I dropped my books on the worn, cherry desk, saw that all the seats that should be filled were, and announced the start of class. I hurried through background history of our next author, Vladimir Nabokov, before introducing his most important work, “Lolita.” I kept one eye on Auburn throughout, and it wasn't long before the avoided glances and blatant ignoring got the better of me.
I had to talk to her, my fingertips buzzed with anticipation, my throat dry and tight as my heart shuddered. “Let's do a quick free-writing exercise. In the theme of “Lolita,” please take the next twenty minutes and write about forbidden love, and challenge yourselves. Push your limits.” I finished and quickly glanced around the room. They were each opening their writing books, notebooks they often left with me so I could get a glance at their in-class writings. “Let’s say…” I glanced down at my watch, “three forty-five on the dot.” Eyes glanced to the clock above the door and then heads bent to begin writing. I passed the first few desks in her row and when I approached, her soulful eyes glanced up and caught mine. “Auburn, can I have a word with you outside?” I asked stiffly as I stood next to her desk.
Her eyes narrowed a fraction in a cross between irritation and pain, before she finally nodded. I followed her out of the room with rage and lust simmering in my blood. The heavy industrial door clicked when I closed it behind me. She turned, arms crossed and eyes slitted, but before she could speak, I looped her by the elbow and rushed her to the door next to mine. I pushed her into the darkened room ahead of me and followed her in, not bothering to turn on the light. With no windows to expose us, we were safe from prying eyes. It also had the unfortunate effect of heightening my senses to an all-time level with the close proximity of our bodies.
She had me strung so tightly, every muscle in my body vibrated with some mix of passion and anger. “Why the fuck are you ignoring me?” I leaned across the inches that separated us and growled in her ear. I heard her suck in a deep breath and felt her heaving chest thrumming against mine. “Answer me.” I gripped her thigh in my hand and tightened, raising higher, clutching more greedily, inch by inch.
“I told you.” She wriggled her arms between us before they settled, wedged against my chest. I held her tightly, no chance of her darting away from me.
“I don't believe you” My breath washed across the delicate skin beneath her ear. “I think you like driving me insane.”
“You’re crazy,” she seethed.
“You make me crazy.” I ran my nose along the shell of her ear and felt her body shudder head to toe. Her fingertips clutched against the hard muscle of my biceps. As my eyes came to focus, my mind registered that we'd ducked into a janitor's closet. I propped my hand on a shelf above her head and held my body over hers, my other hand still kneading, maybe even hard enough to leave bruises, on the inside of her thigh.
“Reed...”
“Mmm…Jesus, I love when you say my first name.” I groaned, lost in her.
“Don't say that.” Her quiet words clear in the space separating us.
“Why?” I breathed and nipped at her ear lobe.
“Because I'm trying to get over you!” Her frustrated holler stilled my heart.
“How can you get over us when we haven't even gotten started yet?” I breathed as I danced fingertips up her thighs and beneath the hemline of her shorts. She shifted, granting me further access until my fingers met damp cotton. I pushed the offending fabric away without a second thought and thrust my fingers inside her. “You want me the same way I want you, Auburn. You can't resist this pull between us, anymore than I can. Just try, Auburn. Just try to deny that what I'm doing to you right now isn't exactly what you want on every level.” She arched and her hips rocked as she became a slave to the pleasure my hand gave her, my words seeming to spur her on. I pulled my hand from her pants and held her head in both palms before kissing her savagely, never letting her head turn, her face move, not giving her a chance to breathe or leave. I devoured her sense of reality, became her everything -- giver of air, master of manipulation.
“So fucking sweet,” I uttered as my hands moved over her body. She groaned as her hips worked back and forth, bottles of cleaning solution and buckets shaking with the movement. Her arms shot out to either side and fingernails scratched against old wooden shelves as my fingers found her hot center again and sunk into her. She was funny, beautiful, perfect, smart, mine. She was mine.
“I can never get enough of you.” I thrust without concern of hurting her. If it was too much, I didn’t care, because every day was too fucking much for me. I lived in a constant state of torture because I wanted her desperately, with every fucking fiber of my soul. I conjured her everywhere, her laugh at the supermarket, the sway of her hips walking down the sidewalk, and then she came to my classroom and pranced around in short shorts. “And this ass,” I grunted as my thumb slid between her cheeks and pressed at her back entrance, “I’m taking it,” I growled and slid my thumb past the first ring of muscle. She yelped as her fingertips clutched at my shoulders. I felt the burning pain where she’d broken my skin, but my blood buzzed as if morphine was racing through my system. Auburn had me higher than any chemical ever had.