I crook a finger at her, and she crosses the room to me, her eyes on mine. My blood pumps harder as she draws near, the faint smell of her arousal and need permeating the air between us.
When she reaches me, I place the tip of my finger under her chin. “I want you to get ready for bed, now. I’m going home. I’ll call you in a little bit.”
She nods, and her eyes silently plead for something, but she won’t say it out loud.
Run, my brain warns. Go.
I silence the protests. She’s done what she was told. She took the hard spanking and asked for forgiveness.
“Now, you get a kiss.”
Her eyes register surprise when I cup her jaw, lower my mouth, then brush my lips against hers. She sighs into me, then inhales deeply, like she’s drowning and my kiss gives her life. Placing her hand on my chest, she draws closer. I reach my hand to her lower back. The fabric clings to her damp skin.
She moans into my mouth as I kiss her. I cup her ass, give her a squeeze, and she gasps louder. I bite her lip, relishing the way her breath hitches with the sudden pain. I deepen the kiss. Her breaths become mine.
I pull away when I feel myself losing control. If I give into more of what I want, there’s no going back.
“I’m going home,” I whisper. Her shoulders slump. “When I get there, I’ll call to see if you’re ready for bed. Got it?”
She nods. “Yes, sir.”
I leave with great reluctance. I want more than a goodnight kiss, but that isn’t what’s troubling me. I don’t like walking away, because it makes me feel like I’m somehow neglecting a duty. She needs protection, and every step I take away from her is one more second it takes to come back.
What if she’s bugged? What if the junkie asshole isn’t so easily forgotten? What if someone else wants her? I don’t want walls and space between us. I want her in my bed, between my sheets, and in my arms.
I watch the feed on my phone to appease me all the way back to my apartment. Every step feels more wrong than the last.
Chapter 7
Mia
I wake up to a changed world. I wake up a changed person.
Was that all real? My professor, my bodyguard, my guardian, telling me that I have to call him sir and be his good little girl? It feels like a dream, until I move and the throbbing sensation in my ass tells me that it actually happened.
What a mindfuck. Now I have two impulses warring inside me. I want to be independent. It’s time that I faced the world on my own terms. But I also want to crawl into his arms and be held the way he held me after he spanked me, to feel safe and secure.
The fresh light of the new day makes everything feel new. Past sins are erased by morning light. But I figure I’ll just commit a whole lot more today. There's an ache when I move, and when I get into the shower, the hot water makes my skin sting.
He spanked me.
He made me call him sir.
And he kissed me.
That kiss made it all worthwhile. I find myself daydreaming about it while the water beats down on my breasts and my stomach before draining between my thighs, a warm flow over the tender part of me which craved his touch, and yet did not receive it. I give it to myself, let my fingers wander where good girls’ fingers never go. What would my professor think of this, I wonder, conjuring the mental image of him shirtless. I’ve never seen him that way, but I saw the wet outlines of his chest when I threw water on him and that’s all the material my fevered imagination needs as I rub myself, leaning against the shower wall, my legs spread wantonly. He wants me to be a good girl, but he knows where I come from. I was born to be a bad girl. A very, very bad girl.
Can he see me now? I know he's watching my apartment. Is there a camera in the bathroom too? Does he watch me when I strip naked? Can he see the way I’m touching myself, rubbing and pinching the bud of my clit, panting and moaning, letting a finger drift toward the entrance of my body, where I never penetrate, but like to play. Does he know how badly his wet little girl wants his cock?
Fuck. Fuck. Why is that thought so hot?
I switch the shower head to the pulse setting and I let the water caress me until the swirling pleasure between my thighs takes over completely and I am left shaking in the shower, finding the desperate release I wanted to have with him.
Freshly relieved of all that sexual tension, I get out of the shower and dress. Usually I wear what’s cute. Today, I’m picking out clothes that don’t hug my ass. The best I can do is a skirt that kind of flares out at my hips and mostly avoids the tender region. Sitting down on the wooden bench seats isn't going to be fun. I consider skipping class, but that would only make things worse.
I check my schedule, and then my watch.
“Fuck!” I’m late for my first class of the day.
I can't be late. I don't want to give him any reason to punish me again. I don't think I can stand being spanked again. It was so embarrassing. It made me feel as though I was completely out of control.
I head to class in a mad rush. There's no time for breakfast. I feel like I'm forgetting something, but there’s no time to try to remember. Before I know it, I'm sitting uncomfortably and conjugating French verbs with the rest of my class.
By the time I get out, my stomach is growling. I head to the cafeteria to get something to eat, but before I can get anywhere near the poor offerings there, I’m accosted by the sight of the man who made me call him sir coming down the hall toward me.
God, he's fucking handsome. He moves like a prowling animal, all muscle and intensity. How does everybody not see exactly what he is? To my gaze, it’s written all over him. There’s no way he would ever have been able to hide from me.
“Hello, Mia,” he says, stopping in front of me.
“Oh, hi,” I smile. “How are you, professor?”
“Disappointed, Mia."
My heart sinks, and I don't know why. What have I done wrong? I've only been in his presence for twenty seconds. Is he mad that I came in the shower?
“Is it your birthday and all your friends forgot?” I try to lighten the mood with a joke. It doesn’t work. He crosses his arms on his chest and gives me one curt shake of his head. Glancing around, I reassure myself that I am surrounded by people coming and going from classes. College is a safe space. Here, he has to be my professor, and I can't be anything more than his student.
Enzo reaches over me casually, puts the flat of his big palm next to my head, boxing me in. This is already too intimate. People are looking. Why doesn’t he seem to care?
"Have you forgotten something, Mia?” His voice is low and soft, but full of warning.
“Uhm, I don’t think so?”
"What did I tell you to do last night?"
Fuck. I don't know. Last night is a blur of touching and being touched. He spanked me, I know that much. There were some words, but I’d been at a bar all night and I don’t really remember them.
“Uhmmmm….”
"I told you to report to me in the morning," he says. "Among other things.”
“Oh, well, I had class, so..."
“I'll see you at your apartment at lunch time," he says. “Be there, twelve o’clock. Every minute you make me wait is another minute you’ll spend over my knee." He leans in and purrs down at me. “And a minute is a very long time, when you’re being spanked, cara mia.”