Lessons in Sin

by Pam Godwin

“I promise you this.” I squared my shoulders and stood, facing him head-on. “I’m going to make your life a living hell.” “Hell is fast approaching, little girl. But I assure you, it’s not coming for me.”

In the interest of moving this along, I let it slide. There would be plenty of time in the coming months to punish her mouth.

“Maybe I didn’t make myself clear.” She gnashed her teeth. “I’m going to fuck up every plan you have for me. Swear to God, my fuckups will be epic.”

“Are there any sharp objects along the way?” she asked my back. “So I can throw myself on one of them?”

My reaction to her made no sense. There was nothing even remotely attractive about the little imp.

I had a choice. I could’ve fucked her. Right here in my classroom, I could’ve broken my vow and fucked her with piss on her legs, virgin blood on my dick, and her heavenly tears soaking the hand I would’ve held so tightly to her mouth. She wouldn’t have survived it.

“If you’re calling me an asshole—” “You’re the biggest one yet. But guess what?” She bared her teeth. “I want this more than you do.” “You want what exactly? What is this one great passion?” “Anything. Everything. Independence, self-discovery, romantic love, spiritual or professional fulfillment—whatever it is, it’s mine.” Her rasping breaths fell in a beguiling tumble of sounds, striking the air with tenacity. “The passion is in pursuing the life I want, and no one is going to take that from me.”

“Disrespect?” She laughed mockingly. “It’s called a backbone, and it’s pronounced, Go fuck yourself.” She spun away and stormed toward the door. “Scrub your own goddamn floors.”

“Either send me home or spank me. I’m not scrubbing your floors.” “Careful, Tinsley.” I fought every instinct that demanded I reach out and grab her by the throat. “You have no idea what you’re asking.”

“You’re late,” I snarled, torn between kicking her out and giving her something substantial to choke on.

“I’m not going to hurt them.” I can’t promise the same for you.

If people had hearts like Tinsley Constantine, my faith in humanity would be renewed.

“Isn’t the gift of attention one of the most selfless and impactful things we can give one another?”

Tinsley was going to take over the reins of her life, even if that meant walking away without a penny from her family. I would be rooting for her, even if I were one of the assholes standing in her way.

“He’s strict, demanding, and has the emotional sensitivity of a coffin.

“Here’s a passage for you, straight from the Gospel of Tinsley. Thou shalt fuck off.”

For six weeks, I’d poked and pushed and drove the beast to the edge. I wanted to watch him unravel so completely he would have no other option than to send me home. I was here for the ruination. Mine. His. No matter how badly it hurt.

“I tried to protect you.” He curled his fingers around my throat and scraped his teeth against my jaw. “I tried, and now, it’s too late. I won’t be able to stop. Not with you.”

“I’m not a liar, Tinsley.” He lowered his free hand to the front of my thighs and gathered my uniform in his fist, dragging the hem up my legs. “But I lied to you once. I’m interested in everything beneath your skirt. Every hole. Every drop of blood. Don’t make a sound.”

Nine years ago, I would have dragged her into the shadows and fucked her like this—drenched, shivering, heartbroken, ass reddened with my marks, uniform shoved up and twisted about her waist, face smashed into the mud, and my cock a hard lesson that some things should never be coaxed out of hiding.

I could lock the doors, spread her over that marble slab, and fuck her until she forgot all about the opossums. The simmering heat in my blood demanded it.

“Magnus?” She shifted, deliberately pressing down on my erection as she squinted at me, her lips a grim slash of accusation. “You’re not thinking about my opossums.” This gorgeous woman. Always calling me out on my shit. Even when she was grief-stricken. “No.” With a groan, I gripped her hips and dragged her against my hardness. “I’m a wretched man.”

Christ Almighty, I would cut off both my arms if it would take her pain away.

“You. The way you are in this moment. I feel like it’s okay to be sad with you, like I can let down my guard in your arms.”

This deep, genuine sense of happiness was new to me. I couldn’t remember ever feeling so content. It had everything to do with her.

Where I was a cold and empty house of bones, she was a vast meadow aglow with lemon-scented blooms and honeybees.

“Does this mean you’ll behave in my classroom? No more backtalk or disrespect?” “What?” She reared her head back, snorting. “Let’s not go crazy here. I’m still going to make your life a living hell.” Impossible. Every second with her was unexpected and challenging and pure bliss.

“Damn, why do you have to be so exasperatingly gorgeous?” I had that very thought about her every second of every day.

“You felt anger with me.” “I feel everything with you.” Dear God, I couldn’t suppress this fixation, couldn’t pretend my attraction to her didn’t weaken my promise to God when, at soul level, I wanted this heavenly creature with every filthy breath in my body.

The moonlight lit up her hair in unearthly hues of glimmering white. Her beauty was elegantly delicate and airy in a way that seemed too perfect for this world. But it was her perceptive, intelligent gaze that reached into my carefully constructed existence and shredded my control. I couldn’t remember my name when she looked at me like this. Like she saw me—the man, the sinner, the murderer—and accepted what she saw.

The blanket fell from my shoulders, and there, in the cloak of night, I stole a forbidden kiss from an angel.

She was my charge after all. Mine to instruct. Mine to discipline. Mine.

wanted her innocence, her pleasure, her pain. I wanted her completely, no matter how wrong.

“So help me God, if you so much as give Tucker your mouth, I’ll bloody your damn hide so completely you won’t be able to sit for a month. Do I make myself clear?”

“No one touches you!” My voice thundered with my rage, scaring off whatever was in the trees. She stumbled back. I stayed with her, shoving my face in hers. “Do I make myself clear?”

“It’s a thrilling kind of fear. Like the way those fake haunted houses ramp up my pulse, dump adrenaline into my system, and make me feel alive. I know the things that jump out at me aren’t going to kill me. But man, do they crank up my heart rate. Just like you.”

do.” He skimmed a hand down my arm. “Every time I see you and every second you’re not in my sight.” His fingers molded around my hips, yanking me tight to his groin. “I never stop thinking through this.”

“That evil look on your face.” My breath quickened. “It makes a liar out of the collar at your throat.”

“Then you came along.” “I’m sorry.” My chest constricted. “Send me home.” “Never.” He leaned his weight against me and brushed my hair off my shoulder, exposing my throat. “If you leave, I’ll haul you back.” “What? You’ll come for me?” “Yes. Then you’ll come for me.”

Now I only wanted to spread my legs for men twice my age who bit and spanked and wore clerical collars.

I wanted to strip that man and fuck him like the good Lord intended.

He was danger. Sin encaged in muscle and bone. A demon wearing the face of a god, the collar of a priest, and the belt of Adonis.

pissed on the floor in front of him. “I want to die,” I whispered when he reached me. “No, you don’t. You’d much rather live to annoy the hell out of me every day.”

“You’re so goddamn sexy it’s taking all my strength not to maul you right here in front of everyone.”

“Thank you.” I squeezed Daisy’s hand. “For giving me the courage to walk out of here.” “Thank you.” She squeezed back. “For giving me the courage to walk in here.”

“When I met you, you took one look at my face and saw me. In that single look, Tinsley Constantine, you showed me how to bravely be me.” She blinked, and a tear rolled down her cheek, compelling my own tears to fall. “I just wanted you to know that.”

“But with you?” He spoke against my throat. Lips like warm velvet. Voice like cold steel. “I am viciously, reprehensibly possessive of you.”

I wasn’t one to readily offer praise, but with her, I would spill the verities of my soul.

Tinsley was expected to marry Tucker, and I was ready to commit mass murder over it.

“What we can and cannot do is my concern. Your only responsibility is following my order and giving me access to your pussy.”