Page 54 of Every Shade of Shadow

I turn, covering my still aching sex with my free hand, hobbling my way out into the hall.

I look back to the room, one final glimpse of the Professor before his chamber door slams closed.

That bastard.

Wasn’t I perfectly obedient? Didn’t I do everything he asked?

It doesn’t make any sense.

I glance down the hall, turning on the spot, half-crouched and completely naked. Still wet. Still tingling from head to toe. Still wishing I was back in his chambers, savoring his kinky games. Savoring his touch alone. Nothing else. No shadows. No magic, other than what we could create together.

“Fuck,” I stammer, and start moving.

CHAPTER TWELVE

I rush to my room, a close call with a couple of students up to no good by the central spiral staircase that runs through the center of the Academy that forces me to crouch in a small alcove as they pass.

Can’t say I’m particularly keen to come across the murderer either. The last thing I want is for the entire student population to be ogling my naked corpse come morning.

I’m thankful for the candlelight at least.

I come to the final hallway before my own, come around the corner…and almost crash right into him.

‘Him’ being a pale, blond-haired boy in boxers and a white tee—a walking Ralph Lauren ad. He’s surprisingly clean cut for this hour.

He raises his hands as I pull up in front of him, bent in the middle, doing my best to cover myself.

He looks me over, a wicked smile cutting across his face. “Well, what do we have here?”

Again, bless the candlelight for not letting him see how mortified I am. Most of my figure is still in the cover of darkness, what little light there is reaching just below my shoulders. “Can I just get past?”

But he’s blocking the hallway.

He extends his hand, his smile narrowing. “Leo Wraithwood. And you are?”

I go to shake his hand, briefly removing it from my sex before thinking better and bringing it back into place.

He laughs, shaking his head in amusement. “It was worth a shot.” He drops his hand, his eyes falling to where I’m cupping myself. “If the answer to ‘Where are you going?’ is ‘my room,’ I’m happy to lead the way.”

Vom.

“No, thanks. I just really need to get back to my room.”

He seems to sum this up for a moment, eyes searching every inch of me before he steps aside. “Sure.”

I rush past him, and I just know he’s standing there gawking at my ass.

But fuck it.

I make it to my room, fumbling the key I’m so desperate to get inside.

When I do, when the door’s closed and I’m alone, I feel it again—the shadows, far more present now. They mix with the fear and the embarrassment, the pleasure and the sheer insanity of this all.

And I’ve never felt more alive.

*

I wake feeling more like myself, though there is a lingering ‘something’ there, and not the soft ache between my thighs or the echo of the whip’s kiss. I reach down and insert an experimental finger into myself, expecting the worst, but no. The tip meets a familiar resistance. Everything is as it should be. I’m still a virgin, even if what transpired with the Professor seemed anything but.

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