The cameras in his office cannot capture the shallow hitch in his breathing when he moves his head. It can’t record the little scar on his eyebrow or the way his jaw tenses involuntarily when someone is looking at him. But here, I can see everything.
Only once the server disappears behind the counter does he speak, his voice reflecting the boredom he probably feels.
“So,” he says, a little annoyed. “You were stupid enough to?—”
His voice, the subtle movement of his lips—it sends shivers down my spine and lands right between my thighs.
“Victoria,” I interrupt, incapable of paying attention to what he was saying. “I want to hear you say it.”
When he finally looks me in my eyes, the intensity of his stare makes me sit back, just slightly. He holds my gaze, looking like he’s waiting for me to reflect on the insanity of my request.No, dear Professor, I’ve waited way too long for this.It takes a few seconds, but he finally sighs, rolling his eyes in disbelief.
“Victoria.”
The sound of it makes my chest tighten, like hearing your own name after years of solitude. He says it like it means nothing, but my entire existence just shifted with that word alone. This man…I’d let him ruin me just to change that tone.
“I’ve been waiting for this. Not through a text, but my name rolling off your tongue.”
Whatever he thought this would be, it is not going according to plan, based on the twitching of his lips. He’s here for a meeting, while I’m here for soft porn.
“What exactly do you want?” he asks, his voice a groan of exhaustion.
“To be your subject,” I reply bluntly. “To let you play with my mind a little. See what you can do.”
I could lie, find a better way to phrase it, but all my neurons seem to take a vacation as soon as I’m in his proximity.
He tilts his head in disbelief. “You want me to…what? Mentally torture you?”
Is this what I want? To be tortured by him? I mean, this wouldn’t be the first time someone tried and succeeded in doing that.
I move my eyes, looking outside the dirty window in the distance. “Sure, you can try. As long as I feel something.”
Now he actually looks confused. “So you want to feel something?”
“I want to feel alive. I’ve seen your work. I’ve read your papers. I want you to put all those theories into practice.”
“You are severely deranged. I’m not doing this.”
This must be too much for him to comprehend because he scoffs and tries to stand, but I grab him by the arm before he can walk away from the table.
Fuck,thisis how a man’s arm should feel. I wonder how much strength he could exert. Enough to break a neck, maybe? Surely enough for choki—Victoria, no!Right, right. Meeting mode.
“Look, I don’t care how you do it,” I say while shaking my head, partly because I want him to understand I’m not joking and partly because I’m trying to shake away these thoughts that are no good for my underwear. “Ineedto feel something.”
He studies me in silence for a moment before answering. “I thought you’d have more sense.”
Well, so did I. But if he hasn’t noticed, I’ve been holding the handle of my knife through my dress ever since the server left, and my brain has already put a target on the two fuckers at the end of the counter who’ve touched the young hostess one too many times. I’m quite desperate, and he is the only one available to help.
“Azrael, I know what this sounds like. If you are hoping for someone fully sane and easy, this,”—I point between the two of us—“would be very, very hard on you. But I have my reasons for being here, and you’re going to help me, even if I have to make you do it.”
Something flickers in his expression as he takes his seat again.
“I’ve thought about this,” I continue, grabbing the momentum. “More times than I should admit. What you will do to me, the actions and consequences, how bad this is going to hurt, and how I’ll probably hate you for doing it.”
He doesn’t flinch. “And?”
“And I’m still here. I’m not going to beg you, but this will be way easier if you cooperate.”
He leans forward, and I can feel my pulse quickening.