The moment her knees hit the carpet, Vance moved.
He crossed the space between them in three strides, his hand fisting in her hair, yanking her head back until she was looking up at him — at the predator he’d kept caged, at the hunger that had consumed his every waking moment.
“You want this?” he growled, his grip bruising. “You want me to break? To become the monster you think I am?”
“Yes,” Amelia gasped, her hands scrabbling at his trousers. “Please… daddy prof… yes—”
He dragged her up by her hair, her scream cut off by his mouth crushing hers. The kiss was violence — teeth clashing, tongues battling, his free hand gripping her ass with possessive force.
He walked her backward until her spine hit his desk, then lifted her, throwing her onto the mahogany surface.
Papers scattered.
