Page 12 of Savage Ambition

“Would he still be friends with you if he knew what we did last night?” I murmured. “Would he forgive you if he knew how badly you want to beg me to fuck you and scream my name when you came?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Shaw struggled against me with an impressive growl.

Capturing both his wrists in one hand, I pressed them above his head against the wall. I used my height to loom over him and force him to look up at me.

“Liar,” I breathed against his ear, my free hand gripping his jaw to hold him still. “It’s all you can think about now. How it feels to kiss me. How I made you come harder than anyone ever has.”

I dragged my teeth along the shell of his ear, making him shudder beneath me. “Every time you close your eyes, you can’t stop wondering what it would feel like to have me inside you, stretching you open, making you take every thick inch of my cock until you’re sobbing with pleasure.”

“That’s not true,” he protested, but his voice cracked, betraying him.

I pressed my thigh between his legs to tease his hardness. “Your cock says otherwise.” I applied more pressure, and his eyes fluttered shut. “Tell me what you want, Shaw.”

He remained stubbornly silent.

“Admit it. You want me.” I moved my hand up to trace his bottom lip with my thumb, pushing it into his mouth. “Desperately.”

His pupils dilated, nearly swallowing the green of his eyes. “I can’t—I shouldn’t—” Shaw protested, even as his tongue darted out to taste me.

“But you will,” I whispered, sliding my thumb in deep enough for him to suck on, moving it in and out in a mockery of a blow job. “You’ll pay whatever it costs because you can’t stop thinking about being inside me. About making me yours, even if it’s only for an hour.”

“No,” he spat, but he ground against my thigh.

I chuckled. “Another lie.” I slid my hand between us, cupping him through his jeans and squeezing hard enough to make his breath catch. “Too bad your body can’t lie as well as your mouth.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

I reached down to unbutton his jeans, the sound of his zipper loud in the empty classroom.

A small, desperate sound escaped him. His head fell back against the wall. Anyone could walk by the door, peer through the small window, and see him falling apart under my touch. “Someone could see,” he complained, but made no move to stop me.

“Let them,” I replied, leaning closer until our lips were almost touching. “I never mind having an audience.”

A tremor ran through him as my hand slipped inside his underwear, wrapping around his already hard cock. “Why are you doing this?” His hips thrust into my grip.

“Because I can,” I said, stroking him slowly, my thumb collecting the wetness at his tip. “Because you want me to.”

“Did you go home last night and jerk off thinking about what we did?”

His flush deepened, spreading down his neck. “Stop.”

“Make me,” I challenged, giving him a slow, deliberate stroke that made his eyes roll back. “You can’t, can you? Because despite all your protests, you want this. Want me.”

I stroked him faster, watching his face contort with pleasure. When his breathing quickened, I stopped.

“No,” he gasped, his hips jerking forward, seeking contact that wasn’t there.

“No?” I echoed. “I thought you wanted me to stop.”

He glared at me. “You know what I meant.”

I traced the head of his exposed cock with my index finger, collecting the precum beading at the tip. “Maybe you should be more specific about what you want.”

“Touch me,” he gritted out.

“Where?” I asked, my finger hovering just above his skin. “How? Be exact, Shaw.”

His jaw clenched. “My cock. Stroke me like before.”