I climb onto the mattress and sit back against the headboard, casually brushing my fingers back and forth across my thigh. All this while he still hasn’t moved.
“As you can see, dear Professor, you failed. I’m right here, naked, and I still have more power than you. And just because you failed, that doesn’t mean I will.”
I turn my face toward him, my eyes locking onto his. I want him to leave just as much as I want him to stay. If he leaves, it means I won, but this will be the end of it. If he stays, he will playmygame, and this one will end with him on top of me and his cock finally where it belongs. Either way, I’ll get what Iwant.
The seconds pass, and he just stands there, glued to the spot.
“Very well. Come, stand in the doorframe, not a step closer. Now it’s my turn to make sure you feel something, and I promise this one will stay with you.”
Surprisingly, there is no resistance. Once he gets where I want him, I drag my hand from my cheek, down my neck. He did this not even twelve hours ago, but he did it wrong. I must show him what he should have done. I grab my neck, putting pressure on both sides, depriving me of oxygen. I imagine him doing just that. The fact that I could see him with just a slight turn of my head plays with my thoughts.
I see him staring with a hunger in his eyes that is so far from the detached expression he held when he first got in. God, he has no clue what he got himself into.
I move the other hand across my body, not touching any place in particular, until my fingertips swipe over my hard nipples. I typically don’t get this aroused from thinking alone, but nothing is typical when he is around.
I drag my fingers lower, teasing myself, letting nails graze skin just enough to leave red marks he can see, until I get close to my pussy. But instead of jumping right in and playing with myself, I just brush my fingers around. The fact that the Professor is watching with such an intense stare is enough to undo me. My breathing quickens, but I don’t rush it. I won’t give him the satisfaction of watching me fall apart so quickly. No, he’d get the full descent.
His eyes follow every shift of my wrist, every tremor in my thighs. But instead of stepping into the room, he stands still with his jaw clenched, chest rising just a little too fast to pretend he is not interested. His hands are clenched into fists, holding his arms folded across his chest. Just as he was told. Just like a good boy. Wait…
I tilt my head, smirking. “Good boy, Azrael. Stay right there and watch. But pay attention, I’m just getting started.”
He narrows his eyes, and I’m quite sure I just earned myself a punishment, but it was completely worth it.
“I let you play with me, but you didn’t even know what to do. Now I will show you what you should have done once you got me naked, okay? I want to make myself cum, care to help me?”
His nostrils flare and he shifts his weight from one leg to the other, but he stays in his spot.
“No? Very well. Just remember I’m thinking of you.”
I press my middle finger against my clit, rubbing it slowly. The contact sends a jolt through me, and I can only hope Azraelfeels the same thing. That thought alone is enough to make me gasp, and I almost stop myself, but then I realize I should let him hear it, let him see what the thought of him does to me.
He takes a single step forward, but before he can move any further, I hold up one hand.
“Don’t. You missed your chance. You only move when I allow it.”
He freezes, but the expression on his face is unmistakable: he knows he is losing and he doesn’t like it.
I continue the movement, my fingers finding the right spot. I’m getting wetter, and unless I get a grip, this will end sooner than I intended. My hips roll instinctively, and I exhale through clenched teeth, letting the pleasure build.
His fingers twitch, and for a moment, I think he might step forward again. No, he does move, not toward me, but to the reading armchair in front of the bed. He sits, legs wide, eyes locked on mine, and watching every movement.
I raise my chin. “Strip.”
I want to see him. And feel him. And probably taste him. This fucking man will make me lose my mind, even more than it already is.
Too many rushed heartbeats follow, and still nothing.
“No?” I ask, lips curving in a smile, but I can’t say I’m particularly happy. “Scared you’ll lose control?”
“Not yet,” he answers, voice too even to reflect the fire in his eyes. “You didn’t earn it.”
Oh, my fucking bloody lord.
“So, what’s in it for me?” I ask the same question he asked me in the café, breath catching as I reach for the vibrator from the nightstand. “If I give you a show?”
“Little ember, do you want a prize for having an orgasm?” His tone is somewhere between a taunt and a dare, and God knows I love a man who just knows what he wants.
I laugh. “As much as I enjoy being watched, I need a reason to perform for you.”