Page 48 of My Downfall

“You’re not in control here, baby girl, as much as you might like to think you are. Now, get yourself there.”

I rub myself harder, more turned on than I’m letting him think. I’ve never done anything like this before, but I am definitely a fan. Watching Hudson jerk himself off to me is one of the hottest things I’ve ever seen.

“When I feel myself getting close, I bring my other hand up to tug at my nipples. The combination will always tip me over.”

“Damn it,” he grits out. “Tell me you’re coming.”

“So close.”

“Now,” he roars as his cock jerks in his grip and the first spurt of cum releases over his stomach.

That does it. Watching him fall apart because of me is enough for me to fall over the edge.

“Holy shit,” he breathes out. His abs are covered in ropes of thick creamy cum and my mouth waters at the sight.

“I want to clean that up,” I pout through the screen.

“Then you should be here, shouldn’t you? You’ve only got yourself to blame.”

Every night is starting to sound like a good idea.

Chapter Twenty-six

Hudson

Marriage.

I’ve found a loophole in the rules, a way for us to be together and for us both to still stay at the college.

She has to marry me.

The real shocker is that I’m fucking ecstatic about the idea. The man who never wanted to get married, who was never going to settle down, has been brought to his knees by a twenty-fucking-two-year-old brat.

We fly to London tonight, and we’ll enjoy the few days we’ve got there just the two of us, but once we’re back, we’re going to be having a serious conversation.

She needs to realize she’s mine.

Forever.

***

We walk through the doors of the private jet just after dinner time. She still doesn’t know where we’re going and she’s not shy about letting me know she’s not happy about it.

“Dotheyknow where we’re going?” she asks of the flight crew who have welcomed us onboard.

“I would hope so seeing as they’ve got to get us there.”

“Hmph,” she huffs as she flops into one of the buttery soft leather chairs.

“Champagne?” A middle-aged stewardess asks.

“Thank you,” I smile at her as I take the two flutes she’s holding out on the tray.

“Excuse me?” My little brat pipes up from her seat. “Could you tell me where we’re going?”

Nice try, sweet pea.

“I’m sorry, Miss but I’m under strict instructions to not divulge any information to you.” She can barely hold back her smile. “Do let me know if you need anything at all during your flight.”