We both breathe heavily, looking into each other's eyes.
I see his rage, as if he hates me for kissing me, although he was the one who started it.
"If you tell anyone about the club, I'll show them our sex video," he growls, letting me go, and I grab the edge of the desk again not to fall.
"You're lying. There's no sex video," I say, shaking my head, although I have no idea if it’s true. I don't know him at all, how can I be sure?
"Oh, there is, Savannah." He smiles pleasantly. "There's a camera in my room because I love rewatching pretty girls like you scream in pleasure when they come."
He can't be serious, although he seems honest. His smirk is so satisfied, as if he’s just won the fight.
If he shows anyone our sex video, my future is ruined.
"Never even speak to me again, do you understand?" he roars, looking at me with disgust, as if I was covered with abscesses.
This man changes from calm to furious, from aroused to disgusted in a split second, and no matter how hard I try, I cannot understand which one of these men is the real Daniel Vanderbilt.
"And put on some fucking panties," he roars and rapidly walks away, out of the classroom, slamming the door behind him.
Chapter Nine
Daniel
It's been two days, two fucking days since I tasted Savannah on my lips.
Savannah...Even her name sounds sensual. It makes me ache just thinking about her. She's the first woman who could get me excited without touching her or seeing her naked, just by thinking about her.
That kiss was a mistake. I didn't want to do that. I only wanted to scare her. It was involuntary because I couldn't let her go without a kiss when I sensed her arousal.
I made up the sex tape, and it worked. I wasn't sure if she'd believe me, because she's a smart girl. But even Savannah can't risk that much. Her reputation is at stake, and for young rich girls like her, it means everything.
I have to get laid as soon as possible. I have to sleep with as many women as it takes until the memory of her is replaced with new images in my head.
I lie to myself that I have no time for sex because of how many school tasks I have. When the deputy called me, asking if I could take over my father’s classes, I laughed in response. I'm not a teacher. Yes, I'm an entrepreneur, and my father taught me everything I know, but can I replace him? Of course not, that's impossible.
But then I remembered him asking me to take over the school if something happened to him. He said he didn't care about the money or his businesses when he's gone. All he cared about is this school.
And that's why I agreed to do it. It was supposed to be only three weeks of lecturing, and the deputy promised me he'll find a new teacher for next year.
But now it seems like I can't last even a week in that school, considering what I did to one of the students in my very first class.
She was so scared, my little lamb. So terrified that I might hurt her. And at the same time so aroused from my touches, as if she was testing me.
But I can't show her my weaknesses, only strength. She has to be afraid of me to keep her mouth shut and never even look in my direction, not to mention the club.
Because my world is so much different from hers, they shouldn't come together. I'm broken, and I was already like that when my father found me, homeless and starving on the streets. He adopted me and raised me as his own child, giving me everything I needed to survive, making me strong, rich, and powerful.
But the hurt inflicted in childhood does not heal. Even when the scars fade, the inner wounds continue to live.
That's why Savannah can never be with me. She's too innocent to fall for a man with so much damage.
I step into the club with the thought that I'll never be able to touch my little lamb again. And I lie to myself that I am already resigned to that. I try to deceive myself that it doesn't matter. So many women are out there, and I can have whoever I want.
I don't need Savannah Jones. I don't care about her. I’ve repeated it a thousand times in my head.
And as soon as this thought flashes through my head, I hold my breath and stop walking.
Have I completely lost my mind?
I see Savannah Jones right in front of me, shaking her ass on the dance floor of my club again.
I blink a couple of times to make sure I'm not dreaming.
I feel the blood rush through my veins so loudly that I almost can't hear my own thoughts.
What the hell is she doing here?
Some guy is dancing next to her, so close that he’s almost touching her. She doesn't seem bothered, smiling at him as if she’s enjoying herself immensely.
I squeeze my fists, trying to calm down, but I only get angrier.
She came. Again. She knew I'd be here; I come to the club almost every night. But she acts as if she isn't waiting for me, as if she just came here to dance and maybe meet someone else.
And now she's dancing with that somebody else.
The rage building up in me is greater than I experienced when she fled the other night.
I come closer rapidly without thinking twice, like a lion ready to attack, and when she notices me, her eyes get wide. She tries to smile at me, but then she protests, pushing me away when I grab her by the hand.
"What the hell are you doing here?" I roar, not paying attention to the guy next to her. He's approximately my age. I've seen him before a couple of times, always with lots of girls around him.
"Hey, man, go find someone else. This cutie is with me today," the guy says, offended, grabbing Savannah—my Savannah—by her other hand to make her follow him instead of me.
This cutie. He talks about her as if she's a puppy.
And he touched her.
I think I'm ready to punch him right in the face and throw him out of the club.
"Let me go, Daniel. I'm not your property, and you can’t tell me what to do." She tries to free her hand, but I don't let her.
"I told you to never come here again!" I hissed, leaning closer and pulling her toward me.
"Is there a problem? Because I can..." the guy starts.
"Three nights at the hotel for free, including three different girls you'll choose from the list," I interrupt him, pushing his hand away from Savannah's and looking at him from above.
The guy looks at Savannah and then at me again, probably trying to decide what to do.
"Go to Imogen and tell her that Daniel gave you the white flag," I continue, giving him a code I use when I want to give a gift to a client.
To be honest, all I want to do is to throw him out of here, but I know this guy is not my problem. Savannah is. Even if I throw him out, she'll find someone else to dance and flirt with, only to make me jealous.
And I have to admit that it’s working.
"She won't sleep with you; she's just playing, working you for money," I lie, talking about Savannah and grabbing her other hand to hold in mine. "I'm gonna throw her out right now."
"Hey, that's not true!" she yells, trying to push me away, but I do not give in. "Don't listen to him..."
She turns to look at her dancing partner, but he's already gone.
Smart guy. He knows when to walk away.
"I hate you," she hisses, trying to break free again.
I notice that people are staring at us, trying to figure what is going on. Some of them know who I am, but others have no idea. Usually, if someone acts like I am now, security shows up.
"Follow me," I command, still holding both of her hands in my palms and trying to make her come with me, but she resists so much that she almost falls when I take a step.
I free her arms, grab her by the waist and throw her over my shoulder, with her ass in the air and her head hanging down my back.
I know I have to get her outside and make sure she never comes here again.
But instead of doing that, I'm walking to the elevator doors that lead straight to the hotel rooms.
She punches me angr
ily a couple of times in my back, showing her displeasure. Still, the second the elevator closes behind us, she stops hitting me, probably finally realizing that she's trapped and there's nowhere to run.
We both keep silent as the elevator goes up to my penthouse suite. I can feel her rapid breathing. Her ass is right on my shoulder, and I fight the urge to turn my head and bite her hip to punish her for being so irresponsible.
The second we walk to my room and slam the door behind us, I put Savannah down on her feet and press her against the wall.
"Why are you here when I told you not to come anymore?" I say through clenched teeth, taking her chin between my fingers.
She tries to hit me with her hand, but I grab it in the air before she can connect.
"Answer me, Savannah," I command, holding her wrist in one hand and her chin in the other.
Our eyes lock, and she doesn't try to hit me anymore, although her second hand is free.
"You know why," she whispers, barely audible, breathing heavily, and her chest heaves and falls again, brushing her breasts against my chest, "I need my first time."
She says need distinctly but so desperately, as if she's talking about water while she's lost in the desert.
I know when she says she needs her first time, she means with me. She didn't say it, but I'm sure she can't stop thinking about what could've happened between us the other night if she wasn't a virgin.
I have to let her go. I have to let her find someone else, someone better than me.
But I can't do that...
I try to convince myself that I simply cannot let her sleep with someone she barely knows, but is it true? Would I let her have sex with someone she knows?
Of course not. Because I simply can't let her make love to someone who isn't me.
I let her wrist go, and her arms fall to her sides. She doesn't want to fight anymore, and neither do I.
I brush my fingers over her soft, sensitive skin, stroking her arm, going higher, to her shoulder, and then her neck and collarbone.
Her skin breaks out in goosebumps.
She's so sensitive, so responsive. She shudders from my slightest touch.
I look down at her body. She's wearing a dark gray silk dress, so thin that I can see her puckered nipples pointing at me under the fabric. The straps of the dress leave no doubt she's not wearing a bra.
"Fuck," I swear, unable to hold back my emotions as I press my forehead to hers. "What are we doing?"
I don't want to hear the answer. I want her to stop me, to push me away, to tell me she doesn't want this.
But instead, she keeps silent. I place one of my hands on her waist, stroking my thumb over her belly, and she bites her lower lip. Full, rosy, sweet, so ready to be tasted—that's how attractive those lips are as I stare at them.
I brush her lower lip with my thumb to make her stop biting it because I can't take it anymore. I want to kiss her; I want to bite that lip exactly the way she does it.
There are reasons why I never kiss on the mouth: it's too intimate, too personal, too dangerous. Sex is about getting a release, while a kiss is about giving a part of yourself to another person.
No matter what people think, kissing on the mouth is way more honest than sex.
And I swear that I've never wanted anything in my life more than I want to kiss Savannah Jones.
She parts her lips, sticks out her tongue, and licks my thumb with it lightly, barely touching it. My body tenses so much I swear I’m about to have a heart attack.
And then she wraps her full rosy lips around the tip of my finger and swallows it into her mouth.
And that's when I realize that I'm lost.
Chapter Ten
Savannah
I don't know what I'm doing. My body is shaking, and my legs are weak, but I am more aroused than I've ever been before in my life.
I swallow the tip of Daniel's thumb in my throat, and I feel his hand squeeze my waist harder in response.
He pulls his finger out, and I moan, displeased, offended he did it because I’ve barely even started teasing him.
"I don't do relationships, Savannah," he whispers into my mouth. His forehead is pressed to mine, and his stiff muscled chest brushes against my swollen nipples. "I don't do commitments. It's gonna be a one-night-only offer, and you can't stay afterward."
I know! I want to scream, but words stick in my throat because I don't want to believe them. The attraction I feel between us is so different from anything I’ve felt before. I don't want to think it's going to end after only one night.
"I know," I say quietly, clearing my throat. "I won't ask for more, I promise."
"And you won't come back here," he warns, his lips inches from mine, "ever."
I nod, unable to say a word, and at that same moment, he presses his lips to mine.
Hungrily, eagerly, as if he couldn't wait until he does it.
I wrap my hands around his neck, and he grabs me by the waist and holds me up so I circle my legs around his body, pressing my naked pussy to his shirt.
I didn't wear any underwear, because I wanted him to be surprised when he realized it.
When he feels the warmth of my wet pussy over him, he pulls away from me a little, but only to say, "You're a naughty little lamb, Savannah."
Lamb... he called me that before, and for some indescribable reason, I like it. I like how he holds me and calls me a pet name because I'm sure that he’s never done anything like that with anyone else before.
Our lips meet again, playing with each other, sucking hard and then letting go. Our tongues dance in their own rhythm.
Daniel walks to his bedroom, holding me as tightly as if I'm his most valuable gift.
This time, he doesn't rush; he doesn't throw me on his bed. Instead, he places me carefully on the edge, without breaking our kiss.
"I can't promise I'll be gentle all the way," he whispers, pushing his hands under my dress and raising it higher. "You have to tell me if..."
He stops and looks up at me. When our eyes meet, he doesn't say anything, just looks at me as if trying to figure something out, as if deciding whether to tell me something or not.
"I've never been with a virgin before," he whispers, and I chuckle involuntarily, slightly shaking my head at how ridiculous it sounds.
But when I look at Daniel again, I see that he's not joking.
Is he serious? Like, for real? He has never had sex with a virgin? But what about his first time?
No, I don't want to think about Daniel's first time or any time when he was with other women.
Because it's not about them, it's about us.
I open my mouth to say something, but then I close it again because I don't even know how to respond to what he just said.
"I like rough and fast sex," he continues, saying this with a little shame in his voice as if he's embarrassed to admit it. "I never do slow and tender, I never even..."
He stops again and takes my neck in his palm, stroking the beck of it so gently that I start doubting his words. His actions do not agree with them at all.
"What?" I ask hoarsely, my heart beating faster.
He can't let me go, and I don't want that, not after what he just told me, not after how he made me feel.
"I don't kiss on the lips," he whispers as one hand strokes my neck and the other brushes the inner side of my thigh.
I would've laughed once more if I hadn't seen his face and become entirely convinced that he was telling the truth.
"Then why did you kiss me?" I breathe out heavily. The arousal this man builds inside of me is growing with each second.
"I don't know," he says before leaning into me and pressing his lips to mine again.
We kiss slower this time, more leisurely. Daniel teases me by brushing his lips over mine and then pulling back, but without penetrating my mouth.
Before this one, the kisses we had were rapid, fast, hungry, as if he’s been starving for them for ages. This time, he kisses me so gently a
nd slowly that I start to melt in his arms, my body tension evaporating.
I start unbuttoning his shirt one by one, undressing him the way I’ve dreamt I would.
When his shirt is finally open, he takes it off without breaking our kiss, stroking my naked legs with his fingers.
When his thumbs move higher and reach my pussy lips, I squeeze my legs to increase the friction. He smiles, pulling his lips away a little.
"You're so turned on, lamb," he whispers, smiling slyly at me. "I like it."
He grabs the fabric of my dress and starts pulling it off, slowly, inch by inch, exposing my naked body.
When I'm finally totally naked, he stops for a second, merely staring at me, eating me with that gaze.
"You're gorgeous," he whispers and licks his lips, exploring my body with his gaze.
That action makes me want to squeeze my legs tight.
Sitting in front of Daniel totally naked, wearing only my black high heels, would be embarrassing if he didn't look at me the way he is…as if I'm really, honestly, the most beautiful woman he has ever seen.
"I want to undress you, too," I whisper, reaching for his belt to unbuckle it, but Daniel takes my hands and gently pushes them away.
"Later, when you're ready." He speaks hoarsely, and when I try to protest that I am ready, he kneels down in front of me, arranging himself between my legs. "I need to prepare you to take me."
He spreads my legs wider and leans his face to my center.
Daniel Vanderbilt might be a jerk, an arrogant and stubborn asshole who treated me like I'm his toy. Still, when he finally presses his lips to my clit, I forget everything that happened before.
I scream loudly with the unbelievable pleasure that covers my body immediately.
"Daniel," I cry out, grabbing his hair with my hands, digging my fingers hard into him.
"Yes, scream my name, Savannah," he whispers, his warm breath spreading across my center. "I dreamt about you screaming my name for so long."
And then he sucks me inside of him, squeezing my ass in his palms at the same time.
I cry out his name again, arching my back, his words about dreaming of me echoing in my head.
Take Me Gently: A High School Forbidden Love Steamy Standalone Romance (Dirty Elite Academy) Page 5