Page 50 of The Omega Lesson

I groan. “He hasn’t got a subtle bone in his body. The sooner you’re out of the boarding house, the better.”

He smirks. “Pretty sure he’s joining the staff to be closer to you.”

“If he lasts a week, I’ll be amazed. But I’ll be sure to ask him all about it when I give him the school tour next period.” Mattie arches a brow at that, and I nod. “Yup. Asked for me personally, right in front of the entire faculty.”

“No wonder you’re so pink,” he smirks, touching my cheek. “Or was it the tight pants and crop that made you blush?”

I just shake my head and blow cool air up over my face. “I swear, the two of you are going to kill me before I get a chance to fail my probation.”

That puts an end to his teasing and after I unload a bunch of apples on him to share with his friends, we both head to class. But I can’t concentrate, and breathe a sigh of relief when the bell rings. I go straight to the office, only to have Maureen tell me Mr. Lyall is at the stables. I huff and start the trek across campus, muttering about spoiled dressage teachers all the way.

The school stables is an area I tend to avoid, since it’s usually teeming with cadets on horseback acting like they’re about to charge into battle. But today it’s quiet, other than the man taking a massive black horse through its paces in a circular ring.

I have to admit, it’s a sight worth the trek. Noah moves so seamlessly around the ring, it’s hard to tell when the horse ends and he begins. And it’s an impressive display of control, his mount’s head in a tight arch and every step a measured bounce. I can’t imagine how many hours it has taken for them to learn how to work together so perfectly, and I sigh in disappointment when he moves into a smooth trot back to the stables.

I follow, ogling his arse as he dismounts and walks the horse to his stall. “Impressive. And you must be so thrilled to have reached the pinnacle of your career, teaching riding lessons at Prendiville. Interesting you didn’t mention your new job this morning.”

“Grab a piece of chalk,” he says brusquely, his back to me as he removes the saddle and starts brushing down his horse.

“What?”

“Chalk for your lines.” He points to an old blackboard mounted at the end of the block of stables. “You’ll need to stand on that hay bale to reach, but I still expect you to make them legible. Twenty lines, all the same size.”

I gape at him. “What exactly am I writing?”

“’Good girls don’t give away their apples.’” He turns to give me brooding black eyes. “Write it, Lexi. Over and over, until I know you believe it.”

He reaches for his crop and I nearly give in to the laughter that’s gurgling up my throat. But every line of his body is taut with tension, and he looks way too comfortable smacking the leather tip on his thigh. I bite back a grin and put on my best mum voice. “I thought it would be a nice gesture for Mattie to share them with his friends.”

But Noah just scowls at me. “Don’t bring the bratty boy into this. I’ll take care of him later. Right now, I’m interested in adjustingyourattitude.”

I smirk, but accept his piece of chalk, and kicking off my heels, climb onto the hay bale. The board is old and dusty, but I use a rag to scrub it down, then start carefully writing the lines. It’s kind of relaxing working on my loops and flourishes, making sure everything is neat and legible. I’ve always had great penmanship, and I get to live out a little teacher fantasy of mine, since no one uses chalkboards anymore.

“Very pretty,” a raspy voice says behind me, right as I feel something slither across my knee. I’m wearing one of my sensible skirts, but I’m just at the right height for Noah to feed the tip of his crop under my hem. “But I’m not sure this punishment is really getting through to you.”

I cock a brow over my shoulder as the leather tip travels up my thigh. “No? I think my penmanship is awesome.”

“Your penmanship?” His voice is a borderline growl. “You think that’s the lesson I want you to take home today?”

“Um.” I stare at the neat lines on the board, feeling the crop slip across the front of my undies. My heart is suddenly beating in my ears and I’m clutching the chalk so tight I’m surprised it doesn’t snap. “No. I think you want me to know I’m a bad girl.”

“You’re not a bad girl,” he tells me, the crop now drawing circles on my mound. “But you did a very bad thing.”

Holy crap. I thought I liked to be praised, but maybe getting scolded by an angry dressage teacher is my kink. “Because I didn’t keep my apples to myself?”

“Not quite. Turn around.” I obey with embarrassing speed, one hand going out to grab his shoulder as I try to keep my balance on the hay bale. And instead of shrugging me off, he snaps the crop against my undies, just hard enough to make me jump. “Take them off.”

I gape at him, the smirk sliding off my face. “Here?”

“Here. And don’t make me repeat myself, Miss Novak. The instruction is perfectly clear.”

I gulp, but hitch up my skirt just enough to pull my black cotton undies down my thighs. It’s not exactly a seductive striptease with me clinging to his shoulder and wobbling on the hay bale, but when I get them off, he snatches them up and tucks them in his pocket. “Good. Now stand there quietly and think about the question I asked you.”

I arch my brows at him, but his crop is already working its way back under my skirt. Without my undies in the way, the leather tip slips right in, pushing between my folds. It’s coarser than a finger, but the texture feels incredible, and I bite out a low moan. I expect Noah to punish me for the noise, but he just pushes the crop in deeper. “Tell me, in your own words, what did I want you to do with the apples?”

When he pulls back and drags the leather over my clit, I have to bite my lip to swallow my scream. But Noah looks as if I’m not suffering nearly enough. “Now, I’m more than prepared to stand here all day until I drill the lesson into you. Are you ready to give me the correct response, Miss Novak, or do you need me to feed you another clue?”

The crop is now sliding in and out, the squelch as it massages my pussy, making my knees shake and my face flush. Not to mention sticking my tongue to the roof of my mouth. “I... I…”

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