Page 28 of Lessons in Sin

Like always, Tristan is held back by a group of his fans. Each and every one of them comes to this class dressed to the nines, prepared to bat their eyelashes and pout their bubble-gum pink lips at him. I send him a death glare as I pass which he catches in his teeth, the charming smile a death blow to my already weak knees.

I need to get out of here before I do something reckless and get us caught.

Heading down the corridor, I reach his office door to find that It’s unlocked, beckoning me in with a wink of its gold handles.

Slipping inside, I walk to his desk, my fingers trailing over the furniture in his office. He’s decorated more since I was last here. The room more decorated than his actual house.

I pick up the picture frame - a family photo encased in the black rims. A younger Tristan, maybe four or five years ago when he was in his early twenties, is standing with his arms around two women: a younger girl along with an older woman.

Isabel shares the same dark hair, the same devilish look in her eyes as Tristan – both of them looking as if they’re deciding whether or not to pull a funny face - the click of the camera preserving their indecision.

The one absence in the photo is glaring.

I wonder where his father is.

‘Snooping sweetheart?’ I jump and twist around, startled at his quiet entrance.

Tristan closes the door, locking it without looking and like a cat, he pounces.

His hands snake around my waist. His gaze captures mine - the green succumbing to black, need pulsing through every glance. My body responds to his touch instantly - my nipples hardening, pushing against the flimsy fabric of my shirt, begging for his tongue.

Placing his hands on my hips he turns me until I’m facing his desk.

‘Bend over.’ He isn’t asking, he’s telling, and holy hell does it make me want to whimper and submit to his every command. I bend over his desk, the wood cooling my heated skin sending shockwaves through my system, every inch of me sensitive to the touch.

His hands grab mine, pressing them down into the wood. ‘You will not move your hands. Is that clear?’ I nod, my mouth dry, but he clicks his tongue. ‘I want to hear you, Scarlett.’

‘Yes.’ I moan, pushing against him.

‘Yes sir.’ He corrects, the term dangerous in the best way.

‘Yes sir.’ I rub myself against his hardened length, the friction of his pants sending my sensitive skin into overdrive.

He steps back slightly, stealing away his warmth. Grasping the edges of my dress, he flips it up and over my ass, exposing the globes of flesh to his view.

‘Do you know what a crime it is to hide this ass, Scarlett?’ He murmurs as he slides my panties down. I stay silent, pushing my ass up towards him, silently begging for him to touch me. ‘Do you know how many men would give everything they could to be in my position right now?’

The only answer I can give is a soft mewl.

He places his hands on my ass, palming the skin. ‘But they can’t be in my position, can they?’ I shake my head ruefully. ‘Because who does this ass belong to?’

‘You.’ I cry, pressing against his hand while a delicious shiver skitters down my spine.

‘Correct.’ He squeezes my ass. His voice lowers, the tone darkening into something unrestrained. ’You are mine; you understand me?’

‘Yes sir.’ I pant as he strokes my ass, his fingers growing closer to the heat between my legs with every stroke.

‘I don’t think you do.’ He growls.

I hear the slap resounding through his office before the pain sears through me. Crying out, I push against him, not daring to move my hands.

Pleasure and pain mingle, delicately intertwining until one balances against the other. With each burning handprint, I feel myself grow wetter, the dance tipping closer and closer towards that final act.

He goes back to stroking my ass. ’Tristan, please. I need—’

‘I know what you need.’ I feel something hot nudge against my opening, parting my lips like a flower blooming. I moan at the heat of him, having no idea how he freed himself from his pants, but not really caring either.

‘Who do you belong to.’ He whispers between clenched teeth.

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