AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“You. You’re hilarious if you think I’m the one disrupting class.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” I take a step toward her. My palms start to itch, so I flex my hands in and out of fists to keep from doing something I shouldn’t.
She takes another step closer, and my mind rings with alarm bells. This is dangerous.
“It means you are the one disrupting the class. Everyone can see how obsessed you are with me! Did you even notice the guy who came in a whole five minutes after me? Did you say a word to him? No. You just want to make my life hell because, for some reason, you want to be a massive dick to me!”
“Watch your tone, Miss Green,” I say in warning.
Another step closer.
We’re toe to toe now.
I should back up, but I can’t.
“Or what?” she argues with her head tilted like she’s presenting a challenge. “What are you going to do, Dr. Goode?”
“You know what,” I grit through my teeth.
“Go ahead,” she whispers. “You know you want to.”
This is a mistake. A stupid, careless mistake, but she’s pushing me to do it, and she’s one-hundred-percent right. We both know I want to.
So I do something I never, ever do. I act without thinking. I don’t process the consequences and I don’t regard the warning signs.
I grab Sadie by the back of the neck, spinning her around to the nearest table. She doesn’t stop me or fight back. She lets me bend her over, letting out a gasp as I do.
A gasp that goes straight to my dick.
Holding her chest to the surface, she waits, gripping the edges as I stare down at her ass in those tight black leggings. The round, luscious surface of it perched up in anticipation.
With all of the anger boiling under my skin, I rear back my hand and spank her on the left side of her ass. Not hard enough to hurt her or the baby, but enough to show her.
Show her what…I don’t know.
She whimpers, gripping tighter to the table.
God, that felt good.
Too good.
So I lift my hand and do it again. And again. And again.
With each wallop on her ass, I grunt, leaning into the fervor and satisfaction of bringing her just a little bit of pain, making her feel how vehement I am. Like pouring my passion into her. It connects us. Makes us one.
It doesn’t make sense. Nothing with her makes sense.
But in some weird way, it makes more sense than anything else I’ve tried to understand in the past six weeks.
I lose count of how many times I spank her, but when my hands start to sting, and her voice grows higher, I stop. My arm is raised in midair, and I’m gazing down at her like I’m recovering from some out-of-body experience.
Quickly, I back away.
As the adrenaline starts to fade, I realize there is a throbbing inside my pants. I turn away from her to hide my raging erection.
She rises from the table, breathing hard but not saying a word.
“I’m sorry, I just?—”
