Dear Professor

by Blaire Drake

  He stroked himself as she flipped over onto her back and slid her hand between her legs. Fuck—he knew that pussy. Every inch of it. He knew what it tasted like and felt like wrapped around his cock. He knew what it felt like as she came, how tightly it hugged him as she rode him.

  He briefly closed his eyes. The memory was better than watching. If he thought hard enough, he could feel the very real sensations of her body on his and his hands in her hair and his lips across her skin. When he opened his eyes and focused on the screen, Darcy had a vibrator out…and inside her.

  His hand moved up and down quicker as she thrust the vibrator in and out of her pussy. He could focus on nothing other than the way her moans filled the air and her hips gyrated with each movement she made.

  Watching her—it paled in comparison to the real thing. That didn’t stop his balls from tightening and his jaw from clenching as his orgasm reached its peak and his hot come spilled out of the head of his cock, coating his fingers. He worked his cock until his pleasure petered out and all that was left was the warmth settled in his body.

  Then, like she knew, Darcy cried out, her orgasm reaching its peak.

  That pissed him off.

  The only man who was allowed to see her scream in pleasure was him. The only man allowed to see her reach the heights of desire was him. The only fucking man allowed to delight in her body as she came uncontrollably was him.

  He stood and shucked his pants off, tucking his cock into his underpants. He slammed his laptop screen down and ran upstairs, his white button-down shirt from work still hugging his torso. The bathroom was his destination, and as he turned the shower on, he ripped his shirt off with such force that three of the buttons came pinging off. They bounced across the floor, and one only stopped when he threw the shirt down on top of it.

  He didn’t care.

  He was too angry to care.

  He was angry and possessive and downright incensed. He could feel it in the pounding of his heart and the rich, deafening rush of his blood through his body.

  He stepped into the shower and closed his eyes. The water hit the back of his neck and trailed over his body, washing away any trace of his orgasm.

  He had no idea what game she was playing, but he knew one thing: If Darcy wanted him to watch her be fucked, then watch her be fucked he would.

  Dear Professor, it’s over to you… Xoxo, Darcy.

  I felt equal parts dirty and equal parts proud.

  I loved the rush I’d had last night from being back on camera. Loved knowing he was watching me and getting riled because he was one of ten men who were.

  I knew I would pay for it today.

  I didn’t give a single fuck.

  In fact, the e-mail was already in my inbox, waiting for me to open it. I was afraid of its contents, but last night, I’d grown a pair of balls overnight. I was ready to face this day and today’s history lesson with the vigilance of a well-fucked vagina.

  To: darcyh_345@gmail.com

  From: jkeat@gmail.com

  Subject: (no subject)

  Your ass better be in my motherfucking office at two p.m., sweet thing. Make sure you’re wearing something comfortable, because with the mood I’m in, you’re gonna find your tight ass red fucking raw for your antics last night.

  No “Darcy.” No “J.” Just the message.

  I smiled. Good. That’s what I wanted. I wanted him so damn angry that he couldn’t think straight, because anger was a weak emotion, one that could be easily manipulated. I planned to manipulate his anger right into the kind of situation where he would be easy to break with my newly discovered information.

  At least, that was my plan. First, I had to get through ninety minutes of his class. Ninety long minutes of sitting across a room from him, knowing what would be coming my way, knowing that there’d be nothing short of steam coming out of his fucking ears the whole time.

  Two p.m. The end of our class.

  I was so ready. I was so, so ready for anything he had to give me. I’d take it all, because soon, he’d be getting it all right back.

  I wore my best dress like I was going to church or a funeral.

  I supposed, in a way, I was. I was going to worship his body then kill him with his own idiocy.

  Rest in peace, asshole.

  He was already in the classroom when I got there. I had known he would be—I was late for a reason, after all. His eyes snapped to me the second I pushed the door open. Had I been a weaker woman, I would have wilted beneath the intensity of the stare he tossed my way.

  “Miss Hamilton, how nice of you to join us.” His tone was dry.

  “Sorry, sir.” I flashed him a demure smile. “I had trouble starting my car.”

  “Perhaps you should schedule an appointment to get that repaired to avoid this happening again.”

  “Right after class.” My smile turned sweet, and I sat in my chair with a flourish.

  Jake’s side-eye was full of questions, but I ignored it as I pulled my things out of my purse and got settled in for class.

  Professor Keaton’s eyes stayed on me for a moment longer. “May I continue with the class?”

  “Please do.” I tilted my head to the side and, with a sassy smile, bit the end of my pen.

  His eyes darkened a shade right before he turned around and picked up presumably where he’d left off. I leaned back in my chair, making sure to keep my eyes on him. I wanted him to feel my attention. It was like telling him that I had him pegged without actually saying the words.

  My gaze followed him as he walked back and forth across the room. His jaw visibly ticked each time he stopped talking, and his eyes flitted my way more than once. Each time they met mine, my lips twitched, which only made the anger I saw strengthen.

  I had no doubt that, if we had been alone, he wouldn’t have been so far away. In fact, he’d have been right against me.

  The game continued all throughout class. Jaw ticking, eyes meeting, lips quirking.

  It was the most fun I’d had in a long time—even if I knew my ass would suffer for it… In around two minutes.

  The class ended. Jake grabbed my arm as soon as I stood up and leaned over.

  “What the hell is wrong with you today?” he hissed in my ear. “You’ve had ants in your pants all throughout class.”

  I frowned at him and wrenched my arm out of his grasp. “I’m in a good mood! Plus, it’s bonus payday.” I grinned.

  That wasn’t a lie—my bank account was now much, much prettier than it had been when I had gone to bed last night. Nisha had a great incentive to work hard by the monthly bonuses. Mine was two thousand dollars this month.

  That screamed new shoes.

  “You haven’t been yourself all week. Yesterday, you were really down, and now, you’re in the best mood ever. Are you sure you’re okay?”

  “I can’t be sad all the time, Jake. I have to live, and today, I feel good.” I shrugged and picked my up purse. “I have to go. I have an appointment with Professor Happy over there about my letter.”

  “Do you think he’ll finally give it to you?”

  I had no doubt. “With any luck. I’ve spent way too much time trying to convince him.”

  Jake snorted and grabbed the door, stepping to the side to allow me out. “No shit. At least twice a week, you see him.”

  I should be so lucky. “He’s a pain in the ass. I’ll call you later?”

  “All right.” He hugged me quickly. “Try to escape alive, yeah?”

  “Got it.” I smiled as he strolled down the hallway and threw a wave over his shoulder.

  I only had to wait for a minute before Jordan appeared. His brisk steps had him traveling the length of the hall in seconds, and he pulled a key out his pocket and shoved it into the keyhole. He turned it with vigor and shoved open the door. Then he waited.

  I looked up at him, and he gestured for me to enter his office. With a deep breath, I stepped inside. Apprehension tingled up my arms at the same time that a chill ran
down my spine.

  His anger was palpable. I could taste it in the air as he swept past me. He sat on his chair, rolling his shoulders as he rested his arms on the desk.

  His electric-blue eyes focused on me, and in the bright hue of his gaze, the rest of his office seemed to melt away. I had no idea how he kept doing that to me—it was almost as if he were casting a spell over me, hypnotizing me with nothing more than a glance.

  My heart thumped loudly in my chest at the lust I saw burning back at me. That hard-edged, animalistic lust that drove me wild. I’d never tell him that though. Especially not now. I refused to give him that much power over me.

  He already had enough… But not for much longer.

  “What’s wrong, sir?” I asked as I coyly twirled a piece of my hair around my finger.

  “I’m trying very hard not to be pissed at you, Darcy,” he shot at me. The rough edge to his voice rumbled through the air between us until it hit me full force. His words crawled over my skin, and each one carried the whispered promise.

  Or maybe it was a threat; I couldn’t tell.

  “How can I piss you off? I haven’t done anything.” It was a petulant response—I knew that. But I didn’t care. Mostly because I had done something, and I’d done it deliberately.

  He pushed up and out of his chair and stalked around his desk although he’d just sat down. I inhaled sharply, but he swept right past me and toward his door. Just when I thought he might pull it open and tell me to leave before he lost his temper, he turned the lock.

  The click echoed through the air, and it did nothing for the butterflies that were rapidly fluttering in my stomach.

  I hated him again. Hated everything he’d done and how he’d treated me. I despised Professor Jordan Keaton, but I also craved him as badly as I needed my next breath.

  He didn’t look at me as he shrugged his jacket off and hung it up on the hook on the door. He still didn’t look at me as he unbuttoned the sleeves of his crisp, white shirt and rolled them up to above his elbows. His upper arms strained against the fabric, his toned biceps becoming delightfully visible.

  “Now, let’s try this again,” he said, his voice deathly low. It scared me and thrilled me all at the same time. “Take a moment, Darcy. Imagine why I might possibly be pissed off with you.”

  I dropped the lock of hair I had been twirling and looked at his pants. Despite his anger, the bulge gave his attraction away.

  “I’m standing in front of you as opposed to being on my knees with your cock in my mouth?”

  He jerked his head around, piercing me with those eyes. “Keep running your mouth, sweet thing. I dare you.”

  “Or what? Really, what are you going to do to me in your office, Professor? Give me lines? Make me write an essay on why young ladies should be seen and not heard?”

  And there were my sassy pants. Or, rather, panties. I had my attitude in spades, and I was going to unleash every bit of it on him.

  His jaw ticked, his lips tightening, and he moved toward me so quickly that I took a step backward. It was useless though, like I had known it would be. The grip he had on my wrist was so certain, the tug toward him so strong, that I couldn’t fight him.

  My body slammed into his, and no sooner had the air rushed from my body than he pulled the skirt of my dress up. Cold air flitted across my bare backside, but it was replaced almost instantly with one sharp smack.

  My pussy clenched, and I bit the inside of my cheek to stop myself from whimpering. In pain or pleasure—I had no clue. I should have known that it was coming. More fool me.

  “That,” he growled into my ear. “That is what I’ll do if you keep sassing me, Miss Hamilton.”

  I wondered if he knew how strongly I was considering continuing to sass him just for that purpose. “Understood,” I said. “So, do you care to enlighten me? What did I do?”

  He let my dress go and slid his hand up my back. His breath was hot against my skin as he sank his fingers into my hair and turned me around so my back was to him.

  “Last night,” he replied, his lips close to my ear. “Your little show.”

  “That is my job.”

  He tugged on my hair. “Did you ask me?”

  “You’re not my boss, Jordan. Neither are you my fucking keeper.”

  His grip grew tighter, so much so that my head tilted back. “Darcy. Did. You. Fucking. Ask. Me?”

  “No,” I ground out, my jaw clamped.

  “Did you think I wouldn’t see that email the second you sent it? Did you really fucking think I wouldn’t know that you were spending your night in front of your camera, with your finger rubbing that little clit of yours? When you know you’re not supposed to?” Roughly, he pushed his hand beneath my dress and teased his fingertips along the line of my panties. “Did you think you’d be able to walk into my classroom today and I wouldn’t know that at least one or two of those students hadn’t watched you as you fucked your own fingers? Or jerked themselves off as you fucked that vibrator like it was my cock?”

  “No,” I breathed out, my lips parting as his hand dipped beneath my panties.

  The tip of one of his fingers ghosted across my clit, and it sent a bolt of pleasure through me.

  “I didn’t hear you,” he rasped in my ear, flicking his finger across my clit.

  “No,” I repeated, this time more forcefully. “I knew you would. And I didn’t give a shit.” I gasped as he pushed down hard on the sensitive spot.

  “We made a deal,” he reminded me, his tone tight with anger. And thick with desire.

  “And you won’t let me forget it.”

  “Damn straight I won’t. I have your fucking signature that says I won’t.” He pulled his hand from between my legs but kept me in place with his grip on my hair. “Now, are you going to renege on it again, or are you going to behave yourself?”

  “From the man who just had his fingers on a student’s clit?”

  “You’re pushing me, Darcy.”

  I reached behind myself, between us, and cupped his long, hard cock with my hand. The zipper of his pants pushed into my palm, and I traced my thumb down the side of his erection.

  “I’m not the only thing pushing, am I?” I asked.

  “Fuck.” He hissed the word out, and the next thing I knew, my dress was being lifted up, and he let my hair go.

  My hands slammed against his desk as he bent me forward and moved my panties to the side. He’d barely touched me, but I could feel my pussy throbbing in anticipation of what was to come.

  I knew that this would be a cold, hard fuck designed to remind me who I belonged to. Who, for all intents and purposes, owned my body.

  It would be a reminder and a punishment, all because I’d dared to take control of myself for one night and defy him.

  It was a misguided attempt to reinforce that I was his.

  Jordan’s movements were as smooth as always, and he spread one of my ass cheeks with a strong hand. His fingertips dug in almost painfully, but I didn’t care, because I sighed in relief as he pushed his hard, thick cock inside me.

  “Now, this is how this is gonna work,” he rasped into my ear as he grasped my hair and tugged. “Since you’ve forgotten, Darcy, you need a reminder, don’t you?”

  I didn’t dare answer. The question had been rhetorical. Besides, I was already practically panting from his swift invasion of my body.

  “Now, I’m gonna fuck you.”

  I swallowed and glanced at the shadows of people walking past his office door, a tiny lock and frosted glass providing us limited privacy. I’d known that it was coming, sure, but now, we were there, silent, and I could hear the people outside…

  I couldn’t deny the excitement that swept through my body at the thought that we could be interrupted any second. That someone could walk right up to this door and probably see the vague silhouette of him fucking me from behind.

  I felt dirty, but I liked it.

  “And you got it, Darcy.” He pulled out and slammed righ
t back into me, making me bite down on my lower lip. “I’m gonna fuck you, and you’re not gonna make a sound. Understand?”

  I didn’t answer for fear that I’d whimper instead of respond yes. I just nodded and sucked my lower lip into my mouth.

  “Good girl.” The words were but a whisper.

  I liked it when he said it.

  He was reminding me of more than he knew… Like what it meant to fuck because lust was just too strong. I fucking hated him for that. I wanted to forget what that felt like.

  He slowly pulled out of me. With the head of his cock resting at the opening to my pussy, he gripped my ass. “Who do you belong to, Darcy?”

  I didn’t answer.

  The sting didn’t surprise me when it came.

  “Answer the question.”

  “You,” I whispered.

  He gently caressed the spot he’d just slapped. “And who owns your body, Darcy?”

  I arched my back as his cock entered me fully.

  “Who does this tight, wet pussy belong to? Who decides who and what gets to be inside it?”

  It… Like it’s a tool… Just a toy for his amusement. Just like I am.

  “You.” There was no other option.

  “That’s right. You and your wet pussy are mine. I own you, sweet thing. Every single fucking inch of your gorgeous body is mine.”

  His words… The possessiveness sent thrills through me as he moved inside me. I couldn’t deny it. I couldn’t deny how fucking turned on they made me, and I hated myself for it. I hated how he commanded my body, and I hated that I let him.

  “Now.” He stilled, his hand still resting on my ass, and slowly let my hair go.

  The raven curls tumbled over my shoulder and onto the desk, and I felt the loss of him before it happened.

  He eased out of me and, ever the gentleman, slipped my panties back over me. Great. Now I’ll be walking around all afternoon wanting to screw anyone reasonably good-looking.