Her Filthy Professors

“Mmm, fuck that’s sexy.” Professor Black is leaning over me, his mouth brushing over my ear as he speaks. “Suck it clean, baby and then kiss me.”

Preston pulls out with a juicy pop. Obeying, I turn my head and he wastes no time taking my mouth with his possessively. His tongue strokes over mine like I belong to him. I never thought of myself as submissive. Quiet and to myself, yes. But these two dominant males make me feel things I don’t entirely understand. But I hope they can show me.

Slowly they both pull away, eyes burning with raw need to take this further.

Limp from my release, I fall into two sets of thick arms, my hands pressing against hard muscles.

“Next time, I want all those juices on my cock,” Professor Black growls. “While you’re taking Professor Preston’s cock in the ass,” he adds, making me shiver from head to toe.

A dark chuckle comes from the opposite side of the room if you can call it that. It was more of a passageway from the commonly used section of the library to the older section no one used except for nerds like myself.

“I see our girl’s memory has returned.”

My head shoots up, my vision a blur from all the lust flowing freely through me, but nothing can keep me from recognizing those sharp, piercing eyes.

Professor Thurston prowls toward us only to come to a stop in front of me. He’s dressed similarly to the others—like they just walked out of a board meeting filled with the world’s wealthiest A-listers. Sharply creased dress slacks and crisp white shirts.

And rightly so. They own one of the most successful cyber security firms. Why they want to spend their time in an East Coast university I don’t have a clue. They’ve been here two years now and they are giant puzzles to me. Other than recruiting brains, why else stay? It’s not like they can’t hand select the top of each class without teaching.

Not that I’m complaining at the moment.

Massive shoulders block the only faint source of light filtering through the doorway.

“You’re beautiful when you give such forbidden orgasms.”

His friends have hands on each of my arms and stupid as it may seem, for a second I feel like the virgin being sacrificed to the Big Bad.

He cups my jaw and considers me for a long moment.

I’m so not the master I wish I was at playing it cool.

Clearly something annoys him about me being here. Or him being here. I can’t tell. He’s hard to get a read on with the light less than optimal and my brains still stuck on hyperdrive after my orgasm. A tight jaw muscle bulges and those piercing whiskey eyes bore into me. I feel like my darkest, most private secrets are being revealed to him, one by one.

After a few heartbeats of staring down at me he gifts me a roguish grin. “I’ve been curious for days about something, baby. Did you do as instructed, Jemma?”

How many times did I sit through class wishing to hear such a sweet endearment from him? Now that I have his undivided attention, I can’t seem to conjure up anything sexy to say.

Whimpering submissively, I nod, not trusting my voice at the moment. His gaze has me mesmerized. I can’t move, look away. I can only give him my full attention. Much like when he’s giving a lecture. Maybe that’s why I excel in his advanced computer science class.

Large hands come to settle on my hips. I realize it’s grown quiet. Not a sound filters through from the outside. Just the tinkering of branches against some unseen window from the storm rolling in.

“What’s the question?”

“Did you sleep with our milk still coating your skin?”

I freeze despite the sudden burst of heat pulsing through me. What a filthy question to ask. If his words aren’t bad enough, he uses his thumbs to caress lazy circles just above my hip bones and it’s driving me crazy.

“Excuse me?”

He raises a brow at my absentmindedness, roaming higher up my work dress until his palms take the weight of my breasts.

“Maybe I wasn’t clear.” Pressing my breasts together, he growls at the sight of my uniform opening just enough to reveal the crease of my cleavage.

He leans over me.

My mouth falls open on a silent gasp.

Oh, what’s he...oh...I like that. God, it feels so nice.