Page 81 of Love in the Dark
“That’s why you asked me here?” My voice outright shakes now, but I think it’s trepidation and anticipation, not fear.
I feel like my mind and body have gone mad. I can’t make sense of what I think or feel, if I’m afraid or if I’m excited, if I want to run away and hope he leaves me alone or run and pray he comes after me.
“Run, jailbait,” he threatens.
Adrenaline wraps around my heart and squeezes. My blood thrashes, powerful waves beating against the walls of my veins.
“Let’s talk about this,” I try to rationalize. Everything my upbringing taught me, everything my mother has driven into me daily since I was a child, tells me that I should be appalled by this. Instead, I’m rubbing my thighs together to keep my arousal from leaking down my leg.
The promise of a total lack of control is enticing in a way I can’t articulate. The promise of a few minutes of freedom is alluring beyond words.
“Sure, but you’re just wasting your time. Literally,” he adds, looking at his watch. “Four and a half minutes.”
“I can’t.” His eyes flash. “Not in this dress,” I add.
His gaze flicks down to my gown in appreciation and then he drops to his knees before me. More of my arousal pools at my entrance. How am I meant to feel anything but uncontrollable desire watching him kneel at my feet. I can’t help but reach out and cup his nape, playing with the hair at the base of his head.
The look he gives me is downright orgasmic. No one should look this good on their knees for someone else.
I find myself hoping that he never does this with another girl again.
I manifest clawing her eyes out with my fresh manicure if he does.
The sound of fabric tearing loudly rips through the night and I gasp. My eyes go to the hem of my dress, now approximately two feet shorter than before and hanging crudely above my knees.
A half-tormented, half-lustful groan falls from my lips.
“That was couture,” I say, breathlessly.
His fingers trail up the back of my calves in a tantalizing caress. “I’ll buy you another one.”
“I don’t think you can afford it,” I sass back, my eyes closing and my legs arching into his touch. There’s no way a professor, even one at a school as prestigious as RCA, can spare the expense of purchasing this custom-made gown. But then again, his salary wouldn’t cover a penthouse suite at a five-star hotel or an AP watch either and he managed both of those things.
A frown pulls at my brows as I think of that.
His hand crawls under the newly shortened hem of my skirt and slaps my ass sharply. I yelp, my eyes flying open and dropping to stare into his crystal-clear irises, now darkened with arousal.
“Four minutes,” he says with a smile that sends a heated shiver down my spine. He cups my right heel and lifts it, removing my stiletto and setting my foot down on the cool grass. He repeats the same motion with my left.
“Why are you smiling?”
“Because you’re going to pay for that sass in less than ten minutes,” he says, giving me a sharp toothed grin. Danger rushes up my skin and over to the sensitive area at the back of my neck. It’s met there with exhilaration and a fresh wave of adrenaline, the exact same potion of emotions I’d felt running and jumping into the pond with Six and Thayer.
His fingers are back on my legs and cupping the back of my thighs. He looks up at me, his eyes shining with excitement. His pupils are so dilated with desire that he looks almost unrecognizable. The sight of them blown wide like that makes my throat tight.
He rises slowly. His hands run up my body, touching every inch of my curves on his way to standing. He brushes his nose against mine.
“Your safe word is ‘colors’,” he whispers into my mouth before claiming it with his. He ravages me with carnal skill, his lips tasting like alcohol and making the kiss even more dizzying.
My spine tingles and I tilt my mouth away to suck in a breath. “Why do I need a safe word?”
He gently brushes a loose strand of hair off my face and curls it behind my ear. “Because I’m going to chase you through that cold, dark forest. I’m going to run after you and use your scent and your sounds and the smell of your fear in the air to hunt you like an animal.” He presses a rough kiss against my mouth, finding it parted on a shocked gasp. He bites the corners of my lips. “And when I find you, I’m going to force you to your knees and finally shove my cock down your insolent little mouth. I’m going to fuck your throat like I’ve been dreaming of for weeks and I won’t stop until you’re gagging loudly around me.” A powerful shudder zips through him, shaking his shoulders. “Fuck, maybe I’ll even record it, use the sound as my alarm to wake me up in the mornings.”
“Tristan…,”
“That sounds an awful lot like a needy moan, baby,” he whispers, moving to nip my jaw. There it is again, that word.
Baby.