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“I’m a grown man, Emma. For fu–for goodness’ sake. I don’t look at my students that way.” Ouch.
It’s him. Mr Finch is in the library—my library. Prowling across the lobby like Heathcliff across the moors.
lmao
She wanted me once. Even if it was an adolescent crush, that still means she was drawn to me in some way. Could she feel like that again? Could she ever trust me with her feelings? Or did I ruin any chance of that three years ago when I brushed her off so harshly?
“Well, you know now, don’t you? Perfect girl. Sweet girl. Fuck, I just want to tug this swimsuit aside and slide you right onto my cock. I bet you’d be wet for me; bet you’d suck me in, nice and greedy.”
Emma doesn’t trust me. I can see that. Oh, she trusts me with her body and her safety and to respect her at work, obviously. I’ve cleared the lowest bars possible. But her heart? That’s another matter.
“I thought about fucking you like this in the library, Emma. So many times. Bending you over the help desk and pressing your cheek into the wood; crowding you up against a bookcase and pounding you in the stacks. I want to be gentle with you, Emma, but the way you make me feel is not gentle. You make me feel fucking vicious. You make me want to pound on my chest like a caveman.”
“You’re mine,” Conrad pants, his teeth bared against my temple. I nod. “Yours.” A fresh start. Finally.
