Page 40 of Every Shade of Shadow

"Good." He pushes off from the desk and strides toward me. "Because you're mine now, body and soul, and I intend to claim every virgin inch of you."

So that’s no secret either.

He pulls me close, one hand tangling in my hair, the other sliding down to squeeze my rear. I gasp into his mouth as his tongue plunders mine, hot and demanding.

"So eager," he rasps, holding on to my ass, the tip of his tongue sliding down my throat. "So deliciously wicked. You were made for the darkness, pet, just as you were made to be mine."

"Yes," I breathe, clinging to him.

His eyes are wet with lust and something more—possession, desire, need.

Yet he drifts back. “Do you know what delayed gratification is, little lamb?”

“Of course,” I say, disappointment already rising up within me, a wall of fucking frustration.

“So you shall wait until midnight tomorrow for our prescribed lesson. You will wear your coat and nothing else when you return. Is that understood?”

I thought the lesson was now, but waiting until tomorrow, until midnight? It’s too much. But what can I do?

“Yes, Professor,” I wheeze.

He turns, busying himself with papers on his desk. “Leave.”

I know complaining isn’t going to do any good. There’s nothing to do. So, I turn on my heel and walk out, the leather-cinnamon burn of his lips still fresh on my skin.

CHAPTER NINE

A cacophony of noises stirs me from my sleep.

I bring two fingers to my forehead unsure if I’m still dreaming, because the last thing I want is to wake up in a shitty New York apartment to discover I’m being evicted today.

But no, still at Lumina.

There’s a deep male voice, shouting, people speaking outside.

I swipe away the covers and pad to the door, unlocking it and pulling it open.

In the hallway I’m confronted with a wall of people’s backs. For once, I wish I was a bit taller. Three inches would suffice.

But everyone’s here, their attention drawn to something a few feet beyond them. Keeping my eyes up, I notice a much taller man facing the gathered students, his arms extended—one of the professors. I try to place him. Elemental? I think. Maybe ethics?

“Everybody back. Please, return to your rooms.”

Which has absolutely no effect whatsoever on getting anyone to move.

The noise of the crowd has picked up, a ripple of murmurs, making it hard to understand what the professor keeps rambling about.

But one phrase floats above the rest: Crime scene.

What now?

I stand on my toes between students still in their PJs, half the guys shirtless, the guy directly in front of me reaching down to readjust his balls.

Ah, fuck this.

I elbow my way through mumbling apologies until I’m at the front of whatever this is.

And I wish I hadn’t.

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