Page 93 of The Headmaster’s Rule

The thought makes me suck in a breath, and Theo’s gaze swings to me. If he’s surprised by my presence, he doesn’t show it. He simply motions for the kid to leave, and I watch, heart racing, as the boy skulks out the door and closes it behind him.

“Miss Hart,” Theo says, adjusting the cuff of his shirt with practiced indifference. I rise from my chair, unable to stop myself from crossing to him.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop.”

He lifts his gaze to mine, eyes softening. “You never have to apologize for being in my office.”

Relief bubbles in my chest, the next words leaving my mouth without permission. “That was unexpectedly hot.”

His brow arches. “Hot?”

“You were so… firm. That sharp tone and commanding energy. I honestly thought you were going to spank him.”

Amusement shimmers in Theo’s eyes. “Corporal punishment has been banned in New York schools since 1985.”

Bummer.

“Well…” I bite my lip. “You could spank me, Headmaster.” It’s a joke, but his gaze darkens.

“I could do a lot more than that, sweetheart.”

My breath catches. “You could?”

He nods. “I’m in the mood to leave a mark.”

Oh, God. Yes.

His eyes rake over me, glinting dangerously, and any earlier thoughts I had about curtailing a relationship with him crumble into dust.

He’s serious.

And I want it. Fuck, I need it. I need it so badly I can hardly breathe.

I don’t know what’s come over me. I’ve never wanted to be spanked before. But the thought of Headmaster Wright bending me over his desk and laying his large hand on my ass has me wet before we’ve even begun.

“Lock the door. Now.” His tone is rough, demanding, and I can’t move fast enough.

I turn back to him, breathless with anticipation, but he hasn’t moved. He watches me for a long moment, calm and steady as always, then sinks slowly into his desk chair.

That’s when I realize why I need this so badly. It’s not only the thrill of having him dominate me, but also the sense of safety I get from him taking control. The certainty he gives me by being firm and in charge, when my feelings—when the circumstances—feel so precarious.

“Come here.”

I go to him without hesitation, pulse thudding in my throat.

“Take your hair down.”

The steel in his voice makes my knees weak with want. We haven’t even done anything yet, but already heat builds low in my abdomen. This is the Theo Wright I met, the stern, unyielding, powerful headmaster. The man I wanted from the start.

“Okay,” I whisper, reaching for my barrette.

He clicks his tongue, shaking his head just once.

What? I blink as my hair tumbles around my face. Oh.

“Yes, sir.”

A satisfied smile curves his lips. “Good girl.”