The Headmaster's Confession by Laurel Bennett Page B

by the fact that all my blood was rushing to my cock. I appraised the look on her face, trying to figure out if she could sense any of my improper thoughts. She was such an innocent – probably not. A small part of me wished she did. So I could act on it. I shook the thoughts away. Such thoughts would get me in trouble.
     
    “ I try to be,” she said quietly. She tried to be what? What had I asked her? Oh, if she was a good girl.
     
    “ Then why are you here?” I asked. I leaned forward and rested my chin on the heel of my hand. I could prop myself up and just stare at her all day.
     
    “ Miss Loughton would like for you to punish me,” she informed me, her voice shaky but strong.
     
    “ For?” I was almost afraid to ask.
     
    She sighed heavily. “Must we discuss it? Can I just take the punishment?” Her gaze strayed toward the birch stick I’d discarded on my desk.
     
    “ The punishment must fit the crime,” I quipped. A grin tugged at my lips. I tried to hold it back, but I failed miserably. I arched a brow at her, waiting for her to confess all of her crimes.
     
    “ I touched myself.”
     
    Oh, dear heavens. Did she just say she touched herself? Her face flushed scarlet. I coughed into my hand, trying to find enough voice to speak. It wouldn’t be good for me to croak out my next words. I had to be a professional. A headmaster. And actually think with the head upon my shoulders. “Touched yourself?” I repeated.
     
    She gulped. I watched her throat move and all I could think about was pressing my lips to it to calm her. She didn’t look at me. She looked everywhere but my face. Look into my eyes. Let me see you. What you’re thinking. What you’re feeling.
     
    “ Where?” My voice sounded raspy to my own ears. What must it sound like to hers?
     
    “ Down there,” she whispered as she dropped her face into her hands. She breathed quietly for a moment, making no other noises. Then she finally looked up through her parted fingers, not even taking her hands down. Her blue eyes blinked at me and I’d never seen anything so pretty. So alluring. So innocent of any wrongdoing. A heavy groan escaped my throat and I coughed to hide it. My cock pulsed in my trousers and I reached down to adjust it. Her eyes followed my hand, but I was beyond caring. My stones ached at the very thought of this little slip of a girl touching herself. Of those pretty little fingers sliding through her wetness to stroke her clit. Of those rose-colored lips letting out tiny cries as she gave herself pleasure.
     
    “ Take your hands down, Miss Winters.”
     
    She did, but she still didn’t look at me.
     
    “ Look at me.” I ordered. She complied, and drew her bottom lip between her teeth, worrying it. I wanted to draw her lower lip between my own and sooth it. “Where did you learn such a thing?” I asked, instead. Her mouth opened and then closed. Like she wanted to speak, but was afraid. “I need to know, Miss Winters.”
     
    “ From you,” she cried out, as she jumped to her feet. “I learned it from you.” She put her hands on her slim little hips and glared at me. Her bosom heaved with each heavy breath.
     
    “ I dare say I taught you no such thing, young lady.” This time, heat crept up my own face. I must be red as a tomato. I’d lusted for the girl for all of five minutes. Well, perhaps I’d lusted more, but this time, it had only been for five minutes.
     
    She circled around my desk to stand in front of me. The lilac scent of her assaulted my nose before she even came close. “I saw you,” she accused. Her eyes roamed down my body and settled in my lap. Her brow arched as she smiled. It was the smile of an innocent. And it set my blood to boiling. My trousers were tented by my hardened cock. I adjusted to cover it with my arm. But it was too big to be hidden. What the hell? I sighed heavily and gave up. She smiled, her eyes dragging across my cock again. She may as well have reached out