The Professor's Girl | 18+ | COMPLETE |

+ chapter 2 +

note: If sexual scenes make you uncomfortable, run away now. Like. Right now.

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I had forgotten what a mess my apartment was. I really hoped Kahlan wouldn't notice. Luckily, he noticed Charles instead, my fluffy white cat, and he paused to give him chin scratches. He was hot and he liked cats? God damn.

"Are you sure about this?" he said, after I had managed to get him as far as the living room and then had to sit down on the couch. "You're really drunk." He kept saying that. Annoying.

"You're drunk too," I said. I had unhooked his belt from his jeans, and yanked it out of the loops. I folded it over and snapped it, mock-threatening. "Have you been a bad boy?"

He leaned down, his arms on either side of me against the couch, looking down at me. "Oh, no, no, no. You've been a very naughty girl."

Oh. Heat blossomed deep within me. I would have dropped the belt if he hadn't held out his hand for it. I set it gently in his hands. Was he really . . . was he actually going to-?

"Hold out your hands," he said softly, his voice a command I could not disobey. I did as he said, watching in drunken mystification as he looped the belt around and formed a pair of cuffs around my wrists. Keeping a hold on the loose end, he pulled my bound hands above my head. I felt his hand shaking as he stroked along my chin.

"Is this still alright with you?" he said. "Because I really . . . really want to do bad things to you."

I didn't even hesitate. "You can do whatever you want."

The grin that spread across his face was so deliciously predatory. I felt like I shrunk under him, suddenly small and helpless, his willing victim. He took a few moments to just look at me, and to see the appreciation in his gaze made me glow.

"Hmm," he said, examining the cuffs. "Let's try something different."

He released the cuffs, setting the belt aside and crushing me in his arms, his lips finding mine in a deep, passionate kiss. I felt his teeth clip my lip and then his hand was tangled in my hair, holding my head back and baring my throat to a trail of nips and sucks on my tender skin. I was gasping, shaking at every touch. I imagined one of those dramatic Harlequin Romance book covers, and realized I felt how they looked.

He pulled down the zipper on my dress as he kissed me, slipping it off me with expert fingers. Again, the appreciation with which he looked over my body, lingering in all the right place, made me tingle. He hooked his finger under my panties, but didn't pull them down. He was biting his lip, as if he was struggling.

Suddenly he laid me back on the couch, standing above me with the belt in his hand. "Curl your legs up to your chest," he said. "And put your wrists together behind your thighs.

I was little confused, until I actually got in position and he began to cuff my hands again. I realized that in this position, all my most intimate parts were perfectly exposed to him, and I could do nothing to cover them with my hands bound. The feeling of tightness and bondage was driving me wild. I found myself whimpering before he even touched me.

He grinned, running his fingers up the back of my thighs. "Do you like this?"

"Y-yes," I stuttered. My panties were soaked, a desperate need making me ache and chasing away the drunken haze that had clouded my thoughts. "Kahlan . . . please . . ."

He leaned over me, his face far from the inconspicuous library boy he had appeared as at the bar. "Please what?" he said, and I felt his fingers hook around my panties again. This time, however, he slipped them up and pressed part of them into my bound hands. "Hold these out of my way," he said. "And try not to be too loud."