Professor

“Yes,” I cried out. “Yes.”

“And when the time is right, when you’re all nice and primed for me, I’m going to claim you, baby. I’m going to take that innocence that clings to you and make it my own.”

I couldn’t think straight with the desire moving through me.

“Because you’re mine. I won’t let you go. Ever.”

And I didn’t want him to.

“Now.” His voice got harder, more determined. “Come for me, Grace.”

And then I closed my eyes, arched my back, and rubbed my finger faster over my clit. The sound of his voice, the dominance in his voice, his order …. it all made me intoxicated, uncontrolled.

My head was tossed back on the pillow, my entire body strung tight as pleasure coursed through every single cell in my body. I could hear Lucian groaning on the other end, the sound of his hand moving over his cock so loud it was almost like he was in the same room with me. Flesh moving over flesh, skin slapping against skin.

It made me feel drunk.

Wanted.

Needed.

It made me feel everything and more.

And just as I felt my high start to dissipate, I heard him find his own release. The guttural grunt that he made told me he was finishing off, and that spurred another smaller but still intense orgasm within me.

A low cry left me, my toes curled on their own, and my hand was soaked from my arousal. I was left lying there breathing hard, the world a whirl around me. I cared about nothing yet everything in that moment.

Things were moving so quickly, so powerfully between us, that I was left feeling as though the world was opening up and about to swallow me whole.

I had just gotten off listening to the dirty words of my professor and the sounds of him jerking off.

I should feel ashamed, but instead all I felt was … that I wanted more.

14

Grace

I was nervous about going to class, at seeing Lucian after the weekend, after what he’d said to me, what I’d admitted to him … and what we’d done over the phone.

I sat in my car in the parking lot, staring at the front entrance to the Stein Building, where Professor Goode was, where I’d have to face him and my true emotions. I wanted to tell him I loved him, but it seemed grossly inappropriate and fast, even after what all had happened.

This all seemed like a dream.

All Sunday I had worked on my paper, one that wasn’t due for weeks. But I needed to keep myself busy to keep my mind off other things, mainly how I was going to face Lucian.

I held the folder in my hand, the papers inside something I’d worked tirelessly on. I wanted it to be perfect; I wanted it to reflect how hard I’d worked. Hell, I wanted it to show that my mind wasn’t constantly preoccupied with Lucian.

Taking a deep breath, I opened the driver’s side door, climbed out, and reached inside to grab my bag. Once the strap was on my shoulders, I headed inside. I had hours before his class, but I wanted to drop this off before then, to maybe talk with him about everything. I wanted to make it less awkward, if possible.

Although I knew that was me unable to control myself.

Professor Goode was always calm and collected, always looked like he had his shit together. Me, on the other hand, I felt like I was running around like a chicken with my head cut off.

I slowed as I approached his office, the door shut, his name etched into the frosted glass. My heart was racing, and I was starting to breathe faster, to sweat. I didn’t know how long I stood there, but it seemed like forever.

I finally lifted my hand and brought my knuckles down on the glass a couple times. I took a step away, students walking back and forth behind me, oblivious to what I had with Professor Goode. I looked to the left, then to the right, wondering if they knew, if they could see how nervous I was. Could they tell that what we were doing wasn’t allowed?

“Come in,” he said in that deep timbre of his, his voice coming through the wood and glass and spearing right into me.

I felt an involuntary shiver race up my spine.

I grabbed the handle and turned, pulling open the door and stepping inside. The door was left partially open behind me as I stood there, staring at him as he sat behind his desk. He looked up at me, his dark gaze penetrating mine, the desire on his face instant.

“Grace,” he all but growled.

He leaned back in his leather chair, resting his arms beside him, and I couldn’t help but look down at how he had his shirt sleeves rolled up, his muscular, tanned forearms on display.