He’s highlighted by shade-drawn windows, but it may as well only be the two of us in here.
He eyefucks me. They say everything his body wants to do as he rubs my clit into submission. Teasing it. Giving her everything she’s been without lately. His nimble fingers work as he watches my every move. He sees every tightening of my shoulders, every noise of pleasure I want to make.
My body doesn’t care that we’re in a classroom. It doesn’t care that there are witnesses right next to us who only have to turn their heads to see what’s happening. She’s greedy, and she wants him.
“You’re beautiful,” he whispers.
He tightens the circle around my clit, flicking the nub faster and faster. I plunge into the moment where there’s no turning back. Whatever reckless decisions led to this, I’m about to orgasm in the middle of our mythology class.
The moment hits, and my eyes close. I throw my head back, practically biting the inside of my cheek raw, so I don’t cry out. I’m suspended for a moment. The pleasure licking at me again and again in ruthless waves. Lucas touches my hand, and I open my eyes to find him staring, face softening as he watches me come down from the restrained high he forced me into.
My heart beats a dangerous rhythm as we stare at each other. Our eyes connect in disbelief and something much more carnal. If he’s like me, he’s wondering how we got this far. Each one of us pushing the other until I couldn’t have made him stop even if I’d wanted to. I chased that orgasm down. I wanted it. In its aftermath is a lucid sort of confusion.
I’m supposed to hate him.
Lucas swallows. “Mine,” he growls, squeezing my forearm. I tilt my head at him, but he just moves back into our private bubble. “Next time that happens, I’m balls deep inside you, Wild Girl.”
He pulls his hand out but doesn’t move away. He stays where he is, his shoulder brushing mine. I peek over at his lap, and he’s hard again. He doesn’t touch it. He doesn’t acknowledge it. He doesn’t throw me over his shoulder and run for the nearest bathroom. It takes the rest of class and what looks like some supreme willpower, but eventually, Lucas is fit to see other people without them knowing how turned on he is when class ends.
The overhead lights flicker on like harsh spotlights, yet the spell hasn’t broken. It’s nowhere near disintegrating. We stay in our seats, the class emptying out. The teacher dawdles, picking up her things and waiting. When Lucas just gives her a blank stare, she shakes her head and exits the room.
In a nanosecond, he’s leaning over me, kneeling on his chair with one hand on my desk and the other on the back of my seat. He lowers himself, and I watch as he descends, half fear and half lurid curiosity eating at me. I don’t move. I can’t move. He hovers his lips over mine. “You surprised me. No one surprises me.” And then he kisses me. His hungry lips part my own. He thrusts his tongue inside, taking over. He moves his hand to the back of my head where he holds me to him, fingers keeping me firmly in place as he obliterates my precious mind.
I may never be able to fantasize again.
I kiss him back with the same fervor. It’s raw and demanding, yet still practiced perfection. He kisses me and kisses me. Minutes pass. Eons. His lips collide with mine over and over until his phone vibrates in his pocket. He groans into my mouth, pulling away like it pains him.
I stare at him in shock, waiting for him to say something nasty. To tell me that this is all a joke. I half-expect the door to open and for Wyatt and Stone to pop through it, Stone with his haughty air and Wyatt with his laughter, telling me that they played me. They played me so good.
Instead, Lucas stays in his present position, his hand dropping down my neck to land on the back of my chair again. He sits back down, keeping his eyes on me until he takes his phone out and presses it to his ear. “Yeah.” He lets out a breath as someone on the other side answers. “We’re coming.” He hangs up then, pulling his desk away from mine, so I can get up. The only thing is,