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23. Cohen

23

COHEN

I knew I was staring, my attention hyperfocused on the way her throat moved when she swallowed. Almost as if I could see past the layers of dermis and subcutaneous tissue to the muscles of her larynx. The epiglottis closing over her windpipe to keep those little morsels of chocolate from making their way into her lungs and embedding in the alveoli.

I was the first to admit that my fascination with the woman was odd. At the same time, it made perfect sense when you really thought about it. What I was doing here wasn't all that different from feeding and watering a collection of lab rats. Studying what made them tick, how they reacted to their internal and external environments. Assessing if they could be conditioned and encouraged to seek out the reward at the end of the maze.

In this case, that reward just happened to be allowing her to drop to her knees in front of me… and the privilege of sucking my cock.

Not forcing Emily to come home with me that first night had nothing to do with morality and everything to do with ego. I wanted her begging me, frothing at the mouth and clawing at my back. I wanted her screaming my name when I gave into her and cursing it when I refused. It was about more than sex. It was about complete submission and total domination. About the chase. The game. About outsmarting my opponent because I could and not because I needed to.

Her eyes were locked on the whiteboard in front of us and the professor droning on about some topic that wasn't worth the energy I would have had to expel to even pretend to pay attention. While my glare stayed glued to the tautness of her jaw and the little beads of sweat that trickled down her forehead before getting lost in a loose curl. She chewed on her bottom lip, absentmindedly, realizing it every now and then. Attempting to stop herself, only to gnaw at the plump flesh all over again a second or two later.

Her central nervous system was in overdrive beneath the weight of my scrutiny, trying to compensate for the panic rising in her chest—her body's way of preparing itself for a threat.

And that's exactly what I was. What I would be. A threat to her physical and mental fortitude.

By the end of the sixty-minute lecture, I could count every strand of hair that made up the right side of her head. Could tell you how many respirations she averaged per minute, depending on her stress level. Recognized which of her little sighs meant she was interested rather than annoyed. Frustrated instead of confused.

Maybe there was more to my obsession than science, but even I knew you shouldn't turn a lab rat into a pet.

She was pushing to her feet and slinging one strap of her bag onto her shoulder before it occurred to me that I'd stopped staring and started daydreaming.

"Have somewhere to be in a hurry, Emily?" I grabbed her wrist as soon as she tried to brush past me.

"I'm surprised you don't already know. Or would you like to have another go at a lucky guess ?"

My lips curled into a smirk without me meaning to do it. I liked my girl timid but I thoroughly enjoyed it when she wasn't. "If you're not running to my bedroom, babe, you shouldn't be in such a rush. Sit and finish your coffee."

Her eyes flicked to where my hand was still wrapped around her tiny breakable wrist, over to the cup of coffee on her tray, then back to me again. "I don't have?—"

"Time?" I finished for her. "You have precisely forty-five minutes before you have to meet up with Professor Daniels to review your application for his TA position." I watched her pupils dilate, her jaw drop slightly before setting tight again. She was surprised, just as much as she wasn't. "I wouldn't recommend it by the way."

"Recommend what, Cohen?"

"Accepting his offer." I shrugged.

"How do you even know he's going to offer it to me? There are plenty of more qualified applicants."

"Maybe…" I craned my neck to one side, making a show of eyeing her body from tit to toe. "But none of them look as good in that skirt as you do right now."

Emily quickly tugged her arm free— I let her, of course —before quickly folding it over her chest. "I'm not sure what you're suggesting?—"

"I'm not suggesting anything, Emily. I'm telling you. Show up to his office looking like my favorite little slut and the job is yours."

She pursed her lips, stunned silent. Or maybe she was too turned on to form intelligible words. Either way, I used the opening to nudge her closer to that ledge.

"Tell me, Emily." I quirked a questioning brow. "Did you dress up like that for him… or for me ?"

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