by Blaire Drake
“My apologies, Miss Hamilton,” Keaton drawled from the front of the class. “Am I boring you?”
I snapped my attention back to him and realized I was midyawn. Shit. “Yes,” I answered partially honestly. Mostly, I had no fucking clue what he was talking about.
“Enough,” he demanded as quiet giggles and snorts rippled through the room. “See me in my office at the end of class, please.”
A thrill ran through me. His office? Oh man.
“Okay.”
“Do you think it’s possible for you to stay awake for the remainder of the lesson?”
“I’ll try my hardest, sir.”
“I’m honored,” he drawled. “Now, turn to page three hundred and try to keep up.”
I held his glare for a moment and made a show of opening my book. I was deliberately pissing him off, and as his fingers twitched at his side, I knew that it was a mistake. The man had the shortest patience span on Earth, and my antics were sure to result in his hand across my backside at the very least.
Problem was, that didn’t bother me as much as I’d thought it would. Actually, I was looking forward to it. He had a way of making spanking foreplay. Hell, knowing that it made him hard made me wet. I was pretty sure he could hit me three times and I’d be bending over and wiggling my ass at him.
“This will be your topic for the next ten days. The final product will be a five-thousand-word paper. Your paper must cover all aspects of the subject extensively and have sources of information quoted. Treat it as seriously as you would your midterms.” Keaton capped his marker and set it on his desk. “You may start now.”
If only I knew what I was starting…
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: Help.
Dear Professor,
I seem to have missed something. What exactly am I supposed to be writing about?
Xoxo, Darcy.
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: Someone keeping you up at night?
Darcy,
Perhaps attempt to actually read your textbook. You’ll find the answers to your questions in the next three chapters.
Did the coffee not work?
J
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: Is my vibrator a person?
Dear Professor,
Ah. I see. Thank you for your help.
No, the coffee did not work. I don’t think it works if you were up all night after dirty dreams.
Xoxo, Darcy.
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: Dirty dreams?
Darcy,
Please elaborate.
J
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: Yes.
Dear Professor,
Of course. Mud and a desperate need for a shower… Oh, and me bent over your desk, wearing nothing but a garter belt, stockings, and heels while you fuck me.
Also, I fucked your face in the backseat of your car.
Xoxo, Darcy.
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: Hmm.
Darcy,
Dreams can come true.
J
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: Hmm?
Dear Professor,
Is this your way of telling me you’ll be fucking my brains out after class? I have the outfit in my bag, just in case. I’m all about preparation.
Xoxo, Darcy.
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: Hmmm.
Darcy,
No. I’m telling you that, in approximately forty-five minutes, you’ll be wishing you never gave me your panties.
Take that as you will.
J
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: Um.
Dear Professor,
You’re a bastard.
Xoxo, Darcy.
I squeezed my thighs together at the implication of his words. The worst part about this exchange was because he had my panties. My pussy was wet and there was nowhere for it to go except for my seat. Shit! I reached into my bag and pulled a tissue out. Then I discreetly put it under the table.
Even more discreetly, I put it between my legs and wriggled in the hope that it’d preserve some of my dignity.
Well, this had backfired fucking epically, hadn’t it?
I forced myself to focus on the work instead of the e-mails, but it was incredibly hard when my vagina wanted to jump right across the room and acquaint itself with my teacher’s cock.
The rest of the lesson passed in a round of uncomfortable squirming from me, ten tried-and-failed attempts at concentrating, and approximately six words typed.
Yep. It was serious if I couldn’t even focus on schoolwork. I needed an intervention.
I packed my things up quicker than normal, shoved my tissue in a side pocket of my bag, and practically ran out of the room. Of course, I was about to go to his office, so the running thing was useless, but I needed a second of Jordan Keaton–free air to center myself.
I leaned against the wall outside his office and took several deep breaths. My eyes stayed on the classroom door just down the hall, even as my whole body screamed for me to look away.
He was magnetic. That was the best word to describe him. The second he appeared in the hallway and shut the classroom door behind him was the very moment my eyes were drawn to him. He locked the door and looked up.
His eyes found mine.
The brightness of them was tinged with amusement, but beneath that was a shadow of dark lust that made my heart pang. The hall was in Technicolor, and the speed of my breathing increased as I became aware of everything around me. Every person, every word, every different voice… They were there, more intense, but nothing was as intense as he was.
Jordan walked toward me with a purpose. He looked casual enough with his jacket open, his tie a little loose, and his hand in his pocket, but I could see it. The tight set of his jaw, the tension stretching across his shoulders, the teeny uplift at the corner of his mouth…
“Thank you for your time, Miss Hamilton.” He said the words so smoothly that you’d have thought he was entering a business meeting and didn’t have possession of my fifty-dollar thong.
“Oh, I always have a few minutes for you, sir.” I flashed him a coy smile and entered his office.
He was right behind me. He shut the door, dropped the blind without another word, then grabbed me. Once again, I found myself against the door, gasping. He leaned into me so fully that there was no space between us and pushed his leg between my thighs.
“Tell me more about those dreams,” he murmured, his mouth by my ear. He took my earlobe into his mouth and grazed his teeth across it.
I shivered. “Pick a card. There were a few.”
“The desk.”
“I pissed you off.” I breathed heavily as he swirled the tip of his tongue across the curve of my neck. “You flipped me over and fucked me from behind.”
“Details, sweet thing… Were you wearing underwear? Were you so wet you were dripping down your leg?” He massaged my breast. “How hard did I fuck you? Did I spank you? Did you come all over my cock?”
“Yes, yes, hard, yes, yes,” I forced out as one of his hands traveled up my thigh.
His thumb came dangerously close to my bare pussy.
“That’s better, I suppose.” His hot breath cascaded across my shoulder. “Do you have any idea how hard that class was? Knowing you were sitting barely twenty feet away while your thong was in my pocket?” He glanced his thumb over my clit.
I shuddered. “No,” I whispered. “Tell me.”
“I’ve never taught a class with my cock so hard
.” He dipped his hand between my thighs, forcing them to open. “Especially not when the person responsible for my erection was right there, wet, and ready for me. Because you were, weren’t you, sweet thing? My e-mails made you wet.”
I gasped, “Yes!” as he pushed two fingers inside me.
“You wanted me to fuck you all during class, didn’t you?”
I bit my lip and nodded as he slowly moved his hand, curving the tips of his fingers.
“You want me to fuck you right now, don’t you? You want me to unzip my pants and slide inside this tight, wet pussy. Is that it?”
“Yes,” I whispered as a wave of pleasure coated my body.
“You’d love it if I bent you over that desk, wouldn’t you?”
“Yes.”
He grasped the back of my neck tightly. “Say please.”
“Please.”
“I don’t think you mean that.”
“Please,” I moaned quietly, rocking my hips against his hand. “Please.”
“Please what, Darcy?”
“Please fuck me.”
“Mmm.” He rubbed his thumb against my clit and bent his head forward to kiss me. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
“Yes.”
He moved his thumb over my clit quicker, and the orgasm hit me like a lightning bolt.
Holy shit. He’d just made me come against his office door.
“Sorry.” He pulled his fingers out of me. “I have a class in ten minutes.” He touched a finger to my lips.
I could smell myself on it.
“Looks like you’ll have to wait until tonight.” He dragged his finger over my bottom lip before putting his hand in his pocket and stepping back.
I touched a finger to the corner of my eye and met his gaze. “Can I at least have my panties back now?”
His smirk was as delicious as it was evil. “No. You’ll get them back tonight when you’ve ridden my cock until you scream.”
“But… Uh…” I pushed my hair from my face. “I kind of need them.” I didn’t want to walk to my car with my come dripping down my leg. I was already resisting the urge to reach between my legs and wipe it away.
He laughed huskily and pulled me to him. He wrapped one arm around my body and grabbed my ass. His mouth was once again resting by my ear, and he said in a low, raspy voice, “Darcy, since the moment I saw you on my screen, I wondered how much of a slut you really were. Now, I’m about to find out. Are you going to beg me for this useless scrap of fabric, or are you going to walk back to your car with your orgasm sliding down your thigh?”
My heart skipped a beat, and I pressed a hand against his chest. I pushed away from him and grabbed my bag, which I’d dropped when he’d slammed me against his door. I walked back toward the door, clutching the strap tightly, and pursed my lips.
“I’ll be at your house for six, Professor. Don’t keep me waiting.”
Dear Professor, those panties were expensive. You owe me fifty bucks. Xoxo, Darcy.
There we had it. I’d admitted to him that I’d dreamed about him. He knew I’d fantasized in my own head. Involuntarily, too. My subconscious mind was all about him at the moment. It was a blessing and a curse, because who doesn’t love a good sleep orgasm? But the curse was that the desire stuck with me long after I’d woken up.
I wanted to know if he dreamed about me too. It wasn’t an appropriate thought to be having, but I had it anyway. I needed to know if he did. I didn’t want to seem totally crazy if he was only thinking things up in the split second before he said them.
I didn’t think that was the case. I was sure he was thinking of me as much as I was him—after all, his desire for me was why we were in this mess.
I only wished I hated him as much as I had at the beginning. It would have made it easier to resist him. My “no” plan had gone to shit before I’d even tried to start it.
Truth was, I wanted him. I wanted him so fucking badly. I wanted his hand fisting my hair and his hot breath on my neck and his cock buried deep inside me. I wanted him to fuck me so furiously that I wanted to pass out when it was over.
I wanted him more than I’d wanted anyone—ever.
He had a handbook to my body. He was dangerous. He was relentless and filthy, and I loved it. I loved what he could do to me, no matter how wrong or forbidden it was. That only made me want him more, knowing that I shouldn’t. Knowing how risky it was for him to finger me against his door in the middle of the day made me come all the harder.
Quietly, I was waiting for him to fuck me on campus. I wanted to be bent over his desk. I wanted him to spank me for having pushed him. I wanted him to lose all control and give me everything I wanted where anyone could find us.
I was missing my job. I was missing the thrill of being watched. I could feel the recklessness building up inside me. I wanted to be seen… To be caught. I wanted to know that it was a possibility.
I opened my car door and put my umbrella up as I got out of my car. I grabbed my purse—hey, that’s where my clothes were—and the pizza box from the passenger’s seat. I was under no illusions about how this night would go. I didn’t expect my turning up in nothing but lingerie, heels, and a trench coat to go down particularly well.
I expected it go down wonderfully.
I knocked on the door three times. I didn’t have to wait long for it to open, but when it did, my greeting caught in my throat.
He was wearing sweatpants slung low on his hips. The waistband must have been dangerously close to the top of his cock, because tiny wisps of dark hair dotted his lower stomach.
“Evening.”
I forced my eyes up his toned, sculpted body and the smattering of chest hair and met his eyes. “I brought dinner.” I lifted the pizza box, feeling like a dumbstruck teenager at a concert.
What? I couldn’t even say, “Hello”? God.
It was like all my bravado had left the second I’d seen him.
“So you said in your e-mail.” He smirked and walked back into the house.
I rolled my eyes at myself and followed him inside. He took the pizza box from me so I could shut the door and carried it into the front room. Then he set it down on the coffee table. The muscles in his back flexed as he headed for the bar and grabbed a wine bottle from an ice bucket.
“Wine?”
“Please,” I responded. When his back was turned, I undid my coat and shrugged it off.
“Here you…” He trailed off as he faced me. “Go,” he finished with a hard swallow.
I’d successfully shocked him.
“Thank you.” I took a few steps toward him and took the wine glass from his frozen hand. I sipped and turned, knowing he’d appreciate the view as the straps on my garter belt stretched over my butt. I took a seat on the sofa and sat back, crossing one of my legs over the other.
His eyes were focused on my body. Animalistic lust raged in them, and he tightened his jaw, his cheek ticking. His restraint was evident in the whiteness of his knuckles as he clutched his glass. He slowly lifted it and sipped, his lips still tight.
“Interesting choice of attire.”
“From the man whose pants are so low I can basically see his cock?”
The air buzzed between us with sexual tension.
“I regularly spend time at home in nothing but my sweatpants. Do you regularly chill out in your lingerie?”
I raised an eyebrow, my lips tugging up on one side with it. “Why, you’ve seen me chilling out enough times to know the answer to that, Professor.”
He rolled his shoulders and took another sip from his drink. “Indeed. Although my point is wondering why you’re here in your lingerie.”
“Sheesh. Turn up to a man’s house in your Sunday best with pizza and he has an issue with it. I guess I’ll get dressed.” I reached for my purse at my side.
Jordan’s glass clinked as he put it down. His steps toward me were slow but strong, each one oddly menacing as he closed the distance between us. Goose bumps prickled
across my skin as the air between us charged with our mutual desire.
He closed his hand around mine on my purse. Slowly, he peeled my fingers off the strap one by one and shoved it onto the floor. “Did I say I had an issue with it?”
I set my wine glass on the side table. “You certainly implied it.”
He trailed his fingertips down my leg and grabbed my ankle. Before I could say a thing, he yanked hard. I fell back as he turned my body and leaned over me, pinning my hands above my head. My body burned as his eyes found mine and the rest of the room melted away.
All I knew was his strong grip on my hands and the weight of his solid, muscular body on mine.
“You’re a tease, Darcy.”
I slid my toe along his leg until my leg was hooked around his waist. “It’s not teasing if you fuck me, is it?”
A low sound rumbled in his throat, and I tilted my hips up. My pussy pressed against his hard cock, and I lifted my other leg and hooked my toe in his waistband. His arms got tenser as I pushed his sweatpants down and his bare cock sprang free against my thigh. I sucked my bottom lip into my mouth as both of my legs hugged his waist and his hard cock settled against my aching clit.
“You’re making this very, very hard for me, sweet thing.”
“I know. I can feel it.” I pushed my hips up once more.
The hint of pleasure that trickled through my body was heated, and I wanted more. Craved more.
“Darcy,” he growled in a low voice that hummed across my skin. “Believe it or not, I’m trying to respect you like you asked by not jumping on you the second you walk through my door.”
“I don’t want to be respected right now. I want to be fucked.”
He wasted no time before dropping his mouth to mine. I smiled beneath his lips, but it didn’t last long as he took control of my body. Each move he made was expertly executed, designed to tease me and excite me. Each kiss he dotted across my skin, from my jaw to my shoulder to my breasts, was hot. My nipples pebbled beneath his tongue when he removed my bra and explored his way down my body.