He tells her to show up tomorrow

His lips brush against her pulse point as his grip tightens in her hair. "Tomorrow," he murmurs, his voice thick with satisfaction, "your mother will hear exactly how her daughter earns her place at this school." Riley's breath hitches as his teeth graze her throat, the threat hanging between them like a blade.

His free hand slides possessively down her trembling stomach, fingers pressing where his release still leaks from her. "I'll make sure she understands the depth of your... dedication." A broken whimper escapes Riley's lips as his fingers push inside, mixing with the evidence of his claim.

The headmaster chuckles darkly when her body instinctively clenches around his invading fingers. "Look at you,"

he murmurs, his voice rough with cruel amusement, "still so **** for me even after I've ruined you." His fingers curl inside her, dragging a choked gasp from Riley's throat as he smears his release deeper. The obscene wet sound fills the office, mingling with her ragged breathing.

His grip in her hair tightens, forcing her to arch back further as his lips trail down the column of her neck, teeth scraping over her pulse. "You feel that?" he growls, thrusting his fingers in shallowly, his knuckles pressing against her oversensitive flesh.

His fingers crook inside her, pressing against that tender spot that makes her thighs shake. "You feel that?" he growls again, twisting his wrist just enough to wring another choked sound from her lips. "Your body remembers. It knows its place." The wet slide of his fingers is obscenely loud as he withdraws them, only to drag them up her quivering stomach, leaving glistening streaks in their wake.

Riley's breath comes in shallow gasps as he releases her hair, letting her slump forward over the desk. The wood is cool against her flushed cheek, a small mercy against the heat of his body still pressed against her back.

His fingers smear his essence across her stomach one last time before he abruptly steps back, leaving her exposed and trembling against the desk. The sudden absence of his heat makes her skin prickle. Riley barely has time to register the loss before his hand grips her shoulder, spinning her roughly to face him. His eyes rake over her—disheveled hair, flushed skin, the glistening mess between her thighs—with cold satisfaction.

"Get out," he says, voice low and edged with finality. His fingers dig into her flesh as he shoves her toward the edge of the desk. Riley stumbles, her legs still unsteady, her knees nearly buckling as she scrambles to right herself.

Her bare feet slip on the polished floor as she struggles to stay upright, the cold air hitting her sweat-slicked skin making her shiver violently. Before she can find her balance, his hand snaps out, fingers like steel bands clamping around her upper arm, halting her retreat. He yanks her close, his breath hot and sour against her ear. "Don't forget," he hisses, his voice a low, venomous rasp that chills her blood, "you and your mother. My office. Eight sharp tomorrow morning." His thumb digs cruelly into the tender flesh of her inner arm, a fresh brand of possession, before he shoves her towards the door with contemptuous ****.