Page 96 of Give In

I could almost see his control snapping and couldn’t help but taunt. “I’m a very good listener.”

Damien tore at his belt and pants, not seeming to notice or care when he ripped the zipper in his haste. He freed himself, and I waited. Ready to taste him. Ready to fuck him.

Just ready.

But he did neither.

He fisted himself, and a cocky smirk pulled at his lips. “You’re a horrible fucking listener, my depraved angel, but you’ll get there. If you want to come, you’ll get there.”

A pit formed in my stomach as I realized I’d pushed him too far, but not in the direction I needed. I hadn’t made his control break, I’d strengthened it.

“Go ahead and show me,” he grunted hoarsely as he roughly stroked himself. “Show me how you’d make yourself come if you could.”

Even if I wanted to stop out of spite, I couldn’t have. Seeing Damien jack-off in the shower—all glistening muscle and erotic taboo—was nothing compared to the up-close view. I watched each twitch. Each throb. Each pace change and stroke variation.

I wanted to memorize them all, storing them away for long nights and hot showers.

My own arousal seemed to have reached levels beyond anything imaginable. I rubbed. I tweaked. I stroked my clit until I was worried it would burst into flames from the friction.

But nothing worked. I couldn’t come.

My ego may have been holding me back until that point, but it wasn’t going to get me off.

Damien was.

Which meant my ego and I lost.

“Please,” I begged.

There was just a twinge of a smirk, but his focus remained between my legs where I worked at myself despite the lack of result. “No.”

“Dam—” I started before catching myself. “Professor Caine, please. I’ll do anything.”

His body convulsed at my plea. “No.”

I pulled my hand from my bra and reached for him, but he caught my wrist at the last second. He held it aloft between us, not letting me touch him or myself.

My hips undiluted wildly, using my fingers, palm, and the desk to try to come. “I give, I fucking give. I’ll use my panties to make a white flag of surrender and parade through the hallway if you want.”

His grip tightened before releasing to fist my hair. “No one sees your panties but me, Eden.” His words were accented by another tug of my hair and an even rougher tug of his cock as he bit out, “Only me.”

“Please,” I begged again, tilting my head away from his grasp so I’d get more pull. I didn’t think I’d like it, and I was right.

Ilovedit.

“Say it.”

“Only you, Professor Caine,” I vowed mindlessly, a whisper accompanied by a hurricane of emotion. “Only ever you.”

Dropping his head back, he groaned so deeply, I worried he’d shake the whole building. When he opened his eyes, I lost my rhythm and my breath. I’d thought his eyes were a storm before, but they were nothing compared to then. So much swirled in their inky depths, I couldn’t have deciphered it all if I had a lifetime.

Ignoring the metaphorical knot that was tangling around me—around something even more vulnerable than the darkness in my head—I whimpered, “Please, make me come, Professor Caine.”

He stopped stroking and released my hair. I thought he was going to move away again, but instead, he shoved his hand down my pants, covering my own. I could hear the delicate threading on my panties tear, but I didn’t care. The angle was awkward in the tight confines of our embrace, but neither of us seemed willing to move away from the other.

His middle finger covered my own, curling it so the tips of both teased my entrance. He ground his palm into mine and put pressure on my clit.

Holy shit, I’m finally gonna come.