Second last chapter ;)

6

"He that can have patience can have what he will." ― Benjamin Franklin

oXo

"Can you believe they're almost finished, our senior class!" Miss Dash gushes, pressing herself into my side as I stir my cup of tea. "It's their last day today."

My voice is mocking, "Is it? Blimey." I hear a snort behind me and turn my head slightly to find some of my other colleagues by the fridge looking at me with a smile. I don't get on massively well with the teachers here. Billy Wentworth, who teaches Trig, is a decent bloke, but he's fifteen years older than I am and we have nothing in common. Other than him, I could easily leave the rest. I get on much better with Jasper's mates, and boring as it may be to some, my Friday nights are much better spent with a nice bottle of red and a book, than out at a bar.

I take a sip of the tea, leaning back against the counter as my colleagues talk around me. My last English class is this afternoon. My last class with Isabella.

Apprehension stirs in my belly. I want to speak with her after class; I need to know why she's been teasing me. The way she looks at me, lets me dare to hope she wants me at least on a physical level, that this simply hasn't been a game for her, but I can't deny to myself that I want more.

I'm utterly enamoured by her; I want to know what she's thinking, understand her better. I find her fascinating.

Forcing myself not to give in to her the past few weeks has been excruciating. Isabella hasn't touched herself in front of me again, but she hasn't stopped tempting me. Every single lesson she tortures me with a new thong, keeping her legs open under her desk. I don't let her see me looking anymore, but I fucking am. I can't take my eyes off the soft-looking porcelain skin of her thighs, the way her pussy lips hug the little material of her underwear.

If desire were an image, it would be Isabella's amber-flecked brown eyes, hooded and hungry, her parted, full, red lips wrapped around her pen.

I've never wanted anything or anyone more in my entire life.

Last week, when she bent over my desk, her white top gaped open and the cheeky minx had forgone a bra. Her breasts were perfection, perky and full, her dark-pink nipples, puckered and juicy, begging for my tongue. I'd wanted to grab her and pull her onto my lap, let her rub her pussy all over my cock as I sucked and licked at her hard peaks.

Instead, I'd ignored her. Totally ignored her, because I was rapidly losing the will to resist. I want to fuck her, bend her over my desk and spread those legs, eat that pussy she keeps teasing me with, until she's crying out my name.

When I enter my classroom, she's already in there, the only one, sitting at her desk and staring at me with those sinful brown eyes. They drift down to my cock, and I feel a jolt go down my spine as her irises darken and she licks her lips. She's so blatant in her ogling, so fucking bold.

I clear my throat, needing her to stop looking at me like that, and when she looks up and our eyes meet, my heart jumps in my chest, my skin prickling as a wave of heat rushes through my body. Isabella squirms, eyes hooded, legs pressed firmly together, and I quickly go to my desk, all the blood in my body going straight to my cock.

One more class. One more class and she won't be my student anymore. One more class and I won't have to pretend I don't want her.

Students drop gifts on my desk, murmuring thank yous and giving me big smiles. I say thank you to them politely, and feel warmth spread in my stomach. Every single student in this class, minus the vixen at the back, has improved their grade by a whole level this year.

"Thank you for the presents," I tell them, nodding. Their faces light up, and I fight a smile. I'm proud of them, and I know they'll all do well in their next venture. My eyes find Isabella again, my jaw tightening as her lips curve up into a wicked, sensual smile. She's bound for Dartmouth in the fall, an excellent school that will be lucky to have her. It's a two-hour drive away, the hopeful bastard in me checked.

I pretend to stare at the other students, but I can see her in the corner of my eye, her long dark tresses spilling over her shoulders. I watch her raise her hand and feel my jaw jump. I want to go up to her and tell her just to wait. Wait fifty-four minutes and you can do whatever you fucking want.

Despite ignoring her, her hand stays up, and I turn to look at her, meeting her penetrating eyes for a moment. They glint at me, and I sigh internally. "Yes, Isabella."

Her voice is dripping with sugar. "I got you a gift too, sir; it's in your drawer."

My eyebrow lifts as I stare her down. "Wasn't it locked?"

Isabella's fingers knit together and she rests her chin on them, elbows on the desk, poised in the perfect picture of innocence, even as her eyes smolder, dark and enchanting. "No."

Christ, what has she got me? I almost don't want to look, but the whole class is staring at me expectantly.

I open the drawer and grip the desk tightly as I see the contents. A tiny pink thong, one she wore last week when she bent over her desk to pick up a book. It looks lacy and soft and all I can think about is how it would feel to lick her pussy through it, soft against my tongue, wet with her arousal.

My blood is roaring in my ears, and I force myself to concentrate, looking up at my students as one of them asks me what she got me. Luckily, next to the thong is a box of chocolates and I pull them out, almost throwing them on the desk. She had a backup present, the naughty girl.

I tell her thank you and try to focus on the lesson. I really want to push their understanding of the book, especially now they're about to head out into the world. This is my last chance to try to hone in on that analytical skill that will help them in whatever degree they end up studying.

As hard as I try not to look at her, I can't fucking help it, the pink thong in my desk making my head spin. I wonder what underwear she's wearing right now, and if I'll be ripping it off after school.

Our eyes meet, and there's a mischievous glint in hers, the sun splashing across her rosy cheeks, and making them shine. She's so flushed, turned on I'd guess, the heavenly pink tint stretching all the way down to her breasts.

Her knee moves, and my gaze drop down, wondering what lacy material she's going to tease me with today, and my mouth falls open, my eyes flicking down to the lacy pink thong in my drawer.

Fuck. Me.

I turn back to look between her legs hungrily, my already hard cock throbbing at the sight of her bare pussy—pink and glistening, swollen with her arousal, her little clit sitting on top.

Jesus fucking Christ.

The lust that envelops me is almost animalistic. I have to fight the urge to order everyone out of this room and stalk over to her, burying my head between those porcelain thighs, and just licking that wet slit, driving my tongue inside of her, tasting her.

My heart is pounding, my skin burning hot and prickly as I stare at her wet pussy. Such a naughty fucking girl.

Her legs snap closed, and I inhale sharply, glancing up to meet her big brown eyes. I'm on autopilot, hoping to Christ that I'm making sense because all the blood in my body is in my cock.

The look she's giving me almost derails me, the hunger mirroring my own.

Adrenaline surges through me, my cock straining against my slacks painfully. The fact that she's sitting in my classroom with no underwear on, spreading her legs and showing me her wet little pussy, I know now, without a doubt, that she wants me.

I'm barely holding it together, and when her hand lifts and I answer her, my voice is practically a growl.

Isabella stares at me, eyes smouldering as she says innocently, "I'm finding this quite confusing, and it's something I'll need to know for college; would you possibly be able to explain it in a little more detail?"

I exhale harshly, my body so tense it's aching. "I'm afraid we'll need to move on, to cover everything, but I suppose you can stay after class and I can give you a brief summation."

The rest of the lesson is fraught with tension, Isabella's eyes tracking me constantly.

When the bell goes, and the class claps for me, I shift uncomfortably, feeling guilty for my lack of attention this lesson. Several students stop to thank me personally, but I keep my hands in my pockets, my fists tight as I try to keep my desire at my bay, keep my cock from reacting to the way Isabella is looking at me at the back of the room.

The last students leave—and then it's just the two of us. Anticipation and tension roll through me like a wave as she approaches me slowly, my eyes mapping the swell of her tits, her tiny waist, the way her hips sway.

Isabella flings her bag on the floor, her chest heaving as she stares at me with hooded, brown eyes. Whatever she wants, she can have, even if it's just sex, even if it's just once.

"So," I ask her calmly, my heart pounding, "are you going to explain what those are doing in my drawer?"

I've been banned from FB for 24 hours - but you will be able to find the teaser for Saturday's chapter tomorrow in the creaatingmadness FB group - as soon as I'm allowed back ;)

Thank you so much for all the reviews, follows and favourites guys.

Sending you a big hug,

Ella xx