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“Oh, trust me, I’d love to right now, but I can’t fuck you in this elevator. The alarm is about to go off if I don’t start it up again, and besides”—he leans in and flicks my earlobe with his tongue—“I’m a big fan of delayed gratification.”
“Ugh,” I groan as he steps back and readjusts his belt and zipper. “I thought that by agreeing to this arrangement it meant there would be more sex,” I goad him, knowing full well I’m only going to make it worse on myself. Now he’ll probably make me wait twice as long for my next orgasm.
His eyes flash to mine and his smile fades. He darts his hands out, placing them on either side of my head on the wall behind me. “Is that all I am to you? A human dildo that you think you can command to fuck you whenever you want?”
At first I think he’s teasing, but the look in his eyes is different this time. He almost looks… hurt.
“N—no. No, you’re not,” I say, reaching out to clutch his coat. “You’re so much more to me than that.”
I almost regret saying it, thinking I’ve exposed myself too much when his expression softens. He leans in, kissing me one more time just as the alarm goes off.
“Shit.” He reaches around, hitting the button to resume the elevator ride up to his office.
When the doors open and we head to his office to finish up for the day, his stoic expression is back in place and the moment has passed before I can ask him if I mean more to him than a physical release.
Chapter 21
Cyrus
Clearly, my attempt to keep Presley on pins and needles by withholding orgasms from her has backfired. She chews the tip of her pen, her hair flipped over her shoulder as the oversized sweater she’s wearing droops down, exposing her collarbone.
She knows exactly what she’s doing to me.
She uncrosses, then recrosses her bare legs, her skirt sliding up slightly to reveal a small sliver of her thigh. My eyes drift down, images of her thigh-high boots up by my ears flashing through my brain as I drag my gaze upward. She’s staring at me, a seductive grin on her lips.
The only reason she’s getting away with this is because Serenity isn’t in class today and everyone else is too buried in their own notes to notice.
I grip the podium, my cock way too alert for me to move away from it. No matter how hard I try to look elsewhere, my eyes keep finding their way back to her. There’s less than fifteen minutes left of class and it’s all I can do to make it through. I pull my phone out, typing out a quick text to her while one of the students answers a question I proposed.
Me: Meet me after class in my office.
I don’t give any context. I stare at her as if trying to mentally tell her to check her phone. It must buzz because she reaches into her bag and slides her thumb across the screen. Her eyes dart up to meet mine and I give her a look that says I’m not fucking playing.
The second the bell sounds, I grab my coat and head straight to my office. I stand outside the door in case she decides to disobey me. She rounds the corner down the narrow hallway.
“Miss James,” I say, stepping aside as I hold the door open. I shut it behind her and lock it, walking around to take a seat at my desk. “Please take a seat. Do you know why I called you into my office today?” I play the role, wanting to make her sweat.
“I’m not sure, Mr. Gates.”
“That’s Professor Gates,” I correct her.
“Professor,” she corrects.
“You were being very naughty in class today, Miss James. Now, I think I’ve made it abundantly clear to you that I don’t tolerate misbehaving, haven’t I?”
“Yes, sir,” she says, her eyes staying focused on mine.
I stand up, walking casually around her as I speak. “Yes, I think you need a reminder about how I handle that kind of behavior.” I pause, resting my hands on the back of the chair she’s sitting in as I lean down toward her. Her back stiffens, and she turns her head slightly as I lean in. “Do you want to find out how rough it can get, Presley?”
“Rough?” The word squeaks out of her throat. Gone is that confident little flirt from moments ago. Her hands are folded nervously in her lap as I place a soft kiss on her exposed neck.
“Mm-hmm. Very. But first—” I reach my hand out and take one of her hands, helping her to stand up. “I want you naked.”
“Naked?” Her eyes bulge. “In here?”
“Don’t make me say it again, young lady.” I walk behind the desk and sit down. “Go on, take your clothes off.” I lean back in the chair, folding my hands in my lap as she reaches for the hem of her sweater. She pulls it over her head slowly, leaving it on the chair. She looks back at me as she unzips her skirt, dropping it down her thighs.
“Leave the boots on.” Her eyes dart back to me nervously as she reaches around to remove her bra, followed by her panties. She stands there, fully nude, her pink nipples pert with the coolness of the office.
