Page 63 of The Headmaster’s Rule

I crush my mouth to hers, fingers splayed on her back to pull her flush to me, hands claiming, possessing. She whimpers when I suck her bottom lip into my mouth, biting, and her hips begin to rock. Fingers tug at my shirt buttons, releasing them, then her hands are on me, soft, warm, smooth on my chest, my stomach, my shoulders.

“God, Theo.” She groans, leaning in to bite my shoulder. “You’re so hot.”

The sound of my name in that silky purr is too much. I growl, tugging her cardigan over her head. She’s wearing a white silk camisole underneath, perfectly innocent, but it’s sheer enough for me to see the outline of her breasts through a lace bra, and the sight makes my mouth water. I don’t want to rush her, but—

Before I even finish the thought, she’s pulled the camisole off and undone her bra, tossing it aside.

Holy shit.

I stare at her, slack-jawed. Smooth, creamy-white skin, full, perky breasts, rosy buds for nipples. She’s utter perfection. Mine to worship.

Mine to ruin, if she’ll let me.

“Do you have any idea how fucking beautiful you are?” I ask roughly, and she gasps.

“I’ve never heard you curse.”

My mouth hooks into a dirty grin. “There are a lot of things you’ve never heard me say, sweetheart.”

Her breath stutters. She knows exactly what I mean.

But not yet.

I dip my head to kiss a path from her collarbone to her breasts, and she arches in my arms, head falling back in surrender. This is exactly how I want her: bared to me, so willing.

Circling her nipple with my tongue, I suck it into my mouth, using my thumb to tease the other. She shudders with pleasure, hands gripping my shoulders, hips rocking again, seeking friction. My cock throbs as she grinds against me, skin so smooth under my lips. I slide my hands up her thighs, desperate to see if she’s wet for me.

Then I pause, making sure not to rush this. Her. I want to tear the rest of her clothes off and take her right here, but I won’t. Not unless she wants it as much as I do.

“Is this okay?” I grate out.

“Yes,” she breathes, still grinding against me. And even though her consent is most enthusiastic, I’m still hyper-aware that I’m her boss. That she could, on some level, feel pressured to go through with this.

I draw back enough to meet her hazy gaze. To show her I’m still with her, and will respect her boundaries.

“If you want me to stop at any point, just tell me, okay?”

“If you stop, I’ll cry.”

I release a dark chuckle as I lean in to flick my tongue over one hard, pink nipple.

“We can’t have that, can we?”

She shakes her head, wriggling her ass on my lap. I groan as the friction sends heat pouring through me. Then I resume sliding my hands up her thighs, under her skirt, meeting at the lacy fabric in the middle.

Jesus Christ.

I look up at her in a daze. “You’re soaked, sweetheart.”

The flush on her cheeks deepens, as if she’s embarrassed, and I let out a ragged breath, cradling her head as I bring her mouth back to mine. My other hand brushes her panties, making her quiver on my lap. Then I hook a finger into them, through her wetness.

“So hot,” I rasp, sliding my thumb over her clit. She moans, right onto my tongue, and I drink it down, strumming her clit again, loving how she responds. The way she rubs against me so insistently has my cock leaking in my pants, but I need to make sure she’s satisfied before I take what I need.

I push a finger into her, groaning when I feel how tight she is. How damn good she’ll feel stretched around my dick.

“Ohhh,” she whimpers, burying her head in my shoulder, as if the pleasure is too much.

I add a second finger, curling them up inside her, watching her squirm restlessly. Then I pump gently in and out, thumb on her clit, hoping like hell I won’t come in my pants as she writhes on my lap.