Truly, Madly, Deeply

by Marian Tee

  Albeit inelegant, the description was fairly accurate, as evinced by the way heads quickly snapped towards the professor's direction the moment he strode into view. Skin taking on a rosy hue, dryness lining their throats as nipples pricked into awareness - such were the readily-discernible symptoms of their desire, and that he had a reputation for being an unfeeling scoundrel only added immensely to his appeal.

  After all, it was a truth universally acknowledged that a single woman would always want what was unattainable, and what could be more unattainable than a Nobel Prize winner who also happened to be a gorgeous, wealthy asshole?

  Her

  Diana was petrified.

  She was doing her best not to show it of course, but judging by the sympathetic looks Mrs. Montez were sending her way and the frequency in which she was being offered tea and refreshments, Diana was not doing a good job about it.

  I'm just being paranoid.

  Right, Saint M?

  But her guardian saint remained conspicuously silent, as he had been for the past three hours. Could it be because St. Matthew didn't want to lie to her, and she actually had every reason to be afraid?

  I wouldn't be surprised if that was so, Diana thought glumly, considering how her friends had acted earlier at lunch. She had told them what happened that morning, and Diana had immediately become the recipient of perturbed-looking frowns.

  'How can you not know about T-PILF?' Amine had lamented.

  'The one time you had to break your perfect attendance,' Magnolia had muttered, 'and it had to be his class.'

  'I think I'm missing something here. What's T-PILF?' Could it be a dinosaur related to the T-Rex?

  ''It means THE Professor I'd Like to Fuck," Magnolia had spelled out with a roll of her eyes, 'and the reason Diana doesn't know about him is because she's always off in a la-la land when she's not with us.'

  She had started to protest (out of principle), but Amine had cut Diana off with a worried shake of her head. 'The whys don't matter anymore. The only thing you should care about now is the fact that Professor de Graaf eats students for breakfast, and there's nothing he hates more than when a student misses his first class for no reason.'

  The glass door suddenly swung open, the swooshing sound startling Diana back into reality, and she scrambled to her feet, back snapping straight and gaze flying towards the figure that had just strode in. Her lips parted, but the words of greeting she had rehearsed failed to come out.

  Instead, she heard herself blurt out, "You!"

  This earned her a look of chilling dislike, and Diana found herself thinking, It should be Mr. Still Furious now. But rather than feeling discouraged, she just felt...excited. He really was the most beautiful man alive in her eyes, and it was such a lovely surprise to see him again so soon.

  She hadn't even dared let herself hope for such a thing actually, and yet here he was. Surely it meant he was heaven sent.

  Right, St. M?

  Her guardian saint neglected to answer, but Diana told herself it didn't matter. She glanced back at Mr. Still Furious expectantly, waiting for him to acknowledge her---

  "Welcome back, Professor de Graaf." Mrs. Montez' words had Diana reluctantly looking away from her beautiful crush (for this was what crushes were, wasn't it?).

  Oh, why did the professor have to arrive now of all times?

  She glanced back at the door all the same, prepared to greet the professor similarly---

  "Did your lunch meeting go well?" The professor's secretary went on to ask.

  But there was no one else.

  "As well as one could hope." A pause. "I've something to work on, so please make sure I'm not disturbed for the rest of the day."

  There was no one else.

  "Oh, but there's a student here to see you," Mrs. Montez protested, "and Ms. Leventis has been here for over three hours..."

  There was no one else!

  "Is that so?" The words were drawled out in a chilling tone, and Diana could feel herself paling as the truth hit her in the head like nails being pounded into her brain.

  Professor Matthijs de Graaf was Mr. Furious.

  Who also happened to be T-PILF.

  And even more furious than usual.

  And forbidden.

  Him

  The professor was silently cursing in seven languages.

  Of course the girl would turn out to be no other than Diana Leventis.

  His own fuckable fucking student.

  He should have expected things to turn out like this, should've remembered the saints above so did love to have a laugh at his expense.

  God damn it.

  He forced himself to meet her eyes, and in them he found all the things he desired and dreaded.

  "G-Good afternoon, Professor."

  Even her voice was a siren call, and it required Herculean effort on the professor's part not to respond. Conscious of having his secretary's curious glance on him as well, Matthijs strove to keep his face expressionless as he spoke to the girl. "Whatever you have to say can be discussed in my next class."

  "I was just hoping to explain---"

  "But I'm not paid to listen to explanations, am I?" He knew he was being more cruel than usual, deliberately acting every inch the scoundrel he was reputed to be, but it was better this way. She might never know why, but that didn't matter. He knew, and that was enough.

  Stalking to his secretary's desk, he reached for the pad of monogrammed stationery Mrs. Montez always had in stock and pulled out his fountain pen. The professor swiftly scribbled a note, saying curtly, "This is my written consent for you to request a different adviser---"

  "But I d-don't want one."

  The reply, stammered out as it may be, sounded like a love confession to his ears, and the illogical thought had the professor spewing another mental round of curses.

  What the fuck was wrong with him?

  Tearing off the scribbled sheet, he slammed it down on the counter and turned back to face the solitary, dark-haired thorn in his side. "I've been doing this far longer than you, Ms. Leventis, so I'd take my advice if I were you. The two of us are not going to be a good fit." And it was damn well true, since his dick was insisting it was going to be a perfect fit for her virginal pussy.

  "But Professor---"

  He walked away as if he hadn't heard a word. It was better this way, he reminded himself savagely, and always would be. The thought had the professor slamming the door shut behind him, and he barely managed to control himself from driving a fist to the wall.

  What was it about her, dammit?

  She was like the fucking Tethered counterpart of St. Anthony, and instead of helping people find things, she was the cause for them to lose things.

  He could damn well attest to that, with the way she made him lose control - lose his fucking mind even - whenever she was around.

  A semblance of a prayer formed on his tongue, but years of bitter resentment refused to give way, and so the words stayed unspoken. While His existence remained true in the professor's mind, faith in Him had long been extruded. God was real, but God was not always there, and so it was up to humans to solve their own shit.

  Tossing his coat on the armchair, he unfolded his length on the leather couch and leaned back as he reached down to unzip his pants. His dick was out in a moment and throbbing painfully, having already swollen to full size.

  Mijn obsessie.

  That was all she was, nothing else. The why was immaterial, but the how was still within reach. Eliminating her hold on him was only a matter of time and willpower. He would jerk himself off as many times as needed, fuck his mistress ten times a day, and even pay a fortune for a ménage à trois if that was what it took.

  Anything - any fucking thing - was an alternative worth trying, for the cost of doing what he craved the moment he saw her was too high a price to bear.

  The professor began to stroke himself, in the middle of his office, decency be damned. What was a workplace violation when his soul was at
risk of a longer stint in Hell?

  And yet...

  He couldn't stop himself from staring at the door, couldn't help fucking imagine how things would turn out if she were to enter his office unbidden, couldn't stop wondering where things would go if she were to see him like this.

  Ah, God, if that were to happen...

  His grip on his dick tightened.

  Fucking obsessie.

  But with the thought having already taken hold and refusing to let go, he could no longer stop himself from imagining. Fantasizing. Craving.

  Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

  His breath quickened as his own strokes became wilder and less controlled.

  And that was when he saw the door starting to open.

  Her

  Diana was still trembling.

  A minute had already passed since the professor not-so-subtly demanded she quit his class, and she wasn't fully able to get past the shock of it. One thing was for sure though. It was definitely no longer accurate to think of him as Mr. Still Furious. Rather, he seemed more like Mr. Furious Only With Her, and it was as confusing as it was painful.

  "I'm so sorry, Ms. Leventis," the professor's secretary apologized in mortified tones.

  "I just don't get why he's so mad at me," Diana confessed helplessly. "And if he would just let me explain..."

  The older woman hesitated. "You still could..." She inclined her head towards the professor's office. "You heard what he said. I'm supposed to clear the rest of his day."

  Diana gnawed uncertainly on her lip, feeling like she was being asked to walk willingly into the lion's den. Which she supposed she could if, that was, she had the spirit of the prophet Daniel inside of her, granting Diana the strength to tame the beast professor.

  If that were the case, then what Mrs. Montez was asking of her wouldn't have been a problem.

  But since she was miserably convinced it wasn't so, she had a feeling she'd end up no different from a sacrificial lamb and get slaughtered in seconds.

  "The professor isn't the type to bluff," the other woman went on to add seriously. "He has the ability to make the rest of the semester extremely unpleasant for you, Ms. Leventis." Mrs. Montez inclined her head towards the professor's office once more. "So if you are truly set on having him as your adviser..."

  And that was how Diana found herself doing what she thought herself incapable of doing. An act of courage, when all her life her own mother had made her feel like a spineless, gutless, good-for-nothing daughter.

  Her fingers trembled as she reached for the knob, and her knees threatened to give out as she stepped inside the professor's office. The silence overwhelmed her, and she found herself praying for strength as her heart raced in terror.

  Saint M, look after me.

  Diana let the door fall shut behind her even as she battled against the wave of paranoia threatening to drown her. Why was it so silent? Shouldn't the professor be snarling at her by now. or could he still be unaware of her presence?

  Another unbidden memory invaded her mind, reminding her of the countless times her mother had demanded she wear more jewelry and less clothes.

  It's the only way you'll get people to notice you. If not for being an heiress, you'd be nothing and always will---

  Diana's fists clenched involuntarily against her side as she shoved the thought away. She rarely thought of Esther Leventis these days, but it sadly made sense that she would suddenly start recalling the worst memories of her childhood. Anger and disappointment were the two only emotions Diana had inspired in her mother, and Professor Matthijs de Graaf kind of...

  Oh! Right!

  Cheeks turning red when she realized she had actually forgotten where she was and what she had come here for, Diana quickly lifted her head, intending to apologize, but then she saw...

  She saw.

  Oh, sweet heavens, what was this she was seeing?

  The seconds ticked by, neither of them moving, her gaze glued to that one exposed part of his anatomy, his fingers still wrapped around...it.

  And oh dear God, the things she were noticing about it.

  It was so much thicker than she could have ever imagined, a lot longer than she thought was humanly possible, and it was so...well...angry-looking (just like its owner, Diana couldn't help thinking).

  Look away. Stop staring. Leave.

  All sensible courses of action, but Diana found it impossible to draw her gaze away, her shaking limbs refusing to move from its spot. He was just so very mesmerizing, and the lazy arrogance of his lounging form in the couch only made him seem larger than life, a living work of art with his blend of refined power and sensual magnetism.

  A living work of art, who also happened to be incredibly aroused.

  And that was when it struck Diana, an idea so tantalizing that it gave her the willpower to finally look away from his member and have her gaze climb the hard wall of his chest.

  She just wanted, needed to see.

  Just wanted to know if it could be...

  Their gazes finally touched, and her breath caught as leonine eyes once again held her captive. No longer cold or enraged, the professor's gold eyes now glittered with heat.

  The kind that craved. Combusted. Consumed.

  And it was all for her.

  Her mouth parted in an inaudible gasp.

  The professor...wanted her.

  The realization made her head reel, and the more Diana thought about it, the more her thoughts unraveled. She found herself backing away, and her heart skipped a beat when she saw the professor stiffen, a brief look of frustration crossing his gorgeous face, almost as if he was doing his best not to stop her from leaving.

  Oh, if only.

  Sexual tension pulsated in the air when she was back at the other end of the room, close enough to reach for the door knob from behind.

  Close enough to still do the sensible thing.

  Close enough to leave.

  She saw the professor's lips tighten as she put one hand behind her back, and her heart began to drum.

  Oh, Professor.

  It's not what you think.

  Diana saw the professor jerk upon hearing the telltale sound of the door being locked...by her.

  She had been a good girl all her life, had always done what was expected of her and to never cause trouble.

  But now...

  Now...

  She made a rather clumsy gesture towards the professor's member, saying haltingly, "That, umm..." Oh, this was hard. "That..." She wetted her lips and just went for it. "That's for m-me. Isn't it?"

  Together

  The professor was done fighting.

  This girl might be his soul's downfall, but he no longer fucking cared. He watched her watch him, something he had thought she would be too shy to do, and if he had to admit the truth, it was simply one of the many things he never expected from her.

  He had expected her to cry out and run away at the first sight of his dick, but instead she had done the exact fucking opposite and even went on to lock the door like an eager accomplice. He had expected her to disappoint him by saying something trivial (oh, Professor, what are you doing?), but instead...ah God, instead...

  That's for me. Isn't it?

  "And if it is?" His voice was carefully controlled, his gaze narrowed but unreadable. "What then?"

  Diana swallowed hard. The ball was back on her court again, and she should've expected it from him.

  As for his question...

  The answer was on the tip of her tongue, but a sudden attack of insecurities made Diana hold the words back. What if she were to say them, and he ended up laughing?

  Her throat tightened in fear at the mere prospect of it, and she found herself wetting her lips---

  Oh!

  Her eyes went wide at seeing it react, twitching rather violently as the professor's leonine gaze fell on her lips.

  She had caused that.

  Hadn't she?

  The realization made her feel giddy, but more than that,
the all-too-visible proof of the professor's desire was gloriously empowering, enough to embolden Diana to toss her worries to the wind. She had gone this far, after all, so she might as well speak the truth.

  "If it's because of me, then I'm...glad." Diana lifted her chin. "Because I want you, too."

  The words that had tumbled out in a soft but determined rush almost had the professor's lips curving, with the way it reminded him of an angel rolling in the mud in a misguided attempt to soil her pristine-white wings.

  Ingenious, the professor thought, but ineffective.

  Losing one's purity wasn't that easy of course, but it could be done, and it was just too bad for the girl that she had before her one of the few men who knew exactly how to fall from grace.

  And stay fallen.

  He beckoned for her to come close with a crook of his finger, purring, "Show me then."

  Said the Serpent to Eve, Diana couldn't help thinking, only this time the Serpent who wanted her to sin was a six-foot-plus god in tweed. It almost had her laughing nervously, almost had her turning back and running for the door.

  Was she really doing this?

  Someone who had never smoked a joint, never gotten drunk, someone who had never done anything explicitly bad, period.

  Was she, being the kind of girl that she was, really doing this?

  Yes, Diana thought. She couldn't quite explain it, but there was just something about the professor that reminded her of the knights of old. Honorable, despite his cruel persona. Someone who would keep her safe, despite the danger he represented. And most importantly of all - he wanted her.

  Even if it was just her body, it was enough. After a lifetime of rejection and emotional abuse, that a man like Professor Matthijs de Graaf would lust for her was more than enough.

  This...it...he was enough.

  The moment she made up her mind, her body took over, her limbs seemingly under someone else's command as they moved with a brazen kind of lushness Diana would never have thought herself capable of. Breasts swelling and nipples pouting for attention, hips swaying and tender folds that had just begun to ache and grow moist...