When she’d first confessed her professor fantasies, he’d done some Google research and decided on something he hoped she’d like—something a bit more forceful than they’d been skirting around. After careful planning and research, he’d developed his plan and he didn’t intend to be dissuaded at the first seductive glance. No matter how tempting. He injected as much sternness into his voice as he could muster. “I asked a question, Ms. Roberts. I suggest you answer, or suffer the consequences.”
Her blue eyes darted to him, the Lolita seductress still firmly in place.
He placed a palm over the cover of the book and tapped his finger. “Do I need to ask again?”
She grinned, clearly liking the game and believing herself in full control of the situation. “I’m ready.”
Lately he’d come to understand how much she relied on her dazzling personality and nonstop sex appeal, and while he couldn’t blame her, he also suspected she used it to hold herself back.
Something he intended to rectify today, if his research paid off.
“Good. If at any time during the exam you feel you’re unable to continue, please tell me to stop and I’ll end the test immediately. Of course, you’ll receive a failing grade, but that will be your choice. Understood?”
She giggled, uncrossed her legs, and splayed them wide. “Oh, I understand.”
He shook his head. “The correct answer is ‘Yes, Professor. ’”
Her eyes widened and her breath seemed to stick in her throat.
He smiled. Excellent.
Oh, so he wanted to play it that way, did he? Well, she could do that. She crossed her legs again and tugged down her skirt to affect the role of a nervous school girl.
She had to admit that with the look in his eyes and set of his jaw, tapping his fingers on the book, he was quite convincing. She gave him her most demure look. “Of course, Professor.”
He raised a brow. “Are you finally going to take your grades seriously, Ms. Roberts?”
He was doing an excellent job of playing the character because her body bought it hook, line, and sinker.
“Yes, Professor.” She lowered her voice. “I’ll do anything to get an A.”
His lips quirked, and an expression she’d never seen before passed over his features. “Anything?”
She licked her lips. “Anything.”
A slow nod. “Very good. But if you need to stop, tell me at any time.”
She purred. “I’m quite positive I can please you.”
“I’m counting on it.” His tone was stern and exciting.
Boy, he was really committing to the role. Of course, she’d played games like this before; but it felt a touch different with him. Maybe it was because he mattered.
She offered her most sultry smile and said in a light, flirty voice, “I’m sure there’s something I can do to convince you of my dedication.”
He smoothed his open palm over the textbook. “Your only way out of this is to do what you’re told. Do you understand?”
A flare of heat spread over her chest and beaded her nipples. “Yes.”
He crooked his finger. “Please, come here.”
She bounded out of the chair. “Yes, Professor.”
He twisted in his seat. “Come stand in front of me.”
Now was the fun part. She walked over to him, stopping directly in front of him as he’d instructed.
His gaze traveled over her body until her skin tingled as though he touched her. “I understand you believe your pretty face can get you out of any mess you find yourself in, but I can assure you that will not work on me. Manipulation will be met with consequences. Are we clear?”
The statement made her pause. She wanted to make a joke, something fun and sexy, but her mind was an utter blank. And she found that all she could do was nod.
“The first part of the exam will test your stamina.” He tapped a finger on the desk. “Lean down and rest your elbows on the desk.”
Something stuttered inside her as hot desire pooled in her stomach. He was very good at this. And it was so hot. She knew it was just a game, not even an unfamiliar one, but she’d never felt like this before. Was he just that good? Or was it because she loved him?
When she didn’t move, he said, “I don’t like hesitation, Ms. Roberts.”
She couldn’t seem to move, because something quivered and niggled inside her. What, she wasn’t sure, but it was definitely affecting her performance.
“I suggest you don’t make me ask again,” he said, his voice filled with authority.
And suddenly she understood. She thought of all the times they’d been together. The ways he’d tortured her at Thanksgiving until she’d been insane. That quiet, steady command. The way she’d never been able to charm her way out of something with him. This wasn’t quite an act. This was him. Unleashed.
She shivered. Her nipples beaded into tight, hard buds as the thrum of her heart became too loud.
“You’re hesitating.” Clipped, calm words.
The command spurred her into action, and she slowly leaned over the desk in the position he’d indicated.
“Good. Now spread your legs.”
She did, her pulse a rapid beat in her ears.
“Wider.” His voice a hard bite.
She complied, her breathing fast and shallow. Her nipples rubbed against the desk and she stifled a low groan. She liked this. Like, really liked this.
He stood, walking behind her.
She closed her eyes, leaning her cheek on the table, ready for whatever he gave her.
“Up on your elbows.”
Her lids flew open and a giggle escaped. She grinned back at him. “You sure are taking this seriously.”
His lips quirked but didn’t break into a smile. “Your education is important to me.” He grabbed a fistful of her hair and tugged. “Here’s how this is going to work. Every time you hesitate I’ll add five minutes to your test. Understand?”
Something needy and desperate took hold, intoxicating her. “Yes, Professor.”
“And what did I tell you to do?”
She had no earthly idea. She licked her lower lip. “I forget.”
He sighed, a long, exasperated sound, as he tsked. “Ms. Roberts, what am I going to do with you?”
She wiggled her ass. “I have some ideas.”
His palm skimmed down her back and he kneaded it roughly, and she had to bite back a moan of pleasure. “That’s not going to work on me.”
Why wasn’t he going for her naughty school girl act as the game dictated? She tried again and puffed out her bottom lip. “Are you sure about that?”
He frowned at her. “Up on your elbows, Ms. Roberts.”
Okay then, he wasn’t playing around, and somehow that made it that much hotter. Slowly, she rose to her elbows.
“Good.” He straightened and picked up the book with one hand, while pressing the palm of his other down on the curve of her spine, exerting pressure until her back bowed and her ass lifted. He stroked over her spine. “Very nice.”
Her breath hitched and she decided to give up thinking and just go with it.
He flipped up her skirt and ran his hands over her round, cotton-covered cheeks. She sucked air into her burning lungs. He ran his fingers over her hip, sweeping up her back before running down her other leg. “Have you ever been properly disciplined?”
Her thoughts scattered as she tried to sort through her answer. Sure, she’d been smacked on the butt before, but somehow she didn’t think that was what he was talking about. She hesitated too long and he clucked his tongue. “What am I going to do with you? We’ll have to add another five minutes.”
“But—”
He squeezed her hip. “Do you want to make it ten?”
God, it was too much. She started to hyperventilate.
“Answer me,” he barked, and she jerked in shock and a near debilitating desire.
“No, Professor.”
In answer his hand started to move agai
n, ever so slowly, ever so deliberately over her skin. He trailed a path over her ass and then slipped the spine of the book between her legs, rubbing it against her clit. She clenched her hands into fists as she moaned. Impossibly, despite the barrier of her panties, she felt the first telltale sign of an impending orgasm. She fell out of position, pushing her hips back to increase the friction.
And then he was gone.
She turned and glared. “Don’t stop!”
He shook his head as though he was totally disappointed in her. “You have no self-control.”
She opened her mouth to speak, but he stopped her with one arched brow. “That’s ten minutes.”
A type of desperate, panic-filled desire fired through her blood. “You can’t be serious!”
“I’m quite serious. Now I suggest you be quiet.” He tapped her forearms with his fingers. “Elbows up, Ms. Roberts.”
She gulped, and returned to the position he’d put her in. She’d often fantasized about what it would be like to be helpless, with no control. And while she’d played at it, it had never actually happened.
She was always in control, especially with men, but there was something implacable about James in this moment. Something that had her shaking inside.
She trusted him implicitly, but she was far out of her comfort zone and she suspected he damn well knew it. Emotion welled inside her and she broke character. She whispered, “James?”
He leaned over her, his large frame solid and safe. “What’s wrong, baby girl?”
Her fingers tightened on the wood of the desk. “I-I don’t know.”
His hand stroked over her back, fingers running along the curve of her spine. “You’re not sure if you love it or hate it.”
She nodded.
“It scares you.”
She closed her eyes. Right again.
A whisper in her ear. “But, deep down, this is something you’ve thought about.”
“Yes,” she said, her voice so thick she hardly recognized it.
“Me too,” he said, sounding exactly like the James she knew and loved.
She looked back at him. “It is?”
He stroked her hair. “Yes. I think maybe this is something we both need. But at the end of the day, it’s still you and me.”
She nodded, her unexpressed love heavy in her chest, making her ache.
He trailed a finger down the nape of her neck. “All you need to do is tell me to stop and it will be over.”
“Okay.” The reassurance was exactly what she needed to continue.
“Are you ready to continue?”
She didn’t understand why this was making her so emotional; it should be just a fun little sex game, but it was so much more. She didn’t want to stop. “Yes, James.”
Without a word, he straightened and once again began his slow seduction, running his hands over her skin. Down her legs, over her ass, over her core, up her back until he became the worst type of tease.
She squeezed her lids together and clenched her teeth in an effort to keep from crying out and falling out of position.
He stepped behind her. She pressed back, hoping to tempt him, but he didn’t seem to notice, nor did he heed her silent demands.
He ran his hands down her hips, skimming her panties down her thighs to rest at her knees. Her legs started to quiver as the elastic bit into her skin.
His fingers slipped between her legs and it was like an electric shock.
“My, someone’s wet.”
Her head fell forward as he stroked her clit and a powerful orgasm, which threatened to tear her apart, began its upward climb.
He pulled away.
She cursed.
He slapped her ass, hard enough to bring the sting of tears to her eyes as fire exploded over her skin.
So. Damn. Good.
He slapped her again and leaned down. “In fairness, you are asking for it, aren’t you?”
She’d forgotten all about her cute little top she’d thought would be so funny. “Yes, Professor.”
His hands started the slow journey all over again. Up and down her legs, over her hips, circling her ass, stopping to rub over her clit, working her up only to stop when she was about to come.
She whimpered in protest.
His erection pressed against her hot skin as he hovered over her. With an arm around her waist he stroked her, and she was so wet it was almost embarrassing. He whispered, “I’ve only just begun.”
A low sound emanated from her throat and she shuddered.
He straightened and pressed on her back with the flat of his hand until she was once again in position. He picked up the book and balanced it on the curve of her bottom and stepped away, sliding into the desk chair next to her. “Here’s how this is going to work. You’re currently at ten minutes. Every time the book falls to the floor, we’ll add another five minutes to your test. I suggest you stay still or we’ll be here for a long time. Sound simple enough?”
Actually it did. The textbook was large and not hard to balance. “Yes, Professor.”
“Good.” He turned his chair and straightened the papers on his desk, before grabbing a pen.
She frowned at him. “What are you doing?”
He didn’t even glance up. “Editing my publication.”
“But . . .” She trailed off.
A tilt of the head, and a raised brow. “Yes?”
“Nothing,” she mumbled, and stared down at the desk, mildly disappointed. This wasn’t going to be hard at all.
She’d expected more of a challenge. She scowled at the wood between her splayed hands.
James made a notation on the paper.
She let out an annoyed huff.
He ignored her and continued reading.
She glared at a TARDIS paperweight.
He highlighted a few sentences.
Her back started to ache from holding the position so long.
She glanced at a clock. Six minutes had past.
He didn’t seem to know she was alive.
She tapped her nails against the wood.
He abruptly smacked her ass, surprising her so much she jerked and the book tumbled to the floor. He laughed, low and evil. “That’s a shame. And you only had a couple minutes left too.”
“Hey!” She fell out of position as she turned to glower. “You did that on purpose.”
“Me? Never.”
“Liar!” She’d been so close to the end. “That’s not fair.”
He clucked his tongue and picked up the book. “Imagine that.”
“You’re mean.” She pouted, and as much as she hated him in that moment, she couldn’t deny the tiny kernel of satisfaction.
He jutted his chin toward the desk. “Back in position, Ms. Roberts.”
She shivered, and seconds later the book was once again balanced across her ass.
He returned to his papers. She huffed.
Without looking up, he reached between her legs and rubbed her clit. She gasped, lust instantly roaring in her head. And then he was gone. He trailed his now wet fingers over her inner thighs. “I can tell how much you’re hating this.”
She sucked in a breath. “Jerk.”
He chuckled and went back to his work.
“You can’t possibly be reading.”
“Maybe I should read it out loud, Ms. Roberts. Then I can quiz you on your concentration.”
“At least I’d have something to do.” The second the words left her mouth she knew her mistake.
He sighed and got up from the chair.
And gave a whole new meaning to the word torture.
An hour later, Gracie cried out as he denied her yet again. Her back ached, her ass was sore, her clit was on fire, and she’d never been so turned on in her whole life. She felt insane, completely depraved, as James assaulted her body with such delicious torment she thought she’d die from it.
He was implacable.
Hard.
Driven.
Methodical.
>
And absolutely ruthless.
She loved it. Hated it. She wanted it to never end and couldn’t wait for it to stop.
She was a wreck. Sweat dripped down her temples, her makeup a thing of the past, her hair a wild, tangled mess. She’d begged. Pleaded. Cursed him. Worshiped him.
And still he wouldn’t give in to her demands for release.
“Face me and get on your knees,” he said, his tone impenetrable.
Far past hesitating, she turned and dropped to the floor, between his knees, looking up at him in expectation.
As he stared down at her, his expression softened and he trailed a finger over her cheek. “You’re a good girl.”
Her throat tightened unexpectedly. “Thank you.”
“I love you,” he said, and her heart skipped a beat. “I think I’ve been in love with you forever.”
Tears filled her eyes and spilled down her cheeks. He loved her. Not the fun, fantasy girl, but her. The real her. The words trembled on her lips, but she said them anyway. Because, despite her fear, they were true. “I love you too.”
“Do you trust me?”
She nodded. All pretense of playing gone.
“Then give me what I want and you won’t regret it.”
“What do you want?” Her chest so tight she thought she might explode.
“Everything.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Gracie’s fourth orgasm exploded through her with such a violent shock she burst into tears. The tears came from out of nowhere. One second she shuddered with the most exquisite pleasure she’d ever known, and the next, she was crying. Deep, soul-wracking sobs that shook her to the very core.
James pulled out, scooped her up as though she weighed nothing, and sat down in the office chair, nestling her into his lap. He stroked her back in slow sweeps, making soothing sounds into her ear.
On and on she cried. She cried for everything that was wrong in her life and everything that was good. She cried for the business she’d grown that now seemed to be spiraling out of her control. She cried for her dad. For his abandonment, but also for the way he used to pick her up and swing her in the air. The way he taught Gracie and Sam to climb the tree by the river and jump off the thickest branch before they came home sunburned and tired, to sit at the kitchen table and eat oatmeal cookies.
The Name of the Game Page 28