Page 29 of Lover
“Maybe if you weren’t so tyrannical…” she said, cross, beginning to turn away.
No you don’t.
“Me?! I rather think it’s you.” I slipped an arm around her waist, guiding her back to me. She raised her hands to press against my chest. At first I assumed she resisted out of annoyance, but the timid way she looked up into my eyes told me she was unsure, perhaps of my motives or of my expectations.
“Professor…”
“Millie,” I replied, her name a tender reassurance. I was determined to prove there was more to my love than the mere physical. “It’s Callum.”
When I kissed her, it was with all of my fondness and devotion.
She melted against me, returning my adoration in equal amount, sliding her arms around my neck so they were no longer a boundary between us. For that moment, more than our bodies were reunited.
“Do you still think I’m a beast?” I asked against her lips.
“You are,” she replied, “but I don’t mind anymore.”
“Good, because it was very hard pretending not to be.”
When our lips met again, it was with greater fervor. As her passion opened up to me again, we engulfed ourselves in it, until our haste knocked the book I’d taken from the shelf onto the floor. It fell on its spine, opening, a paper folded and tucked inside coming loose.
Misfortune made us both look down at once, to find my name scrawled angrily, like a curse, across the note.
Millie must have placed it there at some point, perhaps on a bad day when her ghosts moaned loudest in her ear, and her overwhelming dread of all the things we couldn’t perceive weighed heavily on her. Why she’d written my name, I couldn’t assume, but I experienced the mental image of her leaning miserably over the desk, hair unbrushed, her fingers making knots in the roots as she cried, never revealing what tortured her so.
With care, I untangled myself from her arms, my romance-addled mind clearing as I leaned down to retrieve the offensive thing and return it to its place.
“Are you toying with me?” she demanded. “If it’s your goal to make me so desperate I come begging for you, I swear I’ll never do it!”
The allegation was asinine, and she might as well have punched me full across the face. My reaction to it was the same.If she was so impatient for me to desecrate her body then I would oblige.
“Do tell me again how you swear you never will,” I rumbled in return.
“I’m calling your bluff, Callum Hughes, and you can fuck off!”
I’d never heard her use such language, not even in the heat of our lovemaking. Cursing had been one thing she’d never seemed able to bring herself to do. And now here she was so brazenly accusing me of heinous behavior I hadn’t even indulged in, requiring I prove to her my passions, believing I wouldn’t.
My wrath became need, and I abandoned my final inhibitions.
“Are you telling me,” I drawled, low, suggestive, “my only two options are to never touch you again or to fuck you senseless right here, in the middle of the day, with the Good Lord’s bright light shining on us?”
I’d shocked her.
“It’s an easy choice.”
In several strides, I was upon her, and in the time it took her to gasp, I’d pinned her to the bookcase and torn her blouse open to reveal the chemise beneath, the silk outlining deliciously the soft curve of her breasts and newly rigid crests of her nipples.
“This is what you wanted, isn’t it, Millie?” I demanded, needing her to tell me in no uncertain terms she wanted me to ravage her.
“Yes,” she snarled, grabbing my tie and pulling me roughly to her, where we met in a kiss that bruised us both.
There upon the desk, I divested myself of the burden of restraint and reclaimed her body.
Her cunt was tight, and she moaned in momentary pain when I entered her. I hadn’t considered that she’d gone two years without this recreation, and though I had no intentions of stopping, I paused to torment her.
“You’re not a virgin, surely?”
“Do I look the type?”
