Page 8 of Teach Me
‘You know what I mean.’ The unabashed hunger in his eyes resonated in every cell in my body. ‘We both know why I made sure I’d be your dissertation supervisor. It’s the same reason you didn’t ask for someone else. It’s also why you’re in the library every evening, working in a room directly across from my office.’
There was no point in refuting his accusation, but his admissions stunned me.
He tilted his head. ‘Unless there’s more between you and Joshua than I’m aware of? A history, perhaps?’
‘God, no.’
‘Good.’ His gaze left mine to sweep over my exposed cleavage. ‘And there’s no one else in your life that would object?’
It was a moot question. He knew I was single, as our debates often veered into personal admissions I later regretted. He had a habit of knocking down my walls, but what else could he bring out in me? When his eyes lifted to mine, they teemed with endless possibilities, and I sucked in a breath as my mind filled with delicious images. Dr Braithwaite with his hand on my head as I licked his cock from base to tip. Dr Braithwaite bending me over his desk while he?—
I shook my head to dispel those thoughts. ‘Whatever you’re suggesting won’t be valid without proper data. How would I measure the effect of this experiment?’
‘Good question.’ I breathed a slight sigh of relief when he stepped back to collect a paper from his desk. ‘These questionnaires are used to track arousal and changes in sexual preferences based on exposure to different stimuli,’ he said, passing it to me. ‘I want you to complete them now and after the study.’
My jaw slacked. He’d planned this.
‘It would also be prudent for you to make a list of specific degrading acts you consider deviant,’ he continued. ‘Five items should be sufficient.’
‘Why?’
He folded his arms, assuming his role as my teacher, and gave me a stern look. ‘As you should know by now, the only way to test someone’s response to new stimuli is to encourage them to embrace it. It’s like sampling new food, Ophelia. You may think you don’t like shrimp, but how do you know unless you’ve tried it?’
My lips flattened. BDSM and fussy eating were hardly comparable.
‘We’ll meet in my office every week until your exams at the end of January, after which you’ll resubmit your ethics application with a less biased hypothesis.’ He gestured to thepaper clenched in my hand. ‘There’s also a link to an online diary where you can log your emotional state and rate your level of arousal every morning and evening?—’
‘A diary?’
‘It’s safe. All data you provide will be anonymised and kept confidential. I also want you to report any sexual dreams, fantasies, masturbation, and use of pornographic material.’
I almost dropped the paper. He wanted to know whether I masturbated? Hell, no. I wouldn’t put that in writing. ‘I don’t watch porn.’
‘You will if I ask you to.’
My whole body tingled, right down to my toes.
He tucked his hands into his pockets, resting back on his heels. ‘I require your obedience and honesty for the duration of this experiment. If you provide false data or withhold anything from me, the study will be invalid.’
‘No fake orgasms then,’ I blurted in a half-hearted attempt to pretend the only thing I cared about was the research data.
It earned me another smile. ‘Do you accept my conditions?’
Part of me wanted to run out the door and pretend we’d never had this conversation, but I was floating on a cloud from the prospect of having him all to myself for a month and had to pinch myself to check I wasn’t dreaming.
‘Ophelia?’ he prompted when I only stared at him, my mind swirling with images of us playing out fantasies I’d had since the first time I saw him. ‘Do you accept?’
‘Okay.’
‘Excellent.’ He smiled. ‘I’ll see you Monday morning. Consider your choices carefully over the weekend.’
Oh, I would – with my vibrator.
Dr Braithwaite returned to his satchel as if nothing unusual had happened, so I pushed off the table and headed for the door, wobbling a bit on my heels.
‘And Ophelia,’ he said before I could escape the room. ‘Wear the boots.’
Chapter Three
