Chapter 18 18
POV Katherine
His lips stayed pressed to mine, hard, demanding, as if he wanted to erase from my head any idea of stopping.
My ass sank into the edge of the desk, the papers crumpling under my weight, but I didn't notice. His hands spread my legs wider, pulling on my knees with a force that left no room for doubt. I felt the cool air of the room brush my bare and wet skin, and then his fingers, thick and warm, parting my thighs until I was completely open for him. There was nothing between us now, just my traitorous wetness and his fixed gaze, as if he were memorizing every inch.
God, I could melt under that gaze; I felt like my body was opening up to be fully observed by him.
What was this boy doing to me?
Why right now, when I had no strength to show resistance or fight against my desire?
He pulled his mouth away for a second, just enough to breathe, and I looked down. There he was, on his knees between my legs, with his olive eyes fixed on me, on what I'd just revealed. My pubic hair, dark and curly, framed my swollen lips, already glistening from how wet I was.
I was completely wet, a desire that corroded me and prevented my head from thinking clearly or sensibly.
I hadn't shaved in months, maybe years, and suddenly I felt exposed in a way I hadn't expected.
Desired, even like that.
As if he could see not just my body, but everything I'd ignored about myself. I tried to close my legs by instinct, but his hands wouldn't let me; they forced me to keep them like that, like a gentle reproach for my action.
His hands prevented me from closing, from hiding what was already in plain sight for him. Instead, one of them, his right hand, slid up my inner thigh, slow, until his fingers brushed the edge of my pubic hair.
"Fuck, Mrs. Ellis," he murmured, his voice hoarse, as if it was hard for him to speak. "Look at this. So soft, so real. It's the third time I've seen it and… That night I saw you, but I couldn't touch you here like I wanted. You missed this. I missed tasting you for real. I wanted it so much that it took everything in me to leave that night… even if my body refused. You were drunk, and I didn't want to do anything; I needed you to be aware of this, to savor the desire, the pleasure, while I savored you."
His words hit me straight in the belly, a heat that rose to my chest and left me breathless. Taste me? God, no one had said something like that to me in... how long? Andrew never, not in the last few years. And now this boy, my student, on his knees in front of me, running his fingers through my pubic hair as if it were something precious. He didn't pinch it or push it away in disgust, as I'd feared. He caressed it, tangling his fingers in the curls, tugging gently so I'd feel the pull on the sensitive skin. Every movement was deliberate, as if he wanted me to notice how my body responded: a spasm in my thighs, a new drip between my lips.
"Elliot..." I whispered, but it wasn't a protest. It was his name, like a plea I didn't want to admit. "Why?"
He smiled, that half-smile that disarmed me right at this moment, and leaned in closer. His hot breath brushed my clit first, making my hips arch on their own. He didn't touch me with his mouth yet. He kept playing with his fingers, parting the tufts of hair to expose me more, brushing the wet skin underneath. I felt a finger trace the outline of my outer lips, slow, like drawing a map. Up, down, pausing at the entrance where I was already dripping. He didn't enter; he just wet the tip and slid it up, painting my clit with my own wetness. I gasped, loud, and my hands gripped the edge of the desk so I wouldn't push his head against me.
"Tell me if you want me to stop," he said, looking up at me from below, his lips a breath away from my skin. "But I won't unless you say it clearly. I want to taste you. I want you to feel what you missed that night."
"Please… You're the one who has to stop this, Elliot."
"No… I'm the one who wants it most."
"But I…"
"You're beautiful—what's wrong with appreciating you like that? What's wrong with feeling?"
"I'm… I'm married, Elliot."
"Then tell me you're happy, that you don't need this; tell me those tremors are from fear and not desire. Mrs. Ellis, tell me you don't want me, but not just with words—your body has to stop dripping, trembling, and screaming for me too."
"N-No… I can't say I don't want you; you see it, I'm completely naked in front of you, I'm… making a mistake, that's what I want you to see, that this is a mistake."
"Then allow yourself to make mistakes. And if you have nothing more to say, shut up and enjoy, Mrs. Ellis, because I won't stop until my name explodes against these walls, screamed from your lips."