Page 83 of Teacher's Pet

But from the sudden, overwhelming realization:

Noah Ackerman is hiding more than just his desires.

Noah wipes his mouth, the back of his hand grazing over his lips, his breathing still rough, uneven.

His eyes darken.

Before I can react, his hands clamp around my wrists, forcing them above my head, pinning me beneath him on the couch.

A sharp breath leaves me.

My body tenses, raw and aching, the echoes of his touch still thrumming through every nerve.

"Noah, are those-"

His expression snaps.

Something dangerous, something fractured, flickers across his face.

"Don't ever fucking do that again." His voice is sharp, clipped, not the usual commanding dominance, but something wounded.

Something afraid.

"You don’t fucking tell me what to do."

His grip tightens around my wrists.

Like a switch has flipped inside him, Noah's energy shifts, a wall slamming down between us.

His body presses heavier against mine, his breathing measured and controlled.

"With me, you are mine to fucking use," he hisses. "You have no power."

But this isn’t the same intoxicating control he usually exerts.

This feels different.

Rattled.

Defensive.

Is he embarrassed?

I don’t dare ask.

Noah leans in, his voice like smoke against my ear.

"Is that fucking understood?"

A slow, creeping shiver rolls through me.

I hesitate, still trying to gauge what just happened, still trying to understand him.

But after the beating my body just took, I know better than to push him too far.

I swallow, my voice hoarse.

"Yes," I whisper. "Yes, I understand."

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