Page 53 of Every Shade of Shadow

I turn.

His eyes are hungry as he takes in my flushed cheeks and trembling limbs. I feel his desire mirrored in the hard length straining against my belly as he presses towards me.

With a growl, he seizes my mouth in a hard kiss. Fresh magic flares to life, igniting my nerve endings. I gasp as invisible flames lick along my skin, intensifying every sensation, the lingering effects of the Fire Lash.

He drags his lips to my throat, biting down as the burning spell intensifies and it feels like, once more, I am Joan of Arc, cast into the flames. "More," I moan, craving this exquisite torture.

He’s biting hard. It’s going to leave a mark, but I don’t care. Let the world see I’m his property. Let the world see he owns me.

"Greedy little witch." His hands slide upwards, tweaking my nipples and sending sparks of pleasure-pain through my body. "You're insatiable, aren’t you?"

I rock my hips against him, chasing friction. "Only for your touch, Professor."

Another nip of teeth, this time at the sensitive spot below my ear. The hint of pain magnifies my arousal, pushing me higher and higher toward delirium.

He whispers a rapid-fire incantation. At once the sensation becomes close to overwhelming.

Oh, God, please…

But he pulls away, once more leaving me breathless.

"Come. I have oils to soothe your discomfort."

I let him help me up on still-wobbly legs, leaning into him as we walk over to a cabinet in the corner. Various bottles and jars line the shelves, some glowing with magic. In many ways, it reminds me of Gran’s medicine cabinet, though I imagine what’s gathered here will treat more than a migraine.

What would she think? I wonder. What would she say about you debasing yourself for this man, letting him use you like this?

I push away the thought.

The Professor selects a vial of golden liquid and bids me to stand with my hands braced on the wall. I obey, presenting my sore behind for him. Arching my back, I splay my fingers out over the wall, my cheek brushing the stone.

New warmth suffuses my skin as he massages the oil into my buttocks and thighs. His touch is firm yet gentle as he uses slow, clockwise motions to move over my flesh. He places both thumbs on either side of my lower spine and keeps them parallel to one another as he works downwards. I find myself drifting under the combination of his skill and the oil's soothing effect.

Too soon, he withdraws, stepping back and wiping his hands on a cloth. "You may leave,” he says, unwilling to throw another glance in my direction.

I stand there stupefied.

That’s it?

All that and he’s just going to send me away?

“Well?” he says, sharp.

I’m suddenly embarrassed, using an arm to cover my breasts while I make towards my coat, but the Professor shifts to stand in my way. “You won’t be needing that, I’m afraid.”

“But I’m naked.”

His face betrays no emotion. “I see that.”

“You can’t seriously expect me to go out there like this?”

He holds up my room key. I never saw him take it from my coat. “I’m afraid so.”

It’s late, and a long way back to my room. What am I supposed to say if someone sees me? ‘Oh, hi, just taking a gentle midnight stroll in my birthday suit.’

“Please,” I beg, but this seems to anger him.

His features become stormy, clouded. “Leave.” He raises his hand and the door to his chamber unlatches, swinging wide.

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