Page 49 of Edge of Stars

His lips curl a little higher, with that mix of sultry and masculine only he seems capable of. At least to the point of all the places it awakens inside me. Damn it, I’m aroused even in the pits of my elbows and the valleys between my toes.

“Anything to keep the lectures interesting for my favorite students.”

“Ohhh, I see.” And nod as if we’re simply discussing classroom seating changes. “Any particular pupils in mind?”

I’m ready to extend my own attempt at purposeful and sultry, but my sudden yelp breaks into the quest. It gets a repeat as I’m lifted up then flipped back, landing prone in the midst of more dress rips. Or maybe that’s the sheets I can’t seem to escape. I can’t tell the difference anymore, and I’m not sure if I want to.

By the time I’m reoriented enough to look back up at Maximus, he’s got a whole new outlook of his own. No more babbling languages. No more sultry smirks. And definitely no more pot pies or pizzas to order.

Though he’s definitely ready to close his teeth in on something.

“Particular pupils, hmmm?” His gaze roams my face, starting with where he brushes fingers at my hairline down to the curve of my chin. During his journey, he tunnels that touch deeper into my hair. Tugs at my roots with rougher determination. Defined possession. Brutal domination.

My breaths come faster. Oh, God. The pain…it feels so good.

“You know, it takes special effort to be my favorite.”

My air snags again. “I’m willing to put in the effort.”

He pulls a little harder. When I let my head rock back from the force, a hiss escapes my lips. His eyes tighten at the corners. His irises darken, a combination of twilight and midnight in their fixated depths.

“To do whatever it takes?”

I’m ready to nod as fast as I can in spite of my ongoing perplexity. How is he the one not wearing a stitch but controlling me like I’m the one kneeling naked at his feet?

He’s not ready to stop either.

“Kara?” he growls, outlining it with more impatience.

“I heard you.”

Master. It’s on the tip of my tongue, ready to be slipped in with all the snark I can roll up, but he’s not the only one with fun mind games at the ready. “And I’m ready to answer too. Just depends on what lengths you’re asking for.”

Once I demonstrate the reason for my emphasis, sliding a hand down and around his erection once more, he’s forced back into reaction mode. When the low chuckle in my ear coincides with the jumping flesh in my grip, a special thrill zaps my veins. An even better version hits with the next flurry of my heartbeat. This adventurous, ferocious man is now my husband. If fate wills it, we’re going to have a lifetime of trying to outwit and out-sex each other.

But even that won’t be enough.

For now, I revel in the glory of the gorgeous smile he beams down at me while maneuvering the middle of his body to notch to the center of mine. But it’s not as simple as usual, with the layers of different fabric still between us. The sheets are easy enough to yank away, but my dress is still intact in all the not-so-advantageous places. It’d be a funny coincidence if we both weren’t so ready to get conjugal.

I don’t give the man any doubts about my standpoint on the subject. As quickly as physically possible, I grab at the zipper along my side—the one that’s not torn open yet—and help out with a vehement tug.

“Here,” I tell Maximus. “For leverage.”

He frowns. “For what?”

“Do it,” I counter, even attempting to start the new rip for myself. “Whatever you have to.”

Just as fast, he gives in to waggling brows. “To your Madame Voracity original?” Yet doesn’t waste a second to widen the gap, rending the sparkling fabric until there’s enough room to push it up and out of his way. “Well, you are serious about that extra effort.”

I take my time about picking out a comeback line for that, but they drop off my consciousness like pebbles off a cliff once the sensual notes beneath his words dig into my psyche. And my pussy…

“As long as you’re serious about naming your lengths, Professor.”

Luckily, that’s the one that decides to stick around. I must know it’s going to earn me a new flash of his devastating grin, though the expression only lasts until he lifts the last layer away from the part of me that’s trembling the hardest. Soaked for him the most. Ready for everything he wants to demand.

He keeps me wondering about that, shivering and anticipating, as he hitches back after his hard-won victory. I even get a little impatient—he fought to get me like this, only to nothing?—except my whole answer is already written on his face.

The way he’s looking at me.