The Professor

Chapter Ten | Lucky Number Three

I follow his instruction and find myself in his bedroom, all the while gagged. It's a spacious room that has James' signature style present throughout. His bed is huge and houses white, cotton sheets, alongside matching pillows. By the window sits a gorgeous desk, and it's the only part of his bedroom that isn't neat and tidy. Papers litter the wooden surface and post-it notes line the wall opposite, outlining what looks to be a fantasy plot of some sort. I desperately want to learn more about that, but I also desperately want to ease the ache present between my legs and—honestly—asking him about his manuscript is kind of hard when I have panties stuffed in my mouth. Instead, I position myself in the centre of his room on my knees like the obedient little kitten I am. Once there, my heartrate increases, and my palms begin to sweat. Anticipation builds in my stomach, each passing second as torturous as the last. Thankfully, James enters moments later, confident in his long strides. He smirks as he looks at me, happy to have had his needs met.

"You know, I still haven't managed to get the image of you sucking my cock out of my head." His hands make their way towards his shirt buttons. "And—now—I doubt I'll be able to get the taste of you off my tongue."

Oh my God!

Slowly, he unbuttons his shirt in front of me. I'm a little disappointed I'm not the one doing it. Then again, I suspect that has something to do with the fact I'm being punished for not screaming.

"Are you wet for me, kitten?"

I nod.

"Would you like to help me undress?"

Again, I nod, and he offers me his hand, which I take with no deliberation. Once standing, I gently run my hands down his glorious chest, surprised at how warm he feels. He tenses at the action, gazing deep into my eyes. I swear his stormy blues appear almost turquoise in the face of arousal. They're gorgeous and—quite frankly—mesmerising. I could stare at them all day and still feel robbed of their beauty. Their uniqueness.

His shirt falls to the floor, but before I can make progress on his trousers, he takes hold of my wrists and starts tugging at the hem of my dress. I manage to wiggle myself out of it with a surprising amount of grace and stand before him, almost completely naked. His gaze lingers on my thighs for a moment, before traveling up towards my chest. My heart is about to burst out of my ribcage and the second he reaches for the clasp on my bra, I resist.

"Sloan?"

His concern floors me.

"What's wrong, darling?"

Tears gather in my eyes, unstoppable in their pursuit.

He removes my gag.

"Nothing. I just—can we... turn the lights off?" I ask.

He frowns. "Why?"

Shit! I'm not prepared for this. In the past, guys have had no reservations about dimming the lights. Hell, they didn't even care when I insisted on keeping my bra on. I should've known James would be different.

"I—umm."

His features soften as he captures my chin between his thumb and forefinger.

"Close your eyes," he encourages, barely whispering his instruction.

His tone is soft and his gaze, gentle. He must sense my reluctance because he shoots me a huge, reassuring smile and lightly kisses my nose. I eventually relent and close my eyes, trusting him enough to let him take charge. For a moment, nothing happens. We simply stand there, soaking in energy of each other. Then, he takes hold of my hands and places them on his shoulders, no doubt to ground me. Once again, his lips brush my nose, only this time, he doesn't stop there. He peppers kissing across my eyes, along my jaw, and all the way down my neck. He makes his way around my body and eventually, I'm forced to leave go of his shoulders as he gets himself in a standing position behind me. My hair is swept aside as his mission to kiss every inch of my skin continues. I relax into the motion and let slip a small moan, enjoying the feel of his mouth. His fingers trace the outline of my spine and settle on my shoulders, feather-light to the touch. He then applies the perfect amount of pressure and begins massaging away the tension currently present. My head rolls back, thoroughly invested in the moment and after a few minutes, again, he reaches for the clasp on my bra. This time, I don't resist. With my eyes closed and his expert touch, I don't feel so self-conscious. He remains in place for a moment, continuing his erotic massage. His fingers and lips work in combination, slowly erasing any and all anxiety. I let slip yet another moan and this prompts him to move so that we're facing each other again. My eyes remain closed and for now, I'm happy for them to stay that way. I don't quite feel confident enough to open them yet.