Total pages in book: 146
Estimated words: 147801 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 739(@200wpm)___ 591(@250wpm)___ 493(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 147801 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 739(@200wpm)___ 591(@250wpm)___ 493(@300wpm)
And yet, right now, I can’t stop staring.
Objectively, I can admit he has a body that demands attention. It’s the kind of physique that’s the result of taking workouts and physical discipline seriously. Chiseled muscles that carve through his skin, an eight-pack that seems almost too perfect to be real, and veiny-toned arms that speak of raw power beneath the surface.
My throat dries—due to the stupid drugs, no doubt.
This is no typical professor's body, not by a long shot.
I watch, unable to look away, as his veiny hand drags slowly down his abs, each movement deliberate, hypnotic. His fingers pause at his V-line, the muscles flexing under his touch as they linger there.
But he doesn’t have to go on for me to see his cock standing at attention.
Maybe it’s because his muscular thighs are naked, but it seems revoltingly bigger than the last time.
“Look what you’ve done.” He rubs his stubbled jaw, his eyes looking as dark and empty as the night outside. “Your fight really turns me on, little monster.”
Sick motherfucker.
I sit up in bed, my movements already a bit lethargic.
But I have to get the fuck out of here before the drug kicks in. There’s no way in hell I’ll be in this asshole’s space when that happens.
I need to go back to the drawing board and come up with a better plan to ruin this bastard once and for all—
“Where do you think you’re going?”
He stands in front of me, his hand shooting to my face before I can dodge. No, my reflexes are dulled.
I couldn’t dodge.
…right?
Cruel long fingers dig into my cheeks. “You didn’t possibly think you could be a little cocktease, then fuck off, did you?”
7
GARETH
The skin where he touches me burns worse than hellfire.
I latch on to his hand and try to pull it off, but I might as well be pushing a slab of steel. I’m not weak by any means. I work out and take great pride in my ability to squash people beneath my prim-and-proper looks.
But this asshole is different.
He uses violence as a method to exert power.
It doesn’t add up with the rest of his fucking boring life.
“Let me go,” I grind out from between clenched teeth.
He tilts his head to the side, his lips curling. “Say please.”
“Please go fuck yourself, Professor.”
“Why would I do that when I have you to fuck?”
I swallow and he can feel it, because those dead eyes spark. I noticed they only do that when he’s messing with me.
When he has me under his thumb.
“You obviously want to be fucked, too, or you wouldn’t have come here.”
“I don’t want to be fucked and will never allow it.”
“Never is a reach.”
“A definitive.”
“Nothing is definitive, Carson. You study law. You should know better.”
“You teach law. You should know better than to breach it so blatantly.”
“But that’s the whole point of learning law—it’s easier to get around the loopholes and violate it. But you already know that.”
There’s an undertone to his words I can’t quite decipher. His eyes stare deeper into me, attempting to penetrate the fabric of my soul and seep into a part not meant for the public.
A part even I stopped venturing into.
A buzz ignites my skin, and I hate it. I hate the feel of his fucking hand on me. It’s supposed to feel disgusting, not create this low hum that trickles down my spine.
“Stop touching me,” I say in a clear voice, as clear as I can manage. “I’m not into men.”
“I’m not into men either.” He rotates my head to the side. “But something about this pretty face makes me want to decorate it with my cum.”
I clench my teeth because now I’m remembering his cock pulsing in my mouth as he looks down on me.
The image of him coming down my throat makes me murderous.
But I flinch every time his skin rubs mine, gliding over the heated flesh like an ancient potent curse. Sweat trickles down my back, and my hoodie sticks to it.
Heat builds beneath my flesh, a slow burn that spreads through my chest, making it impossibly hard to breathe. My skin starts to prickle, the warmth intensifying with every second, and every inch of space is charged with something I can't control.
Fuck.
I hate not being in control. Loathe it.
Despise it.
I need to leave.
Now.
“Not into men?” I smile, changing tactics. “You’re so gay, you’ve been fantasizing about me since you saw me, Professor. Not to mention that you were so jealous about the whole Yulian thing. You’d have a better chance with him than me. I can help if you let me go.”
I won’t. If anything, I’ll only use the Yulian angle to hurt him further, but I’ll make him believe that just so he’ll give up.
“Oh, you will help.” He shoves me on the bed and then he’s on top of me, his hard thighs pressing on either side of my waist, and he straddles my legs, pinning me to the mattress.