Page 40 of Going Deep (Odyssey #3)

“Tell me, Ms . Dowling ,” he continued, lowering his head so he spoke directly into her ear. Her shiver made him grin. “ Tell me what you wanted me to do with these pretty, pretty tits.”

“Nothing,” she gasped. “ You’re my student. I can’t…”

He shook his head in mock disappointment. “ I warned you not to lie, but maybe you need a more tangible reminder.” He raised his hand and slapped her right breast.

Ginger’s whole body jerked in shock as his hand made contact with her breast. The sharp sting stole her breath even as it made her pussy clench.

He laughed, dark and dangerous. “ I think you liked that.” He did it again, striking the opposite side, and her hips jerked forward.

“Fuck,” he muttered, and she blinked the stars from her eyes to see him staring at her breast. She looked down.

Against the pale skin of her breast, the imprint stood out like paint. Glowing red, three stripes on the inner curve of her breast, three on the outer, and she knew they’d exactly match the shape of his fingers.

His eyes blazing with green fire, he traced the edges of the marks with one fingertip. “ Beautiful ,” he murmured, and she flushed with pleasure.

“Since you liked that so much,” he drawled, and she shivered at the silky tone. She held her breath for a moment of humming anticipation, then his hand was falling again.

Slap! Slap ! Slap ! His hand fell over and over, first on the inside of her breast, then the outside, then the inside again. Then he shifted his body and switched his attention to her left breast.

The sharp slaps echoed throughout the room, punctuated by her whimpering moans.

Her hips were jerking uncontrollably every time his hand met her flesh, and her breasts felt almost unbearably swollen.

She glanced down, wanting to see, and wasn’t disappointed.

Her breasts were so red they nearly glowed, the nipples tight from the heat and the pain, and the sight was so incendiary she moaned out loud.

“Oh, Ms . Dowling ,” he said on a low laugh. “ You are wasted in the classroom.”

Ginger swallowed hard and tried to glare at him. It was hard, because all she wanted to do was lie down on the desk and beg him to fuck her, but she struggled to remember her agenda. “ Mr . O’Reilly , you need to leave before you get into more trouble than you’re already in.”

His eyes gleamed as he laughed. “ Baby , I’m not the one in trouble, here.”

He leaned back slightly to rake his eyes down her body. “ Pretty tits, pretty legs. I bet the ass under this drab little skirt is just as pretty.”

Drab? She didn’t have to fake the scowl. “ Listen , you?—”

“Don’t want to listen,” he interrupted, and before she could protest, he’d spun her around to face the desk. “ Want to see that ass.”

“Mr. O’Reilly , you are dangerously close to being expelled,” she snapped, then let out a startled cry as his hand cracked against her ass.

“You’re not in charge here anymore, Ms . Dowling .” The hand gripping her wrists at the small of her back nudged her forward until her hips met the edge of the desk, then her wrists were free and he was pressing her down until her bare breasts pressed into the smooth surface.

Her breasts were swollen, the skin hot from the repeated smacks of his fingers, and she flinched as he pressed her into the cool wood.

His hand stayed firm between her shoulder blades, keeping her pressed down when reflex would’ve had her recoiling at the contact.

After a moment, the initial discomfort faded into a delicious ache that seemed to go straight to her pussy.

She was so focused on the throb in her breasts that she hadn’t felt him move, so she jolted when he spoke directly into her ear.

“ Reach out and grab the edge of the desk, Ms . Dowling ,” he growled, and mindlessly she obeyed.

The desk was wide enough that she had to fully extend her arms to wrap her fingers around the edge, leaving her fully stretched across the top.

“Very good, Ms . Dowling ,” he whispered in her ear, and rewarded her compliance with a little nip of her ear. A hard shudder moved through her, and he straightened with a laugh.

“You’ve wanted this, haven’t you, Ms . Dowling ?”

“No,” she gasped, and grunted when his hand connected with her ass again.

She barely bit back the moan as his hand rubbed circles over her stinging butt, simultaneously spreading and soothing the ache, then his hand froze.

“Well, well, well,” he purred, and the dark lust in his tone turned her knees to jelly. “ What’s this?”

She felt him skim a finger low across her ass where her thighs met her cheeks. Where she knew her eager wetness—and maybe a little bit of lube from the surprise she had planned for him—had leached into the thin, unlined cotton of the skirt.

“There’s a wet spot on your ass, Ms . Dowling ,” he told her with undisguised glee. “ How’d that happen?”

She said nothing, straining to keep in character when all she wanted to do was hike up the skirt and beg him to fuck her.

“Did you sit in a puddle? Maybe you spilled one of those mocha lattes you like in your chair.” She felt him shift slightly, saw him lean over to peer at her desk chair. “ No puddle here. That must mean it’s coming from you.”

One calloused palm slid up the back of her leg, his fingers curling around to drag up her inner thigh. He didn’t get far before his fingers encountered the evidence of her arousal.

“Oh, Ms . Dowling .” He laughed, dark and low as his fingertips slicked through the moisture coating her inner thighs.

“ You’re wet. You were wet the whole time you were sitting in your prim little blouse and your prim little skirt, correcting papers and lecturing me.

” His fingers slipped higher up her thighs, coming to a stop when his hand hit the slick, bare flesh of her pussy.

“And no panties.” He tsked disapprovingly. “ What a slut you are, Ms . Dowling .”

She whimpered, her hips jerking into his hand as the words washed over her. She couldn’t believe how hot it made her for him to call her that in his dark, whiskey voice. She could actually feel herself grow wetter at his words.

And so could he.

“Jesus,” he growled. “ That pussy is so wet, Ms . Dowling . So wet and hot. Your lips are saying no, but your body is begging for me.”

He slid his fingers over her pussy once, twice, then disappeared, and she couldn’t help the slow undulation of her hips as she tried to follow his hand.

His low rumble of laughter sent a shudder rolling through her. “ You want more, dirty girl?”

Oh, God .

His hand smacked down on her ass, catching her by surprise. The instinctive squeak that escaped slid into a needy whimper when his hand fell again.

“Tell me,” he demanded.

Yes, yes, fuck yes. “ No .”

“Really?” His tone was exasperated. “ Still trying to pretend you’re not dying for this?”

She shook her head frantically, unable to speak. If she opened her mouth she’d scream for him to fuck her, and she didn’t want to end the game so soon.

“You lie to yourself all you want, baby,” he growled, his hands grasping the hem of the skirt and dragging it up over her ass. “ Because this pussy is telling me the truth.”

A wave of heat washed over her as her bare ass was exposed to his stroking hands, and she knew the instant he saw what she’d done.

“Fuck. ”

Michael stared at the base of the plug splitting Ginger’s ass cheeks and battled for control.

He recognized the large metal piece he’d bought to prepare her asshole for his cock.

He hadn’t even used it on her yet, contenting himself with taking baby steps, knowing the end prize would be well worth the wait.

But apparently, she’d decided to stop waiting.

He was going to have to have a talk with her about taking the initiative away from her Dom , but much, much later. Right now, he was going to take full advantage of the opportunity she was giving him.

“Ms. Dowling ,” he growled, and watched a shiver race over her skin. “ You are a dirty, filthy girl.”

“I’m not,” she moaned, the heat and need in her voice belying her words.

“Oh yes, you are,” he returned. He grasped the base of the plug and gave it a gentle tug. He could actually see her pussy spasm as her asshole clenched down. “ Only a dirty, filthy girl would put a plug in her own ass. And only a dirty, filthy slut would let me fuck her ass.”

She shivered when he draped himself over her back, pressing her into the desk and grinding his erection into her soft cheeks. “ And I am going to fuck your ass, baby. Right now.”

“No,” she moaned, shoving her ass back against him, and he laughed.

“Yeah. Your mouth says no, but your ass says yes.”

He pushed back and grabbed the plug again, watching her body language closely as he pulled on it. Her pussy dripped more cream, her asshole fluttered around the narrow neck of the plug. She let out a whimpering cry and wiggled her hips, and he knew she was trying to get some friction on her clit.

He noted the shine of lube around the plug and approved.

She’d used a generous amount, but he was going to need more in order to make this good for both of them.

He started to order her to stay put while he went to the bedroom to fetch some, then paused.

She’d planned this to happen, and he’d bet that she’d planned thoroughly.

“You lubed up your asshole and shoved this plug in before I got here, didn’t you?” he whispered. He twisted the base of the plug, rotating the smooth metal in her anal cavity. It moved easily, aided by the lube, making her cry out.

“Yes,” she gasped.

“Where’d you put the lube, Ms . Dowling ?”

“What?” She twisted her head to peer at him over her shoulder.

“The lube.” He gave the plug another twist and hardened his voice. “ Where is it? You don’t tell me where it is, I’ll just take you without it.”