Chapter 17 17
POV Katherine
"Is something wrong, teacher?"
Teacher… Now he was calling me that. How much had our friendly relationship changed after that night?
Was he angry? Was he keeping his distance because he regretted what happened too?
It was better to settle it as soon as possible.
The words I'd repeated in my head came out a bit jumbled.
"I'll be direct, because I don't want this to be misinterpreted or for my image to be affected. What happened that night... I was drunk. I barely remember what happened, but I know we crossed a line. It can't happen again."
God. I said it.
"What exactly are you referring to?"
"What do you mean, what am I referring to? You know."
"No, I don't. If you can be more specific, it might help me understand what you're talking about."
Shit.
I stood up, unable to help it.
I turned my back to him and approached the window.
"T... the thing at the bar, I suppose."
"Dancing?"
"NO!" It wasn't just the dance! I heard him stand up, but I didn't dare look back. "Elliot, we ran into each other there, I was already very drunk, I let myself get carried away and… then…" God, then. My throat closed up thinking about what happened after. I felt him behind me, startling me as I felt his hands on my hips. "What the hell are you doing, Elliot?"
"Trying to remember what happened that night," he whispered against my neck. "We danced, you invited me, we were having a good time, and suddenly you asked me to take you home. What's wrong with that?"
"It wasn't just… the dance, you touched—" He cut off my words when I felt his hands on my ass. Again!
"Like this?" he asked, squeezing my buttocks between his hands, leaving one on my belly and sliding it down to my thigh. "Did I do this too?" he asked; my head was spinning, spinning so much. "Mrs. Ellis, did I do that too?" He kissed my neck and I felt his tongue slide up behind my ear; I covered my mouth with a hand and closed my eyes.
I had to pull away, I had to distance myself, stay firm and tell him this wasn't right.
But my body wouldn't move; his hands had me paralyzed, his touch left me breathless.
"Elliot… don't do it."
"I'm just remembering, since you couldn't say it out loud. Do you remember what else I did, or do I have to show you?" he asked. My words didn't come out, and since I didn't speak, he began to take off my clothes.
"Wait, wait!" I shouted. His hands held me, immobilizing my body, preventing my movements.
"Shh. Don't move; I just want to know what can't happen again, and the only way is to do it, so you can tell me not to do it, like that night when you didn't say no… I suppose I have to do it again."
"That doesn't make sense, Elliot!"
"But it does to me. Stay still, please, Mrs. Ellis."
The slowness with which he removed my blouse was the most desperate situation of my entire life; the way my bra fell to the floor almost drove me mad, but what was truly insane were his hands on my breasts.
I closed my eyes and let my head fall back onto his chest; his hands felt like hot water and they were huge, enveloping everything completely; his fingers moved to my nipples and I bit my tongue with all my strength to make no sound.
How did we get to this? How did I let him do it? Why wasn't I stopping him? Maybe because I'd spent years without connecting with my body, without it feeling good to have hands touch me, without feeling desire, the urge to be fucked; maybe… because I felt so desired, even if it wasn't right, or perhaps because I wasn't thinking clearly and this was one of my crises.
When he twisted them, I couldn't hold back the sound that escaped my mouth anymore. I gasped and my hips moved against him.
"Elliot, that's enough," I whispered, but I didn't want that; I wanted him to do more, to continue.
"Something's missing, Mrs. Ellis," he said. When he released my breasts, I almost let out a complaint; he positioned himself in front of me, but I couldn't look at him; I looked away, covered my breasts; he knelt in front of me and started lowering the skirt; I held my panties when he tried to take them off too, but one look was enough to understand that my hands weren't going to stop him.
Though it was hard not to stop his fingers pulling the fabric down, leaving my hairy vagina in front of him.
Then he stood up.
"This is what I did. Which part didn't you like, Mrs. Ellis? Tell me, so I can do it better, repeat it again and again, until it comes out of your lips that you like how my hands undress you, that it feels good with my touch, that it wasn't a mistake… and that you want to repeat it, but one thing is missing"—he took my face with one hand, his fingers tracing my lips and stopping in the center of them; my lips parted and Elliot smiled, slipping his thumb into my mouth, wetting his finger and then moistening my lips; he leaned in very slowly and halfway smiled as if he were about to say something, until his lips reached the same place as mine; it was just a brush, then he parted his lips. I admit, I thought he was going to do something more, but then his hand went behind my head, entered my hair and held me firmly, pushing my face against his; the clash of our lips was savage, his other hand on my ass, his tongue in my mouth and me gasping like a bitch in heat, naked, throbbing and wanting him to fuck me as soon as possible.
He made me back up until my ass was pressed against the desk and with a quick movement he sat me on it, my legs spread and him in between; he never parted my lips from his and I was starting to run out of air, but I didn't care, I didn't care about anything.