Page 86 of Taming His Teacher

Tomorrow I’ll have to endure the torture of hearing her say the words through the horsehair plaster and struggle not to get a hard-on while I teach my own class, knowing she’s right on the other side of the wall thinking the same filthy thoughts I am. But for now, we get to indulge.

I lean back far enough to yank the tie from around my neck, keeping her pinned with my hips. Slipping it around her eyes, I don’t fail to notice the hard swallow that ripples her throat. Though I’ve had her blindfolded dozens of times, it still unnerves her. I love the way her teeth sink into her bottom lip in uncertainty before she releases it and takes a deep breath, her shoulders dropping and relaxing into the wall because she trusts me not to hurt her. I won’t. I never will.

Stroking her arm, I lean down and tell her what a good girl she is and she practically purrs. When I tell her to stay, and step back, she stiffens but doesn’t move. Not even when I pull my belt from its loops. She must be able to hear the whisper of leather through cotton but she doesn’t budge, doesn’t protest. And goddamn does that make me want her.

I have half a mind to take the belt to her ass and make it that perfect shade of red, but I want to draw this out, make it last, because this is something we’ve both been waiting for, craving. I could hardly believe it when she’d handed me the box last week.

We’d just finished moving into John’s old apartment. Though we were both dusty and tired, she’d smiled at me in that shy, sneaky way she has and told me to wait on the couch, where we’d collapsed after the last bag had been carried up. She’d handed me this innocuous-looking shoebox, but when I’d opened it I nearly died. One of my Hawthorn ties, a leather belt, an old-school wooden ruler, her pearl necklace, and a box of chalk. She’d knelt in front of me, wringing her hands in her lap. “I thought maybe we could—”

“Yes.” I hadn’t even known exactly what she was going to ask for but I’d been so proud of her for asking, I hadn’t cared. And when she’d mustered up the courage to spell out the details, offering up the handwritten pages from her pocket while she was tomato-red and nervous as hell, I’d been even more on board. Now that it’s happening… Perfection. That’s what she is.

I steer her arms until she’s holding them elbow-to-wrist behind her back and then I use my belt to cinch them together. This is amateur-hour bondage—I’ve had her in much more serious restraints over the summer but it’s just another layer to add to this deliciously filthy cake. And now that she’s bound up and helpless for me, the real fun can start.

The ruler she’d put in the box is sitting alone on the otherwise clear desk and I take it up to run along her cheek.

“Know what this is, lamb?”

“Yes, Zach.”

“Know what I’m going to do with it?”

Since I can’t see her eyes, my gaze is glued to her lips. I swear half the time she doesn’t need to talk because her mouth is so expressive. But goddamn, do I like to make her say things out loud.

“Yes, Zach.”

I grunt at her tease of an answer. “So that’s how we’re going to play today, huh?”

Her mouth purses up like she’s so pleased with herself but trying not to laugh and I have to smile and shake my head. She’s adorable. And is totally earning what’s coming to her. “Yes, Zach.”

“Tell me, then,” I say, drawing the ruler down her neck, slipping it between her skin and her necklace, twisting once so the strand presses into her flesh. She swallows again, the pearls bobbing against her throat.

“You’re going to…” She’s gotten better at saying things out loud but I kind of don’t want her to ever get used to it entirely. I like how it makes her squirm and blush, how she’s all prim and respectable until I’ve driven her out of her mind and then all bets are off. I twist the ruler a little more. Not near enough to cut off her air but enough to make her feel it, and she makes a strangled little noise of horny surprise. “You’re going to spank me with it, Zach.”

“Yes, I am. And won’t you enjoy that, you filthy girl?”

Her fingers curl against her elbows and she presses harder into the board. “Yes, Zach.”

I brace my wrist holding the ruler against her shoulder so I don’t accidentally twist it farther while I work her skirt up around her waist. She wriggles while I tug the fabric over her hips, and I don’t know if she’s trying to help or hinder. I don’t care. It’s a good excuse to slap the cheek I’ve exposed.

“Be still.”

She whimpers but stills the movement of her hips. I’m finally able to wrestle the skirt to where I want it and when it’s there, I’m glad for the struggle. It’s not going to go anywhere while I have my way with her sweet, round ass. I warm her up with a hand spanking, turning the skin I can see around those damn blue lace panties a sweet shade of pink. When I’ve got her all ready, I peel the stretchy lace over the curve of her ass and slide the ruler out of her necklace.

She takes a deep breath and I can see the faint indent of the pearls in her delicate skin. Those marks won’t last long but they’re here for now, whisperingMineover and over, all around her throat. I know what I’ll be drawing tonight, in a sketchbook only the two of us will ever see.

When I’ve disentangled myself, I slant a forearm across her shoulder blades and lean into her, trapping her against the wall. The breath flushes out of her lungs and she makes one of those little sex noises that never fail to make every drop of blood in my body make a break for my dick. But first…

“Ah!” If she thought I was going to take it easy on her, she was sadly mistaken. I hit her again, and again, turning her skin from pink to red in the process. She only struggles a little, a twist of her shoulders here, a turn of her hips there. Just enough to let me scold her for it and take her transgressions out on her butt.

When it’s bright red and hot to the touch, I stop and let myself touch her, loving her pleading noises as I caress and pinch her. And when I’ve had my fill of the soft, warm flesh under my fingertips, I turn her around and direct her to her knees. Her lips are sweetly parted and her tongue darts out to wet her bottom lip.

“And what does my naughty girl want now?”

“Your—your cock. Please.”

“Where do you want it?”

“Wherever you’d like, Zach.” My fly feels like it’s about to give out under the strain and I have to close my eyes and grit my teeth. Fuck all, is she sexy.

---