Page 40 of Arrogant Professor

Vincent cradled my head against his chest.

“I noticed you still haven’t said yes.”

He brushed his thumb against my clit with a teasing touch. I whined and arched my hips up for more.

“Yes,” I gasped.

“Good,” he replied with a smile. “Call your sister. Tell her the news.”

I grabbed his wrist.

“Why would I—?”

A wicked gleam came into his eyes. I trailed off as I caught onto his plan. Scrambling for my phone, I pulled up my sister’s number. She answered on the first ring.

“Giselle, where are you?”

Vincent picked up the pace, fingering me harder, faster. I squirmed in his lap.

“You went to Dean Wilcox, didn’t you?” I demanded, gripping the front of Vincent’s shirt.

“You should be ashamed of yourself,” Helene shot back. “Having sex with a professor. Let alone someone like Stonebridge. He’s too smart for you.”

Vincent pressed his thumb to my clit in measured circles. I whimpered.

“Giselle?” Helene said. “What are you—?”

“He’s mine,” I rasped.

“What?” she snapped.

“Professor Vincent Stonebridge is my boyfriend, and soon to be my husband. If you flirt with him again—if you lay a finger on him—I will make your life a living hell. Do you understand?”

Helene scoffed.

“Is that a threat? Are you threatening me? I’m your goddamn sister.”

“It’s funny how that didn’t stop you from stabbing me in the back,” I countered.

“I was protecting you.”

Vincent gave my clit a light tap-tap. Electric shocks of pleasure shot through me. My legs twitched, threatening to close. He wedged them open with his forearm.

“You couldn’t stand to see me happy, could you?” I replied.

Helene went stone-cold silent. I hated being right.

“He doesn’t love you, Giselle,” she said at last. “You’re a fool if you think otherwise.”

Vincent must have overheard because a shadow crossed his eyes. He pinched my clit until I squealed. He took the phone out of my hand and pressed it to his ear.

“You saw us together,” he said. “If you can’t tell I was willing to lay everything on the line for this woman, you’re fucking blind.”

Then he tossed the phone aside. The next thing I knew, Vincent had me pinned to the couch, fumbling his cock free from his slacks. With one powerful thrust, he was buried inside me with a stretch that made my legs shake. I felt every inch of his throbbing length, his balls pressed to my ass, his mouth hot at my ear.

“That’s my good fucking girl,” he growled.

Epilogue

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