Page 102 of The Headmaster’s Rule

“She was a good person. Sweet. But I think… even then, I knew I didn’t love her in the way I was supposed to. Not the way she deserved. I was trying to be the right kind of man. For her. For my father. For the school.”

Guilt twists through me. Despite it looking like we had everything, I was never fully invested in my marriage, and she was gone before either of us could admit it.

I draw a breath, the words catching in my throat. “I didn’t treat her badly. But I didn’t know how to want more, either. And now…” I glance at Eleanor, at the way she looks up at me. Not judging, just waiting, open. “Now I do.”

Her eyes are wide as she absorbs my words. We stare at each other for a beat, then she lowers her head into my lap. I thread my hands into her hair, stroking gently, my mind drifting to the night I got that tattoo.

It was during a drunken weekend with friends, shortly before graduation. They used to joke that I was “The Prince of Wetherly Cove,” like I was some fucking heir, and it pissed me off. Sure, my father was the headmaster, but that didn’t mean I had to follow in his footsteps. I got the pawn tattooed with a crown to show I was in on the joke. As if to say, Ha ha, sure. I’ll be crowned someday.

Of course, it didn’t mean much in the end. I fell in line, as expected. Now I am the damn headmaster, and the tattoo quietly mocks me anytime I catch sight of it.

I shake my head to myself. I haven’t thought of that night in a long time, but try as I might, I can’t summon any regret. Turns out I’ve got my own rebellious streak, deep inside, even if it’s been years since I’ve let it out into the light.

But as I gaze at the beautiful young woman in front of me, the woman I very much was not supposed to want, let alone touch, I realize I’m wrong. I wanted Eleanor with my entire body, mind, heart, but the part that made it happen, the part who fucked her mercilessly in my office, bent her over the copier, spanked her sweet little ass, was the same guy who, in his twenties, got that tattoo. The guy who resented the role he had to step into. Who wanted to take something for himself, regardless of what others expected.

And as much as it scares me, I want to let him call more of the shots.

“That tattoo was the one time I acted out,” I murmur. “With everything else, I did what was expected of me. With Viv, with the school. But this…” I caress her cheek softly with my thumb. “This is the first time I’ve ever taken something just for me.”

Eleanor’s eyes gleam as she gazes at me, and a dangerous ache stirs in my chest. As if she already knows something I haven’t admitted yet.

She sits up, taking my face in her hands as she kisses me softly. Her sweet scent washes over me, roses and peonies, and she sighs, lying back on the bed, tugging me next to her.

“It was amazing to touch you while walking around the city,” she murmurs. “To kiss you.”

I slip an arm around her, and she curls into my side. She’s so soft and warm, so right in my arms.

“I didn’t think I’d like being touched in public,” I say, pressing a kiss to her forehead. When I glance down at her, heat flickers in her hazel eyes.

“I loved it.” Her voice comes out huskier than before. “Honestly, you should be glad I held back.”

My lips quirk in amusement. “Should I?”

She nods, gaze darkening. “I’m not sure how much longer I can wait, though. You’re giving serious fuck me vibes in those sweatpants.”

I glance at the worn sweats, soft and molded to me. They’re probably the least attractive thing I own, but then I would have said the same about those old ripped jeans, and she fucking ate me up in those, so who knows.

“Am I?” I ask, amusement deepening.

“Uh huh.”

Her gaze smolders as she leans forward, tracing the outline of my dick through the soft fabric. It responds to her touch, instantly thickening, and she grins.

I give a deep chuckle, rolling to my side to brush her hair from her eyes, to kiss her neck. A soft sigh escapes her as I trail kisses over her bare shoulder, then pull her sweater over her head, revealing her breasts underneath.

“No bra,” I rumble into her skin, cock hardening as I move down her collarbone to suck one perfect pink nipple into my mouth.

“I thought you’d prefer that,” she rasps, arching into my touch.

I hum in agreement, hands gliding over her smooth, warm skin. I’ve never had the opportunity to really take my time with her, to lay her out like this and just touch her. It’s intoxicating.

Her fingers tug at my shirt, peeling it off, then her hands are on my chest, my shoulders, her lips parted, expression reverent.

“Theo,” she whispers, eyes dark with need as she maps every dip and curve of me. “Come here.”

I’m already on top of her, but I know what she means. She draws my mouth to hers, arms circling my neck, legs wrapping around me. The heat of her chest comes flush with mine, warming me through. Just being in her embrace has my cock aching, and I kiss her fiercely, hands tangling in her hair, hips bucking.

We part to shuck our pants and underwear, then I’m on her again, not inside her yet, just touching each other, kissing, savoring. I graze my lips on her jaw, loving the feel of her naked and spread out beneath me, realizing for the first time we’ve never had sex in a bed. We’ve never been this close.