Deviant - Black Mountain Academy

I step closer to her, ensuring there’s no longer space between us. This is dangerous, being so close with the door open, but it only makes my dick harder. The thought of being seen, getting caught, and as her pupils dilate, I can see it turns her on as much as it does me.

I reach for her chin. Gripping it between my thumb and forefinger, I tip her head back, ensuring her pretty, steel gaze is locked on mine. “I think you want to stay back in my class after school. I want that too. Perhaps you should.” I tip my head to the side and lean in farther. Not too close, but close enough so that only she hears my next words. “You’ll shut the door behind you and come to my desk,” I whisper, lowering my voice further. “And when you reach the wooden edge, you’ll bend over it, sliding that tiny fucking skirt up and over your hips until your probably nonexistent panties are visible.”

“What if—”

“Which means you’ll be on display for me. I’ll see your pretty pussy,” I murmur in her face. Leaning in, I capture the lobe of her ear, biting down hard until I elicit the whimper I’ve been craving. Then I allow my lips to feather over her ear, and the scent of her perfume invades my senses. “And if you don’t come to my class, the offer is off the table.”

I turn and walk out of the room, leaving her alone to mull over my words. As much as I know I shouldn’t be doing this, I can’t stop myself from the ache that drives itself through my chest each time she walks into my class and every time she flits those heated orbs over me.

It’s probably best that she doesn’t obey me this afternoon. She should steer clear of me, run in the opposite direction, but something tells me Arabella is not thinking clearly, just like me. By the time I reach my classroom, I find the students already seated, waiting. I’m frazzled. No woman, or girl, has ever had my mind so fucked before, and I’m not sure how to handle it.

However, instead of thinking about her anymore, I flip open the textbook and get into the lesson I planned for today.

She won’t come to the class.

She won’t come to the class.

This is my mantra as I teach. And even though I continue silently replaying it in my mind, I know for a fact it’s a lie.I glance at the time. It’s almost three, and I have to admit to myself, I’m nervous. A shadow at the threshold of my class has me whipping my head to the side, but I see Principal Dawson standing there.

“Good afternoon, Elian,” he says in a serious tone. “I wanted to chat with you about the new student, Arabella Davenport.” He steps deeper into the room, and my chest tightens at the mention of her name.

“Yes, of course. How can I help you?”

“I just wanted to get your feedback on how you think she’s doing. I saw Arabella with your brother this morning.”

For a moment, I’m stumped that Dawson would question me, but then again, I don’t know if he’s just being a good principal, or if there’s more to it. He is the only person who knows we’re brothers. I’ve kept my personal life private. Perhaps he’s truly concerned about our new student. “Yes, they’ve become friends over the past few days. I’m not sure why her aunt would be concerned.”

“Arabella has been in trouble before as you read in her file, she’s … somewhat of a loose cannon. I just wanted to make sure that she wasn’t doing anything that could land her in the sheriff’s office. She’s eighteen now, so that would be a serious offense on her part.”

I push to my feet, needing to defend her. As much as she taunts me, I am almost certain she’s not doing anything stupid to get herself in trouble with the law. “I can talk to her,” I tell him. “I actually have a meeting with her this afternoon.” Lie. It’s all lies. A meeting with her is nothing more than a way to see if our attraction is more than a game.

“Thank you,” he says. “That would be good. Even if you were to say, take her under your wing. Keep an eye on her. She’s a good girl. Her aunt is convinced she has potential. She just needs the right guidance.”

“I would be happy to help,” I tell him earnestly as the door creaks, and I see the pretty girl in question on the threshold of her doom. A smile tilts my lips as I take in her wide eyes that flit between the principal and me. “Come in, Arabella,” I call to her, waiting for her reaction.