Chapter 35

" Please."

I watched as he slowly pressed his lips together.

Then, coming closer, he pressed his body against mine once more. I closed my eyes and silently exhaled when his hand then warmly caressed my hip.

"What would you like me to do?" He whispered. God, my knees just melted.

The fact that he was asking wasn't lost on me, because we both knew exactly what I wanted, and yet he asked. He wanted me to say the words aloud.

"Touch me," I panted, tightening my grip on his tie as his hands skimmed over my skin.

" Touch me, Harry."

Yet despite my clear order, he didn't move fast enough for me.

He hesitated, and that's why, gripping his wrist, I brought his hand down to where I was dripping wet, the evidence slicking itself against his fingers as they toyed with me slowly.

Pushing my head back, I gripped onto the desk behind me and then felt as Harry cupped my breast with his free hand, twirling the nipple around his thumb. It pebbled hard in the air, and it was right then I couldn't take a second more. I gripped onto Harry's hair and pulled him towards me.

"Touch me," I breathed again, just before meshing my lips against his.

His lips responded to mine, and with a dominant upper-hand, he claimed my lips the way I wanted him to - slowly, but deeply.

Hard, but delicately.

I then let out a soft, surprised cry when his fingers started pushing inside me. I arched out, the same time I managed to get myself situated on his desk, spreading my legs to allow him room to stand between them.

His other hand came to my cheek and cupped it gently, which only promised me he was just getting started.

Feeling his fingers seek deeper inside me, I tossed my head back and bit my lip when another moan crippled its way up my throat.

His fingers started moving steadily, the same time his lips had found my chest and started kissing their way down.

The burning hot trail he left was enough to have me panting, the same time l felt how increasingly wet I became, the closer to my peak I got.

My hands found his hair the moment he suddenly knelt down and made my inner thighs tremble. He kissed me right on a cord of nerves running up my inner thigh, and then his mouth was on my softest flesh, drinking up my orgasm.

I cried out in pants as he kept teasing me with his tongue, my clit throbbing against his mouth while the rest of my body desperately tried to keep up. My legs were shaking, curled up and struggling not to clench shut around him as Harry kissed me once again on my most sensitive part.

His fingers were still working inside me, wringing out every last drop of pleasure from my body that he could.

That was the thing about Harry.

As my body burgeoned once again and came apart to pieces, I looked down and saw his eyes flip up and meet mine, as if he knew. As if he knew I was coming

apart again, just because of what he did to me.

Physically.

Mentally.

He didn't have to tell me to come with words; He just made me.

My orgasm passed after what felt like minutes, but even then, hadn't caught my breath. I felt his lips pressing tentative kisses to my mound and inner thigh, but I needed them on mine.

I needed to taste myself on him, to lick the flavor off of his lips.

That's why, with the last of whatever muscles hadn't dissolved into pieces, I yanked at his collar and pulled him up.

He slowly rose to his feet and leaned in over me, supporting one hand on the desk we had just thoroughly violated.

"Kiss me," I breathed, seeing his dark eyes expand as I curled my hand around his neck, staring at his glistening lips.

"Fucking kiss me, Harry, God."

I moved up by myself and claimed his lips, only to feel him cup my head and feed them to me himself. He kissed me back passionately, letting me bite into his lower lip and suck the savory flavor of myself off of his lips.

His body tensed, but he never pulled away.

And as my eyes opened and looked up into his that slowly opened as well, a strange sensation filled me as he stared down at me with a smoldering look.

He never resisted me... because he didn't want to.

But he also never claimed me... because he couldn't.

The day had finally come.

Well, almost.

Today was the last day before I left tomorrow morning. And then the day after that, I would be on a train to college - the college of my dreams, the dream I had worked my whole life to get to.

And now that it was here, I was scared and nervous.

The week had flown by before I had even had a chance to blink. I had stayed mostly in my room, working on the assignment that was proving to test my very last brain cell to its fullest capacity, but at least I had been isolated from the one person that I

suddenly became very aware of that I was leaving soon.

The person I realized I had become too addicted to.

Laying in my bed that morning, I stared out of the window, at the clear sky that was slowly rising and painting the landscape a reddish-orange color.

The clock told me it was only 5.34am, but I had been awake for hours, tossing and turning.

Judgement day had come, hadn't it.

Closing my eyes, I squeezed them together as the aching in my chest I had been suppressing all summer came back now as my mind circled the topic. This time there was no period to save me from the truth.

The truth I had been denying to protect myself.

But you couldn't fucking hide from karma, could you.

It was laughable, really, when you thought about it. I had been supposed to come here to get pregnant with a man whom I was supposed to swindle out of his good mind, and yet the tables had been turned and I was left with a scrambled mind and a heavy feeling of having been fooled.

By Richard.

By Harry.

By fate and by my fucking heart, but mostly by my stupid self.

For not caring to admit that the game I had been playing all summer had always been doomed to end badly.

Sighing, I rolled onto my back now and felt a tear roll down to my ear as I turned my eyes towards the ceiling.

I had fallen for him.

I, Cassandra Berry, had foolishly fallen for a man who was not only out of my league, but out of my world.

And I had ignored all the signs to try and stop it.

The aching in my chest had been there every time I was in his vicinity, every time he looked at me, touched me, or even when he gave me one of his sarcastic remarks and infuriating lectures.

He challenged my mind and he challenged me as a person, but I liked to think I also challenged him with my ways.

My crassness, for example.

And my lack of shame.

I even think he in some way liked that I wasn't shy and always told him what I wanted. Or rather showed him, so to speak.

In the beginning of the summer, I had sworn that I would make him come undone. At the time, it had been more of a cheeky challenge, but somehow overtime it had become... a need.

I needed him to come apart-to give me what I wanted so I didn't have to hopelessly pine after it.

But he didn't.

He hadn't.

So I had kept on pretending I didn't feel anything either, and now, here we were.

But I just couldn't cope any longer.

It had been driving me insane, not being able to crack him and hear him say the things I wanted him to say. When we were together, like a few days ago in his office, his eyes and his touch spoke a million things... but the next day, he would look at me as if I was still just a houseguest, occupying his guest bedroom.

How could a man be so passionate, yet so inattentive to feelings?

I snorted at myself as I wiped a stupid tear away from my cheek. It wasn't like I wanted a big, grand love-declaration.

God, no.

Just a sign that he was feeling some of the same things I was feeling when we were together - a simple sentence or a single word would be enough.

But he never did.

The worst thing was, I knew it right from our first big argument.

That night in the basement, where I had gotten into his liquor stash, he told me the next morning he didn't do feelings.

He just didn't give them the time of his day.

And that, in a nutshell, was why I had continued to ignore the feelings that I had been building up all summer long.

He hadn't given me any definite signs that the feelings were mutual. He hadn't given me enough of a reason to bare my heart... So I had kept to what had always been the unspoken deal; sex only.

He didn't feel that way about me.

And if he did, I would've hoped he would've been man enough to tell me, to fight for me and let me know so I could tell him the same, but he hadn't.

And before anyone said 'why don't you just say it yourself, you big wuss?', it was because I had everything to lose and he had nothing.

He was a fucking mathematical genius.

He was a grown man, set in life and he had everything he could ever want and need attainable within his grasp.

If he wanted me, he could have me.

But me?

I was barely a college student, broke as shit and new to this whole adult-fuckery the world pushed on you.

I had everything to lose if I gave him my love this young and it was unrequited.

Besides, I would look like a fool. 'Hey, remember me, the woman who originally came here to fool you and make you get me pregnant?

Well, I've fallen in love with you now and I would like for you to ask me to stay.

Yeah. Not likely.

But even if I stupidly did... what would be the point?

I was going to college and he was staying here. I was about to start my life and he was already knee-deep in his.

Our lives ran on two different paths and I just couldn't see how they were supposed to meet up, even if..

Maybe that had been the main reason I hadn't said anything this whole summer. Why I had ignored it, but at the same time still painfully hoped he would say something... and getting let down doing so.

Today was my last day.

The last day to survive, the last day to bury my feelings and pretend this summer had been nothing but educational and purely professional, if not a little naughty.

And that's why, swallowing my tears and giving myself a mental slap, I put my armor on and got out of bed for the last day.

The last time.