15 | Nice And Neat

**SIENNA**

My mind was still reeling from the shock of his words or the absurdity of them.
One hundred lines?
*Pfft. Lines, my ass.*
His unexceptionally calm yet stern eyes bored into me. “Since you decided to run that mouth of yours, I am adding another hundred. The count goes up to two hundred now. I suggest you get going, or we will be here until dinner.”
My nostrils flared up in anger. Arguing with him was like pushing a mountain. “Don’t you have anything better to do with your time than play the gatekeeper of hell for me?”
“I am not playing anything. Write the lines in silence.”
Once he had issued his commands, he silently resumed back to the book he was reading long before we barrelled into the empty classroom.
Seconds ticked into minutes, and I stubbornly sat where I was, not bothering to pick up the pen and obey him. Somewhere, at the back of my mind, I knew that I would not be getting away with this, but I was desperate to prove to him that he could not easily control me.
The only time I let some else control my life like a puppeteer was because I was weak. I was broken and desperate. But not anymore.
Without a watch, it was difficult to gauge how much time has passed between him burying his nose into the book and pretending to read and me aimlessly killing time.
What seemed like an eternity later, the masculine voice startled me out of boredom.
“Are you trying to prove anything or simply testing my patience?” A freckle of shimmering anger surfaced, but otherwise, he was controlled.
“For a priest, you are pretty narcissistic,” I said. “My acts and intentions don’t revolve around you. If I am not doing something, that means I don’t want to do it. It has nothing to do with you.”
“It has everything to do with me because I am the one who issued the instruction.”
“Too bad I don’t follow the orders given by others.”
“Too bad, you don’t have a choice,” came the retort.
“You don’t have a choice, Sienna. Make up your goddamn mind and do it quickly.” The voice of my father floated into my mind for a brief second. It happened two years ago, and yet, the memory was still alive in my mind like a fresh wound. Still bleeding and hurting.
I shook my head with a wry smile. “There’s always a choice — a bad choice and a worse choice,” I whispered. This was the very same thing I had told myself when I was signing the contract.
“I don’t understand,” Father Sullivan said.
This time, a mirthless laugh shot out of me, still lingering on the monologue. “God, it’s always the worse choices with me.”
Then I met his inquisitive pair of blue eyes that looked more grey in the gloomy classroom. “Nothing that concerns you. I am not writing anything. I am nineteen, not a six-year-old.”
He propped his elbows on the desk, interlocking his fingers and resting his chin on top of that. “Sienna, there’s something you should know about me if you haven’t figured out that already. I will neither break nor bend my rules for anyone. So, you can write the lines, or you can sit here until you do. And every hour that I invest in you would cost you dearly. In the next ten minutes, if I don’t see any progress, the count goes up to three hundred.”
My protest was silent. I leaned back against the chair, arms folded in defiance and my sight boldly fixed on him. Heavy stillness lingered in the air. The tension was so thick and burdened I wondered how long I could keep it up.
He was going to win eventually. But, stalling my inevitable loss was slowly becoming an addiction. Somewhere between hating him and letting him win, I was enjoying this game.
“The last sixty seconds begins now.” His voice gravelled like a death bell as if Satan was waiting at the doorstep. “Do you really wish to write three hundred lines?”
I was going to lose, but I am definitely not a sore loser.
“I will write the first hundred lines under one condition,” I offered.
A smirk decorated at the corner of his lips. “I am not inclined to accede to your request, but humour me anyway.”
“Tell me your age.”
I could tell from his expression that he was taken aback. He opened his mouth and closed it shut, absorbing the initial jolt. “That is worth making a whole condition?”
“Yes.”
“And if I tell you, you will do as you are told?”
I beamed with my hand pressed over my heart. “As God as my witness. A deal is a deal.”
For a beat, he studied me. I wondered if the revelation of age between a student and a teacher was a personal thing, but it kind of felt intimate with him. “Thirty-two,” he said. “I am thirty-two years old.”
I did a quick mental calculation. It meant he was ordained when he was in his mid-twenties, a ripe age for a man like him to conquer the world as I have known. It confused me. “How does—”
He shut me up with a severe glare and pointed his finger at the paper. “Hundred lines, not a word before that.”
Dammit.
“Fine.”
I picked up the pen and wrote down the lines. *Nice and neat*.


**GABRIEL**

I have never met a girl, much less someone with an age gap of thirteen years, who could so effortlessly kick me off my game. Her sassy mouth and heart eyes were always something that pulled at me, but it was her abundant wits that appealed to me.
It was a fucking torture to sit through in silence all the while she chewed on her lower lips and obeyed my orders. I hated to admit it but, in six years of celibacy, for the first time, I was strained to keep up my vow.
She was the drug, the addiction, and the pulsing need.
It took a long time and an eternal struggle to walk down the path of light, to walk away from abominable desires and hunger of flesh, pleasure and pain. And all my years of effort were flowing down the drain because I was almost possessed to do dirty things to her.
Things that she would spend tears for and yet crave like an addict.
“Done.”
Sienna’s voice jolted me out of my greedy thoughts as I quickly put on a veneered mask of impassiveness. I had mastered the look for years since my days I was a Dominant. And it was this look that brought many a submissive down to their knees, tremble for my touch or quiver between their legs.
“Show me.” I crooked two fingers, gesturing her closer.
She abandoned her chair to cross the distance and presented her work. A wave of satisfaction drowned me. After all, the hellion knew how to comply with orders.
The words ‘good girl was sitting on my tongue, but I refrained from using them. It would have been too fucking obvious. Instead, I gave a brisket nod of mild satisfaction.
Sienna arched her sassy brow that crawled up to her forehead. “What, I don’t get praise?”
Help me, Lord. Do not lead me into temptation.
I fisted my fingers beneath the desk so that she could not see me losing control. “You want praise for a task which in itself is a punishment for your misconduct?”
Sienna shrugged. “It’s called motivation. A little appreciation should not hurt.”
I feigned a bored expression and briefly looked down at the neatly handwritten sheet. “Good…” *Do not say ‘girl’. Do not say ‘girl’.* “…job. Now, get on with the next hundred lines.”
“C’mon!” She whined in a high pitched voice. “I need a break. You know, stretch my legs and get some air.”
I relaxed back on the chair as vivid images of last night invaded my thoughts. “That reminds me, how did you sleep last night?”
Sienna shot me a narrowed glare. I have seen this look so many times on her that it was becoming infectious. With one of her fingers raised, she straightened her stance. “Let me rephrase the question for you: how did my legs feel after you made me do laps in the middle of the night? Why, yes, thank you for your concern. My legs are extremely sore, and I thought I would fall off the stairs while walking down.”
“Don’t be overdramatic,” I dismissed. “You slept well. I don’t see the dark circles around your eyes anymore, and that sass tells me more than you’d say in words.”
“Oh, I can use words very well. I am not sure you want to hear it.”
I enjoyed her momentary snicker because I could see that she was happy to have slept. My possessive instinct kicked in, and I wanted to inquire more about her insomnia issues, but I didn’t. It seemed personal to her. So I steered the conversation to a safer route.
“Unless you want to starve for lunch, finish the next hundred lines. And be quick about it, Miss Emerson.”
“If I am starving, so will you,” she pointed out. “Because I have a feeling that you are not going anywhere.”
“You are right; I am won’t be leaving this room until my instructions are followed to the letter. And I don’t mind starving. I had gone through many fasting sessions at the seminary before I was ordained as a priest of this parish. Serving God requires dedication.”
“So as building those sexy abs and biceps.” As soon as the words dropped out of her lips, her eyes widened in shock. “*Shit*.”
Sienna quickly grabbed the paper and pen and prepared to retreat, but I acted on fast. I seized her wrist and pinned her in place, and even though she was squirming in my hold, her strength was no match to mine.
“Repeat that,” I demanded in no uncertain terms.
“I should get back to the lines.” She fluttered those long lashes with a pleading look, but I was relentless.
“I said repeat what you said.”
“I said I should—”
I scolded. “Before that.”
“It was just a slip of the tongue, okay?” She almost snapped impatiently and then sighed. Although Sienna was no longer squirming, I didn’t lose my hold. Oddly enough, I felt good.
To hold her tight and in my thrall. I knew it unnerved her, but somehow, it was easy to read her mind in this way.
“No, not okay.” I stood my ground and hardened my voice. “Sienna, I won’t be repeating myself again.”
She thought for a long hesitant moment, but when the impatient hold on her wrist tightened, another sigh made past her lips.
“Abs and biceps.” She rolled her almond eyes, blowing a strand of hair out of her face. “For a thirty-two-year-old priest, you know how to keep yourself in shape for no good reason whatsoever. I mean, men of your age definitely stay in shape, but their reasons are different. They want to get laid. What is your excuse for such an extensive workout in the morning?”
“How do you know I work out in the morning?” I quizzed. I had a fair idea by now, but I wanted to pry out the truth out of her.
Instead of resisting my hold, she actually bent down and brought her mouth impossibly closer to mine. “Here’s the thing: you can’t lock in a bunch of horny teenage girls in an ancient building with no access to porn and boys and expect them not to pounce on the next best thing available. Right?” Her thumb jabbed towards the door in gesture. “Miss Fake Blond Harvey is not the only woman drooling for you. I am pretty sure she likes to pet her little kitty….”
I quickly cut her in. “You haven’t answered my question yet.”
Sienna straightened. “And I am not going to either. You want to punish me, go right ahead.”
Men like me never backed out from a challenge.
It was not like I was unaware of the infatuated looks or flirtatious glances at my way. Once upon a time, I prided myself as a dominant and then as a priest and teacher. I knew how the girls looked my way. It was either fear or naive adoration, and I also learned how the little intimidation turned them on. All the more reasons, I inflicted punishments on a non-personal level. But with Sienna? It was getting fucking personal for me.
I knew in my heart that it was going to bring me trouble in the future.
I slowly let her wrist go but not before unleashing the silky threat upon her. “Nothing goes past me in this school for very long. So, I will find it out soon enough. Maybe your dorm mates will have something to corroborate your statement, right?”
Horrified, her jaw slackened. “Listen, I am not a snitch!” She snarled. “What I had just said slipped out of turn. It was purely unintentional.”
Lifting a brow, I smirk at her. “That’s a shame. It was enough to make me curious to investigate.”
Indignation flushed her features. “You are an evil man. Do you know that?”
“I will keep that in mind.”
Her lips pursed in anger as she grabbed the paper and strutted back to the front row desk while my eyes followed her like a hawk and a wolfish grin on my lips.
*Good Lord. It was going to be a long afternoon after all*.
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