hand, revealing two ibuprofen. “This will help with, well…any discomfort.”
I scoot up, wincing, my ass sore. But I’d gladly suffer through this pain again, the pleasure I experienced still making me feel like I’m on a high.
“What time is it?” I place the pills on my tongue, then grab the bottle of water he holds out, taking a sip.
“After two thirty. We need to get to class.”
“Uh-oh.” Passing him a coquettish look, I reach for his tie that served as a blindfold mere hours ago. “It appears I’m going to be late again.” I yank him toward me, my words coming out breathy. “Perhaps I need a reminder of your rather strict tardiness rules.”
“Perhaps you do.” He crushes his lips against mine, his tongue plunging into my mouth as sparks shoot through me. I rake my fingers along his back, about to push his jacket off his shoulders when he abruptly pulls away, adjusting his belt. “But at a later date.”
“Oh, really?” I roll onto my side, propping my head in my hand as I narrow my eyes on his crotch. “From where I’m standing, you’re hungry for more.”
“I’ll always want more of you.” He brings his hand to my cheek, lovingly brushing his thumb along the skin. “My sweetest addiction. But we still need to go.”
“Ugh…” I throw my legs over the side of the bed. “So serious.”
He flashes a beautiful smile my way, then his expression falls as I turn to grab the dress he placed neatly over a chair, his attention focusing on my ass.
“Chloe, I—”
I press my mouth to his before he can utter another word. “Don’t. I liked it. Actually, I really liked it. I don’t want you to feel bad because then you won’t want to do it again. And I really want you to do that again.” With a bounce in my step, I head toward the bathroom. “But next time, you be the doctor. I’ll be the patient, and you can give me a very thorough exam.”
I close the door behind me, grinning to myself when I hear him curse under his breath.
Aware of what a stickler Lincoln is for being on time, I hurriedly run a washcloth over my body and freshen my appearance so I don’t look like I’ve just been fucked, especially on my first day back to class after missing three weeks. A bruise has already formed on my neck, teeth marks visible, so I smooth my hair over my shoulder, covering it as best I can.
When I emerge into the bedroom, Lincoln’s re-adjusting his tie. He appears just as put together as he did when I first walked into this hotel room, apart from his hair, which has a mussed-up, just-fucked look.
Sauntering up to him, I bring my hands to his neck, helping to straighten his tie. “Every time I look at you and see this tie, I won’t be able to stop thinking about the things you did to me when you used it as a blindfold.”
“That’s the point.” He waggles his brows.
I touch my mouth to his, then allow him
to help me into my jacket. After a quick check to make sure I have everything, apart from my panties, he walks me to the door. “Thanks for this afternoon.”
With a smile, I lift myself onto my toes, kissing him. “Thank you.”
He pulls back the door, holding it open for me. I step into the hallway, turning around when he doesn’t immediately follow. “Aren’t you coming?”
Hesitation flickers in his expression. “I don’t think it’s a smart idea for us to walk out of a hotel together. We are only a few blocks away from campus.”
“Oh…” My heart deflates.
“It’s just…” With a sigh, he pinches the bridge of his nose before returning his eyes to mine. “We need to be careful. I want to be with you, but I’ll lose my job. Probably both jobs, so…”
“Of course.” I force a smile, the high I was on crashing to the floor now that reality has set in.
Will we ever be able to be seen together? Or is this all we’ll ever have? A few clandestine meetings. Some really hot sex. Then being sent away before anyone realizes the truth. It reminds me a little too much of all the men who came before him.
“Well…” I hold my head high, re-securing my mask. “I’ll be on my way.”
He steps toward me. “Chloe…”
I hold up my hand, stopping him. “It’s no big deal.” My tone turns icy. “Thanks for the private session… Professor.”
By the time I step off the elevator and make my way through the familiar corridors of the journalism building, my blood is boiling. No matter the questionable things I’d done in my past, I’ve never felt as cheap as I just did with Lincoln. Why did I expect things would be different? It was stupid of me to think we’d ever have a normal relationship.
When I barrel into the classroom several minutes after three, all eyes go to me in expectation, then disappointment when they see I’m not Lincoln. A few of the girls rake their disapproving gazes over me. I wonder if I have a blinking sign on my forehead, advertising the fact that I’d just fucked our professor. This must be how Hester Prynne felt. Except she knew she wore a giant sign announcing her sins to the world. My sins are still invisible. How much longer will they remain that way?