23

Blaine

"Azira!" Adrianna Vasquez's voice echoes down the alleyway, making both of us freeze like statues.

I wipe Azira's exquisite arousal from my mouth and then rise to my feet, holding her gaze.

She's about to speak when I move forward and place a hand over her mouth. "Quiet," I mouth.

She nods in response, her eyes wider than saucers.

I release my hand from her mouth, but grab her hips instead. The idea of letting her go just yet does not sit well with me. Getting caught by a student wouldn't be ideal, but it's not really a huge concern. After all, Archer has been trying to get into Vasquez's pants. It's not unheard of and, unlike Oak, I'm not responsible for the reputation of this academy. However, I don't really want this bubble to burst that we've found ourselves wrapped up in.

The sneaking around only makes it more thrilling. I know I shouldn't be doing this, crossing a line with a student like Azira. A virgin who is clearly not innocent, but virgins can be tricky. They get easily attached. However, I can't help myself. She's too damn perfect.

"Where the hell is she?" Adrianna grumbles to herself before finally heading back into the bar.

Azira sags against the wall with relief, and then her eyes widen again. "I can't believe we almost got caught."

I shrug. "Part of the thrill." I nod toward the bar. "We better return before they send out a search party."

The flash of disappointment in her eyes is easy to detect. "I guess." She catches her bottom lip between her teeth. "My panties are torn, though."

I tighten my grasp on her hips. "And no one will know except for me. Will you be dripping on your seat, making a mess while you think about my tongue?" I move my lips closer to hers, knowing she wants me to kiss her but still teasing and tormenting.

"Yes, sir," she moans, the desire in her voice downright sinful.

"Good." I grab her wrist and pull her down the alleyway until we get to the end. "Now you go on in first. I'll wait a while." I arch a brow. "We don't want anyone getting suspicious, do we?"

Her nostrils flare, but she shakes her head. "No, sir."

I spank her ass. "Hurry now."

She groans and then walks away from me, her hips swaying from side to side in the most tantalizing way. My cock throbs incessantly in the tight confines of my briefs as I watch her, knowing that the rest of the night is going to be damn right torture, sitting next to her and unable to touch her, taste her, consume her in every physical way possible.

Azira Sidorov has awoken the beast inside of me and there's no way in hell he's letting her go. She does not know what she's gotten herself into. I walk casually toward the front of the bar and stare in through the window, watching as she makes her way back to the table.

Adrianna turns to her the moment she sits down, brow furrowed. No doubt questioning where she had disappeared off to. It may be a little obvious that we were together, considering we were the only two people missing from the table.

I walk through the entrance and head to the bar first, knowing I need a stiff drink to stop myself from dragging Azira out of this bar and taking her home with me. A blonde woman behind the bar notices me approach and smiles widely, batting her eyelashes at me in an attempt to flirt. "Hey, handsome. What can I get you?"

It takes all my self-control not to roll my eyes. "A double scotch on the rocks."

She nods. "Coming right up."

The woman is attractive and if it weren't for my obsession with Azira right now, I'd probably flirt with her harmlessly, with no intention of following through. After all, men like me can't exactly pick women up at normal bars, at least, not usually anyway. Most of the women in this bar would go running for the hills if they knew the true depravity of my tastes.

A firm hand lands on my shoulder and squeezes. "What are you up to, Bly?"

Oak's voice holds a hint of suspicion as I glance toward him and shrug his hand from my shoulder.

"Getting a drink. What does it look like?"

His eyes narrow. "Don't think I didn't notice you follow Azira out of the bar."

My friend has always been very perceptive. I shrug. "I went out for some air. Is that a crime?"

His jaw clenches. "Don't take me for a fool, Bly. I see the way you look at that girl."

I face him. "What are you suggesting?"

"I'm suggesting that you're walking a dangerous line." He runs a hand across the back of his neck. "There's a difference between Archer sleeping around with students and you."

I narrow my eyes. "And what difference is that, exactly?" I know what he's saying. He knows my tastes in sex aren't vanilla. In fact, they're pitch fucking black and sadistic and that's why he's worried, but I don't like being called out by him.

"You know the difference. Do I need to remind you how we met?"

It feels so long ago that it's easy to forget that Oak has seen the extent of destruction that my tastes can cause. Especially when I'm out of control. When we met, it was at a strip club just south of the Canadian border. I'd been getting pretty hot and heavy with a few strippers, who I'd told about my tastes. They were up for anything as long as the price was right, but unfortunately there's nothing safe about breath play and it went too far with one girl, until she didn't wake up again. The other two girls freaked out and said they'd call the cops, and I saw red. I still have flashbacks of their blood painting the walls in the rundown motel room.

Oak helped me cover up my sadistic crimes, as if he could see something good in me. God knows why. And that's when he offered me a job at the academy that night, telling me it was a place for troubled people like me to find somewhere to belong.