Page 20 of Savage Surrender

He nodded, slowly walking around the desk to approach me from where I stood on the opposite side of it. “Yes, Irina.”

I fought the instinct to shiver. Hearing my name rolling off his tongue like that felt like a caress. Like a tender touch or summons. He was just so serious, so gruff and hard despite this image of a professional and by-the-books professor he had perfected.

“Do you call all your students by their first names? I thought you were all about formality.”

“That’s what I’m calling you. For now.” He continued to stalk closer to me, his deep brown stare boring into me and making me more turned on than I’d ever been. Having this tall, sexy man stalk toward me had me reeling from the sensation of being prey. Hunted prey.

Do you refer to all your other students with that deep, rich bedroom voice, too?

I hoped he didn’t. I wanted to feel special, to feel seen by him.

“For now?” I asked.

He nodded, stepping right up into my personal space, just like he had done at that party last week. Immediately, his body heat and scent hit me, and I hated how badly I wanted to lean into his touch, to fall into his arms and let him catch me and hold me.

Looking down at me, he forced me to crane my neck to peer up at his serious and intense gaze. This man wasn’t just challenging me not to look away. He was giving me a preview of what it felt like when a man was wholly focused on a woman.

“Yeah. For now,” he replied, lowering his voice even more.

“What else would you call me?” I asked. The second the words left my mouth, I shuddered under the drugging charge of carrying on with this conversation I had no business having with my professor. With any man.

He was flirting with me. Hitting on me. It was such a novel experience, something that hadn’t even happened with someone outside of the Mafia world, that I didn’t want it to ever stop.

“I would call you whatever I wanted,” he said, like a rich promise of sinister intent. “It doesn’t matter what I’d call you. If you think you can get away with wasting my time, I’ll punish you.”

Oh.

My.

God.

I swallowed hard. My mouth was suddenly so dry as my heart raced too fast. I couldn’t fill my lungs with enough air, dizzy with this haze of tension that claimed me. I had no experience with talking to a man like this. I had zero background in handling these kinds of sexy scenarios to rely on for guidance.

The idea of him punishingme, showing me how he’d want me to behave, was such a naughty thought I could barely stand it. Already sucking in a gasp, I sounded like a wanton woman, held on the edge of a line that bordered logic and desire.

I wasn’t a fan of pain, but with one long study of my professor’s wicked stare on me, I just knew that his brand of pain wouldn’t be something I’d dread but something I’d yearn for. His idea of pain would somehow bring me so much pleasure.

“You think you could punish me?” I retorted when I could speak after the shock settled in my mind.

“I don’tthinkI could, Irina.” He stepped forward again, brushing his leg against mine.

I didn’t think it was possible for him to be any closer. I didn’t realize how potent the faintest touch against him could unravel my resolve to look unaffected and stay strong.

“Iwill,” he promised instead. “If you want to push your luck with me, if you want to try me…” He laughed once, a low chuckle that reinforced his deep, gruff voice. “Fuck around and find out.”

I slid the tip of my tongue along my lower lip, needing moisture there from my jaw dropping and breathing so quickly and shallowly for him. I’d never been so turned on in my life, but seeing his gaze darken as he tracked the movement of my tongue aroused me even more. Witnessing howIimpacted him was a heady triumph to enjoy.

“How dare you talk to me like this, Professor Remi?—”

He grabbed my hand, clutching it not gently but not cruelly either. “Viktor,” he corrected. “You will call me Viktor.”

“Because you’re tossing out all formality, telling me to fuck around and push you?”

His responding grin was so slow and sexy that I wished I could have the courage to kiss it right off his face.

“Because I want to hear you say my name, Irina. I want to see how your face lights up when you say it.”

“Lighting up with anger, maybe,” I argued.

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