Page 287 of Bad for Me

I ran my hands up her thighs and watched her tense body relax. As I blew on her sex, I dug my fingers into the welts on her ass I'd put there a few days ago.

She flinched with pain, letting a whimper escape her.

“You've worked for everything you have.” I caressed her ass and thighs, licking my lips. “Yet when it came down to it, you protected your friends, putting you in this position. You could have freed yourself by giving them up, but you didn’t.”

I traced the outsides of her folds, rewarded with her shivering. She might not know it, but her body craved this.

“Do you know I've wanted you like this since the first day I saw you?” That was the last thing I should be admitting.

She tensed again. “You're sick.”

I swatted her ass, watching her pussy clench around nothing.

“Your body says otherwise, pet.” I dove in, lapping through her folds, her whimpers filling my ears. “You’re so wet. Always, so wet for me.”

Her body quivered as I ran my fingers over where my tongue had just been.

“Tell me you want me to bury my cock in you. That you crave this.”

I smiled when she shook her head, still whimpering at the same time she pushed back into me. Her body would always betray her and bared like this, there was no hiding it.

I wrapped my mouth around her clit as I thrust my middle finger inside her wetness, making sure to hit her g-spot as I did. She always tasted so sweet. Her legs shook as she neared her climax. It nearly killed me to pull away, but I did and stood just in time for her to try to bury her head in the counter.

“Tell me what you want.” I adjusted my cock, knowing it was just a matter of time before she begged me to take her.

I glanced up at her and she had bitten her lip to hold in her whimpers. Watching, I traced my fingers through her folds again, circling her clit. She huffed, trying to compose herself.

I wanted to stand up, undo my pants and sink my cock into her, but I needed to show her that she wanted this as bad as I wanted her. That she craved this.

Running my hands up her legs, I stood and bent over her, rubbing my cock against her ass. “I’m going to give you a choice, Natalie.” I set my phone down next to her. “You can call a car and go back to your dorm or you can join me in my living room. The choice is yours, kitten.” I kissed the spot behind her neck before I pushed myself up and left her there. She’d make the decision for me. She’d leave, I’d let her go, and maybe I could stop my obsession with her. I’d talk to Drew and see about releasing her contract because the thought of someone else touching her made me want to punch them. The donation I made on her behalf should give me some leverage.

I adjusted myself as I sat in the middle of my black leather couch, knowing I’d need to take care of myself. Why had I brought her here? I never brought anyone home. Now, every time I stood in my kitchen, I would see her bent over the counter. I was fucking screwed.

14

NATALIE

He left.He fucking left me there, bent over the counter, my thong around my knees, shaking from being so close to an orgasm, and left me denied—again. All this after ghosting me yesterday. Who the hell did he think he was?

Professor Murphy was the man I'd been with. The man who made me want things I shouldn't. He'd disguised his accent to hide his identity. How many girls had he done this to? While the thought made me mad, it wasn't for the reason I thought it should be.

He'd been at the core of my fantasies since before my wrong choice had me tumble into this world. Since that day I walked into his class and saw the six-foot-three professor in the immaculate navy-blue suit that seemed made for him. He commanded the room when he walked in and every time he brushed his hand through his hair or called my name, it was all I could do not to swoon and pinch my knees together.

In this world, where he was the man I pictured on the other side of the mask. Yes, I was angry, but I felt possessive, and I didn't like it. The thought of him with other girls made me sick.

When my breathing was under control, I stood. I glanced at his phone, where he already had the Uber app open. I should leave, but the curiosity of how knowing his identity would change things had me hesitating. If I left, would he find someone else? It hadn’t been a day, or even a week, but several of him bringing me to the edge multiple times and last night when he hadn’t called, I’d missed him. I had fucking missed him and now knowing it was my professor I had a massive crush on didn’t exactly have me hurrying out the door.

Would he still blindfold me now that I knew his identity? Would he let me touch him? My core ached at the thought. Instead of pulling up my damp thong, I kicked it off along with my Mary Jane platforms and padded in the direction I’d heard him go. I was tired of being a victim. and, admittedly, I didn't want him replacing me with someone else if I left.

I wiped my cheeks and smoothed down my skirt. Struggling with the fact he’d given me a choice to go, but not knowing what that entailed if I didn’t have him. While he tormented me, he had kept everyone else away. Before I stepped out of the kitchen, I heard light instrumental music down the hall. My thighs rubbed together, giving away at how my body was reacting to this whole fucked up situation. I sighed before continuing on to the only room with a light on.

I took a deep breath, gulping, as I stepped into the doorway. He sat on a black leather couch, legs spread, his dress shirt unbuttoned, suit jacket carefully laid on the back of a chair nearby. Professor Murphy was a gorgeous man, nothing like the boys I’d been with.

His eyes met mine and his lips turned up into a smirk. “You stayed.”

“Yes.” I rubbed my arms, trying to calm my nerves.

He rubbed his hand on his thigh, bringing my attention to the outline of his cock. I gulped, losing what nerve I thought I had.

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