Page 57 of Tempt Me

But I couldn’t think about that right now. I settled into the spot where the car had quieted. I wasn’t stupid. He would come back if I didn’t move my ass. I was near the top of the garage, just a single level underneath where the sun was peeking through.

I stared ahead to the black asphalt and watched in horror as a big, black shadow engulfed the little streams of light from the top balcony.

My breath caught in my throat, and my ability to scream froze.

Fuck, where did he go—a tattooed hand wrapped around my neck, and I could hear ragged pants near my ear. The professor’s body pressed into mine, pushing me into the hood of the car. He was coated in sweat, his clothes sticking to my exposed skin in my sundress.

His voice was low, the threat laced with the thrill of winning. He tilted my head sideways, lifting me up to stand.

“Like what you see, Little Voyeur?” he said, leaning in closer to my ear.

I swallowed and struggled, his hand acting like a tight dog collar.

I couldn’t deny my being here or the fact that he caught me. The proof was on my fucking camera.

He dragged his hand away from my throat, sliding it down my chest, slowly pushing over my hardened nipples and the softness of my stomach.

I let out a shaking breath, watching his movements as he got to my hips. He gripped my right side tightly and continued his downward exploration with the other. I tried not to scream. My dress was covered in little specks of blood.

Was it his? Or someone else’s?

His hand stopped where my dress ended. I clenched my thighs together, and he grunted, pushing them apart with his big black boot.

I stayed where he had me, his hand anchoring me between the car and his body with one tight grab of my pussy. His hand heating me as sure as a brand.

Fuck, my knees began to shake, and my heart pumped harder.

My body was betraying me, coating his hand with my wetness, soaking through my dress and my panties. A whimper escaped from my throat, as I watched him blur and suddenly he was behind me. He was pushing his rough palm against my clit, putting pressure right where I needed it.

“Did you really think you could escape me?” He pushed harder, wrenching a gasp from me.

He started moving his hand back and forth, his thick fingers dipping into my slit, the clothing partially blocking him, bunching into the spot and creating additional friction.

“Stop…” I said, but even it sounded like a question to my ears.

To my surprise, he did.

He moved his hand down further and ripped my camera off me with a snap of the camera strap.

This time, I did scream.

He spun me around and pressed me against the car, turning on the device and flipping through the damning evidence while keeping me pinned with his knee.

“Naughty girl, Little Voyeur.” He tsked, moving his knee and bringing that heat back to my lower belly.

“Fuck!” I panted, involuntarily grinding against his leg, trying to find that pressure. “I-I’m sorry.”

He chuckled, and the vibration echoed through my soul. He pulled away from me, leaving me leaning awkwardly against the car’s cold metal door. He placed my camera on the hood of the car and angled it toward the fence that blocked the drop of the lower level below. Confusion kept me trying to catch my breath.

When my brain caught up, I went to pull away, but he was grabbing my arms and wrapping my camera strap around my wrists like a rope, tying the end with his teeth. I opened and closed my mouth, trying to form words.

“Shut that pretty mouth unless you want me to gag you, too,” he warned with a devilish smile, challenging me to do so.

I didn’t want to know what he intended to use as the gag. I snapped my jaw shut so hard I felt my teeth clack together.

“Good girl. I guess you can follow directions after all, with the right….” He trailed off, grabbing my bound arms and pulling me forward toward the fence.

“Pressure,” He continued, growling low in his throat and throwing me into the chained links.