Page 35 of See Me After Class

I buried one of my hands in her hair. "Look at me," I growled. "I want to see your face when I make you come."

I watched her pupils dilate as her transfixed gaze fell on mine, then on my cock as I continued to thrust into her eager crevice. There was nothing tender or sweet about this. Just theelemental ferocity of something as unstoppable as the storm in full flow, working up to the breaking point.

Her breasts trembled and shuddered each time I thrust into her, the nipples distended and delicious in the golden light bathing the room.She is treasure and temptation and man's greatest downfall.I recalled reading that line somewhere, once, in another life where I was still in possession of my senses.

I thrust again and again, working myself up to a fever pitch of excitement. This was everything I needed and nothing I saw coming. I reached the ragged edges of my self-restraint and knew with satisfaction that she was right there with me.

I pulled her up into my arms for the last few thrusts, needing as much closeness as humanly possible. She coiled her arms and legs around me, ivy around a tree trunk, and nestled her head in my shoulder. Her slender body rose and fell on my cock, working in perfect harmony with me. I rammed my cock up into her again and again, desperate for release.

It came like a crashing wave, taking me over. Desdemona's head fell back and she released an aching sigh. The muscles of her throat clenched, blue veins starkly protruding from underneath her translucent skin as she screamed soundlessly against the roar of the rain.

I lifted up one last time and thrust into her as deep as I could, then held still. I let go of my own orgasm, pumping endlessly into her womb, panting with the pure relief of agony.

She climaxed, her inner muscles clutching my pulsating cock in her final throes before she collapsed into my arms. I held her steady, letting my breathing slow down.

Outside, the cold rain still swept across the valley, obscuring the horizon. Desdemona nestled in my arms, warm and lithe and utterly mysterious.

"I should go," she mumbled into the sweaty skin of my shoulder. "I'm going."

"Okay." I was too exhausted to object. And if she wanted to escape, where would she go tonight, in this pouring rain?

"Okay." She reluctantly dragged herself away from me and stooped to gather up her clothes. "Two minutes."

It took less than that for her to get dressed. I was still pulling my trousers up when she halted at the door of my office, looking back at me without really seeming to see me at all.

"I shouldn't have done it," she said, almost to herself. "This was really stupid."

Yeah. You and me both, I thought bitterly as I watched her slip away out of sight.

14

Dessie

Ihurried along the long wooden corridors as quietly as I could, praying I wouldn’t wake anyone up. It was past midnight, though I had no right to be in the senior staff floor at any time of the day unless I was specifically called in.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

In the space of less than twenty-four hours, I'd had my mind turned inside out by two of the men who were on the list of most likely suspects for my adopted father's murder. If I was bent on revenge, then they'd had theirs already. I wasn't supposed to lose control like this.

At least the thing with Leon was planned, and it sort of worked out as the beginnings of a steady source of information.

Tonight with John Galbraith, however… this was different. This was me getting so careless that I allowed myself to be caught in what was starting to feel more and more like an ambush.

I froze in my tracks, just around the corner of the landing that led upstairs.

Was it an ambush? Did he suspect something?

He'd definitely asked some searching questions at my interview. When Hartley worked his magic and got me on the staff in the Institute, he hadn’t mentioned anything about an initial interview with the most powerful man on the premises now that Oswald was gone.

Was that deliberate? Maybe there was something odd about my resumé, though in recent years, every other person you met was guaranteed to have odd gaps in their work history since Covid hit.

That was the new normal, but perhaps not here. Perhaps I had underestimated how closely knit the medical research community was likely to be.

Or maybe the car was a mistake. I probably should have driven up in a secondhand piece of junk. Junior staff were definitely not making enough to afford a Lamborghini, and if I hadn't been Oswald's principal heir, I wouldn't even have qualified for a car loan.

Which is why I did it. I didn't even know that much about cars. In Newhaven, I usually got around on the local buses. But Uncle Cuthbert told me it was easier to drive to Stillingbrook than to take a series of connecting trains, so I needed a car.

And for some reason, I bought the most expensive, most conspicuous car I could find online. Maybe it was the sight of the number of zeroes trailing Oswald's personal fortune that did something weird to my brain.

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