Page 9 of Meeting Melody
I blow out a breath.I’m in control here. “That’s not part of the game, Jacob.”
He shrugs and releases me, but his jaw tics. He wants me to do what he says—but that’s impossible. I’m not a wind-up doll, and I’m not a puppet. I don’t follow orders just because someone barks at me.
A lesson that took far too long to drill into my head.
I take my seat and drag his paper closer. He keeps eyeing me, and it makes me clumsy. The paper slides off my desk, fluttering in a mad pattern to the floor.
Jacob is up before I can react, circling the desk and kneeling. He snags the paper and pauses, his head level with my knees. Slowly, he reaches out and curls his hand around my bare ankle.
I bite the inside of my cheek. My heart is suddenly racing, and I watch him inch his palm up, over my calf. To the inside of my knee, then the outside of it.
I shouldn’t have worn a skirt today.
He opens my legs.
I gasp and jerk backward. My chair slides away from him, until it hits the wall. A smirk crosses his features, and he advances toward me on his knees.
Why is that sexy?
I close my eyes when he pries my knees apart. My skirt is the only restriction, tight around my thighs. It keeps him from seeing the worst…
“You can’t,” I whisper. “This is so wrong.”
He ignores me and pushes my skirt up. His shoulders fit between my knees, forcing my legs wider. “It’s not stopping you from wanting it, though.”
I lean back and close my eyes.
“I think you’ve wanted me for longer than you’ve let on.” He runs his finger up my inner thigh. “This game is exciting to you, isn’t it? A thrill that your boring life here in Crown Point was lacking. So grade the paper, Professor.”
My throat is tight. He can’t know that. “Jacob—”
“Grade. The. Paper. Professor.”
I reach for it. As soon as I start reading his edited analysis, he runs his finger under the hem of my panties. I flinch, but he doesn’t seem to mind. Or notice. He’s just teasing me now, holding my legs wide and taking stock of me.
Why that turns me on, I don’t know.
I’m going to Hell for this.
He runs his hands up the outsides of my thighs and grips my ass, dragging me to the edge of the chair. I almost drop the paper and stare down at him. He smirks and rips my panties with one pull.
“Jacob!” I yelp. “That’s quite enough—”
“Shut up, Melody.” He pulls the torn fabric away, pocketing it absentmindedly. He’s fixed on the apex of my thighs. Without warning, he pushes a finger inside me.
“Oh god.” I drop the paper and grip the arms of my chair. Is this happening?
And yet, I don’t shove him away.
“You’re not grading,” he says.
“You’re violating me,” I whisper. “I don’t want it.”
“Your cunt says otherwise.” He leans down and licks me.
He licks me.
And it sends electric zaps through my body like I’ve never been fucking touched before. A moan slips out before I can stop it, and he does it again. And again. He fists a hand in my skirt and swipes his tongue against my clit, then lower. His tongue pushes into me, and I bite my lip to keep from making a sound.
