"Did I ever tell you," he says, "about the ancient Egyptian woman who wanted a certain man so badly that she paid a priest to cast a sexual binding spell on him? She wanted him to be so overcome with desire for her that he couldn't stand it. Only one thing could cure his affliction."
He slides his fingers further inside my trousers, and further still until his whole hand rests over my knickers, the heel on my mound.
"To stay sane," he murmurs into my ear, "the man had to copulate with the woman every night. You've cast a spell like that on me, haven't you? Nothing will save my sanity except penetrating the soft, slick flesh inside your body."
His fingers tease me right where my taut nub nestles within the slick folds of my sex.
The breath catches in my throat. My nipples shoot hard.
"Yes," he purrs, our faces millimeters apart, his gaze nailed to mine. "You're wet already, aren't you? Wet and aching, desperate for me to make you come. And it's your fault, because you made me want you this much."
He shifts his hand, sliding it inside my knickers, pushing two fingers between my folds. His thumb finds my clitoris, rubbing gently, while his fingers glide up and down, up and down.
I choke back a whimper, already teetering on the edge. I can't stop myself from moving my hips, thrusting into his touch, starved for more, more, more.
Alex drags me into the dark alcove.
His rigid cock tents his kilt, and intense need tightens his features. He shoves me against the wall, pinning me there with his body, his erection trapped against my belly. "I need to fuck you, Catriona. Can't wait any longer."
"Aye." I can't squeeze out any other words. I want him even more than I had years ago, when I thought I could never want any other man as intensely as I craved him. Today, I crave him more. So much I can't breathe or speak or move a muscle.
Here? In the lecture hall? With the doors open?
Alex yanks my trousers and underwear down to my ankles. From his shirt pocket, he produces a condom packet, tears it open with his teeth, and covers himself.
I fight for every heaving breath, my body alive and sizzling with electric tingles that ripple through me in waves and pulse in my sex. Alex. Inside me. After so long apart. I need his cock buried deep in my body, driving me toward a climax I know will devastate me with its power.
He kicks my feet apart, grasps my hips, and plunges inside me.
My mouth falls open, but my voice has abandoned me, leaving me so speechless that I can't even cry out.
"Try to be quiet," he rasps in my ear while he consumes me with slow, decadent thrusts. "I know you can do it. Remember that day in the library?"
Bod an Donais, I remember—and the memory makes me more aroused, more desperate to hit my release and shatter from the bliss only this man knows how to give me. Once, years ago, we found a dark corner deep in the stacks of the library at the university where he worked and where I was a student. He shagged me in that corner, shagged me like I'd never known anyone could. The need to stay quiet made the whole encounter more erotic, more intense, more…everything.
"Hurry," I whisper to him. "Cannae hold out much longer. Alex. Oh…"
"Catriona…"
My name falling from his lips, it pushes me over the edge. I come like a tidal wave breaking on sheer, vertical cliffs, the spray shooting up and over the top, drenching the landscape. I clutch Alex with my arms and my thighs, my knees bending of their own volition while I squelch my rasping cries against his neck as wild, unstoppable waves break inside me and my body grips him again and again.
He buries his face against my neck, muffling his own hoarse shout while he spends himself inside me.
For a moment, we just stand there. Breathing hard. Wrapped around each other. I feel his shaft softening, but I don't want to give up the sensation of him filling me quite yet. How long has it been? Too long. No one makes me feel the way Alex does. No one understands what I want and need the way he does. When it comes to sex, that is. His secretive nature keeps him from giving me the one thing I've prayed for since the day I met him.
Total honesty.
Alex withdraws, taking three steps backward. "You might want to fix your clothes before you walk out of this room."
He turns and leaves me there, tossing the condom into a rubbish bin alongside the doors.
The bastard fucked me and left.
I pull up my trousers and underwear, attempting to calm my pounding heart and ragged breathing.
He ran away.
And the next time I get him alone, he will tell me why.
Chapter Eleven
Alex
I rush back to my office, exchange the kilt for trousers, and collapse into my chair. I'm breathing hard, from fornicating with Cat and from running away. Why did I do that? Because I'd finished with her, that's why. Not because our encounter disturbed me in ways I prefer not to examine too closely. Catriona will always be the most sensual woman I've ever known, and the most incredible shag on earth. Maybe I loved her once, maybe a part of me still does, but that doesn't matter. I'm meant to be alone, and I will not get entangled in any sort of relationship with her.
My desk phone rings.
Lifting my hand, intending to pick up the receiver, I realize my hand is trembling. I squeeze it into a fist until the tremors subside. Sex doesn't normally have this effect on me, but the suddenness of my lust for Catriona must have shot a massive dose of adrenaline through my body. Adrenaline, yes, that's the problem.
I grab the phone. "Dr. Alex Thorne."
"Why have you been ignoring us?" a familiar female voice asks, her accent mirroring mine. "We're so worried about you, dear."
The tension gushes out of me on a huge sigh. "I'm fine, Imogen, don't worry. Why are you calling my office phone? How did you even get this number?"
"I rang the university switchboard and asked for you."
Of course they would give out my office number. Faculty phone numbers are public so students can call us anytime.
"Well, now that you know I'm alive and kicking," I say, "you can go back to knitting or taxidermy or whatever your hobby is today."
She laughs with deep affection. "You sweet, darling boy. Taxidermy? Don't you know by now that you can't scare us away with that sort of talk? You were much worse about it when we first found you, but we helped get you through the transition. Don't slide backward now, after all these years."
Am I backsliding? Possibly. Does it matter? No.
"I have to go," I say. "It's my office hours, and lots of students need to talk to me."
Few students ever come to my office, mostly females, and all determined to seduce me. Even I'm not a big enough wanker to let them have their way. Those nubile coeds are scrumptious, but I can't muster one iota of desire for any of them. Besides, though I might be a monumental arse, even I don't sleep with students.
What do you know? I have one up on Iain MacTaggart. He'd shagged a student in America and gotten run out of the country for it. He was a resident alien at the time, whereas I'm a citizen, so if I ever should decide to sleep with a student, I can't be run out of the country.