Page 151 of Teacher's Pet

“Do you hear that, Noah?” I whisper, my voice dripping with sin, my eyes locked onto his. “Hear my fingers fucking what’s supposed to be yours?”

A muscle ticks in his jaw. His grip flexes at his sides.

Then, with a sharp inhale, he palms his arousal, his restraint slipping.

He’s almost broken.

Almost.

Pulling my fingers from myself, I bring them to my lips, my tongue trailing over the tips, slow and deliberate, savoring every bit of my own slickness as I meet his gaze with a knowing smirk.

“Mmm,” I purr, eyes hooded. “Remember that, Noah?”

His breathing shudders, his pupils blown wide, dark with lust.

“Remember how sweet I taste?” I taunt, licking the last of my mess from my fingers, my every move designed to unravel him further.

His control snaps.

“I do,” Noah growls, his voice low, dangerous.

His hands move fast, his belt undone in one sharp pull, his eyes locking onto mine with an unmistakable promise.

“Time to take back what’s mine.”

Noah moves toward me with slow, deliberate intent, lowering himself to his knees between my legs. His eyes are locked onto the mess I’ve made, dark and hungry, his breathing shallow.

Then, glinting in the dim light, a blade appears.

He pulls a knife from his waistband, dragging it between his fingers before letting it hover dangerously close to my needy warmth.

“My family is bad, Ana,” he growls, his voice thick with something almost feral.

The tip of the blade kisses my thigh, a teasing whisper of cold steel against burning skin.

“I am fucking awful.” His eyes flick to mine, holding me captive as he rolls the flat edge of the knife over my damp underwear, pressing just enough to make me shudder.

“I’ve killed people,” he murmurs, his tone void of remorse. “So many.”

The words slither through me like a warning, like a promise.

Then, with one sharp flick of his wrist, the blade slices through my underwear.

A sting, a small knick against my hip, pulls a gasp from my lips, my breath catching as he tears the ruined fabric away, leaving me bare beneath him.

Blood wells at the tiny cut, a single drop sliding down my skin, trailing toward my aching heat.

Noah watches, his gaze darkening, pupils blown wide with something dangerous. Something ravenous.

“But knowing I couldn’t touch you,” he hisses, running the dull edge of the knife along my slick folds, teasing, torturing.

“Knowing someone else could be touching you,” his voice drops to a purr, velvet and wicked, “it was worse than any punishment they ever gave me.”

The mix of pain and pleasure coils in my gut, everything too much yet not enough.

Then, in one swift movement, he jams the knife into the arm of the couch, the blade sinking deep into the leather with a sharp thunk.

His eyes lift to mine, blazing with possession, with unhinged, reckless need.

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