Lucy wasn’t herself, yet she knew exactly what she was doing—and she enjoyed it. She’d envisioned torturing her professor, seeing how much he wanted her. She wanted to push him to the point where he could not resist her.

She enjoyed the way his eyes settled on her pooled area, his erection visible through his dirty grey joggers. He was shirtless, dirt on his skin, cuts that seemed to have healed better than she had seen at the clearing.

Yet she didn’t care. He looked way too yummy. Perhaps it was because she was horny—no, that didn’t explain a quarter of how she felt. She was on fire, her core...