Page 20 of See Me After Class

A reluctant grin tugged at my lips. Her audacity was astounding.

"And what about you?" I probed, stretching languidly. "Does the idea of control entice you?"

Her shoulders gave a casual shrug as she methodically unbuttoned my trousers. "Not particularly," she admitted. "But I'm open to exploring your preferences, no judgment. After all, it's hardly the most peculiar fetish I've encountered."

My gaze lingered on her small, perfectly shaped breasts, crowned with strawberry-pink nipples, as she leaned down to undress me. The proximity of her face to my growing arousal was predictably effective.

"You're full of surprises," I commented, striving for nonchalance. "You're far more liberated than you appear."

Her hand glided along my length with a practiced ease, forcing me to suppress a groan. Dessie kept her gaze lowered, intently observing the glistening tip.

"Appearances are deceptive," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. "In the end, they're inconsequential."

Her words hung in the air as she enveloped the head of my cock with her lips, teasing before descending further. My head lolled back, overwhelmed by the sensation. Her mouth was an exquisite blend of warmth and pressure, drawing me deeper with each movement.

"This can't be real," I whispered to myself, disbelief coloring my tone.

Her nails grazed the sensitive skin beneath my balls, sending tingles up my spine. The sight of her dark hair bobbing in rhythm with her movements almost pushed me to the edge.

No. This wasn't how this would go down, with me completely out of control. I frowned and placed my hands on her shoulders, making her pause.

The frown reflected on her lips. "What?"

Her eyes, a stormy gray, were distant and detached. Strands of hair clung to her sweat-drenched forehead, framing her like a fallen angel.

Beneath her veneer of indifference, I saw it, the raw, undeniable desire. It was etched in the firm set of her chin, the taut line of her jaw.

At that moment, she was irrevocably mine.

I inhaled the scents of caramel and vanilla nestled between her breasts. "Tell me what Dessie stands for," I persisted.

Her chest rose and fell. "Desdemona. Are you done interviewing me? If yes, can we get on with it?"

"Ouch." I grinned into the hollow. "But also, happy to oblige, Madam. I do have one condition, I'm afraid."

"What is it?" she asked, arching her back as my breath tickled her chest.

"I'm not fucking you for the first time in this hovel. You will come to my room in ten minutes."

She pushed back immediately. Had I overdone it?

"Why ten minutes?" she asked suspiciously. "What are you going to do? Sharpen the knives?"

I laughed. "Nothing of the sort," I replied warmly. "But I like to be prepared beforehand, and as delectable as this is" —I smelled her again— "If we're to do this, we’ll do it right."

8

Dessie

Ignoring the sharp pang in my chest, I draped the one robe in my closet over my body. This wasn't going the way I had planned.

Leon's demand for the change in territory did not bode well for me. Beautiful as his room would surely be, it made me powerless, like I was about to be hunted. Besides, I was one of those people who needed the comfort of my own space to function.

You're losing control before you even gain it. Way to go.

I ground my teeth together, frustrated beyond measure. I had Leon's room. I knocked on the door thrice, three precise raps. The footsteps sounded a good thirty seconds later.

The bastard is taking his time. He's enjoying this.

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