Part 19 (1/2)

She couldn't use her own hands because he was pinning them with own.

”Please touch me,” she begged him. She was being pushed against the bark but she wanted his actual hands on her. He refused her. He wanted to bring her to the edge solely with his hardness inside her.

”I don't care how long it takes, I can do this to you for a very long time, but you are going to come for me like this,” he ordered.

She had no choice but to take it.

Then at some point the sensations in her s.h.i.+fted, and she felt waves begin in her stomach. It was a different kind of release than he normally gave her, it built more slowly and it made her feel even more dizzy. It was the relentlessness of him pus.h.i.+ng inside her, giving her in no respite, owning her core.

Surprising herself she began to climax and couldn't stop crying out, and he put his hand in front of her mouth which only made the physical sensations elsewhere in her body even more intense. The more she struggled the deeper and harder he was within her.

She came like she had never come before. Intensely, bucking against him, almost sobbing. She felt him make extra thrusts at the same time, and then the sensation of his hot essence released in her.

She was laughing now, so overwhelmed, so exhausted. Overjoyed.

”That was good for you?” he asked.

”Unbelievably.”

”We are perfect together,” he said. He refastened his clothing, and pull her down to the ground, putting his are around her. ”At times like this I feel like just leaving and taking you with me.”

”Are you still leaving?” She had become resigned to the fact now the shock of the idea was past.

”I have no choice. Look at us. Look at me. This is out of control.” His hand traced the side of her face. ”I want to be able to be with you, to communicate with you more openly. I know we'll have to disguise letters and calls for a while but at least you won't be at risk of expulsion if I no longer work here.”

29. Entrapment.

”Quick, we need to get to the music lawn.” Susie hurried the others after they had finished changing out of their games kit. ”Not a moment to lose.”

The music lawn ran between the music building and the section of the main school which contained the Maths cla.s.srooms and two flats occupied by Mr Peters and Mr Tyrrell. From the wooden bench by the music room door they looked directly onto it.

”What's going on?” The others were bewildered by the urgency.

”Sssh. Just sit back and watch,” Susie said.

”It's freezing and we have to get to early prep,” Margery complained.

”We've got twenty minutes. Just wait.”

From their vantage point they saw Mrs Ayers striding into the main doorway, and taking the stairs that led to the flats. She looked even angrier than usual.

Seconds later they heard a shriek and raised voices.

”Pure Shakespeare,” Susie said. ”True love never did run smooth.”

Mrs Ayers had been more irritated than intrigued to received Mr Peters' unexpected note. Its presumptive and commanding tone, providing no reason for his summons, irked her. She didn't care for Mr Peters at the best of times, she thought he was an old fool. They had clashed on more than one occasion.

The note was also inconvenient as Mrs Ayers was busy that afternoon. She had had a very difficult morning with annoying things happening to her again in the cla.s.sroom. She was certain they were pranks, but there was a subtlety about them that left room for doubt. While she suspected Susie Clarke she still had no proof.

So she strode off to Mr Peters' flat in a particularly foul mood.

Already fired up and ready to give him a piece of her mind if he had led her on a wild goose chase, she knocked on his door.

”Come in!” he called.

Mrs Ayers opened the door and stood inside Mr Peters' sitting room, her face set in its typically grim line.

Nothing could prepare her for what awaited.

There - at the bedroom door - clad in a black silk dressing gown with a gla.s.s of champagne in each hand, appeared the Head of English. The gown revealed an expanse of greying chest hair and his lips held a lecherous leer.

The smile died on his face when he saw Mrs Ayers. He paled as she shrieked and went crimson with outrage.

”What the f.u.c.k are you doing here?” Forgetting himself in his shock, Mr Peters swore. ”Where's Susanna?”

”I beg your pardon!” No one had ever managed to imbue these words with such fury and disgust as Mrs Ayers did at that moment. ”I am here because of your note.”

”I never sent you any b.l.o.o.d.y note. Oh Christ!” The realisation was dawning. How on earth had this monstrous woman intercepted his message to Susie Clarke? ”What the h.e.l.l have you done with her? I suppose you gave her another detention you vicious old boot.”

Mrs Ayers started screeching at him for this and Mr Peters gave back as good as he got. He was enraged with disappointment that the hag had wrecked his romantic rendezvous.

At some point during the row his silk robe slipped open. He wore nothing beneath it.

Below his paunch the remnants of his ardour for the antic.i.p.ated encounter with Susie were only too clear.

Mrs Ayers got it into her head that he was about to s.e.xually a.s.sault her, started screaming even more loudly and fled as Mr Peters fumbled to close his gown again while trying not to spill champagne everywhere.

Outside the four girls couldn't make out what was being said but they could hear the volume of the row. Susie was doubled over nearly weeping with laughter.

The next thing they saw was Mrs Ayers come clattering out of the doorway, striding off in the direction of the staff room practically at a trot.

”And the bad fairy flees the feast,” said Susie.

She explained to the others what had happened with the note. ”If only we could have actually been there to see his face. And hers.”

”Imagine if he opened the door to her naked,” Charlotte said. ”Perhaps that's why she was screaming.”

It was not a pleasant image.