Filthy Surrender:The Forbidden Files

The Professor's Dirty Lessons (5)

Chapter Five –

Avena's POV

“You want to know how you did on the exam?”.

He asked in a rough voice, his hot breath against my ears as he thrust deep.

“You want to know if all that extra effort paid off?”.

“Yes—”. I gasped, my fingers scrambling for some form of anchor on the polished wood. “Please, Noah—”.

He pulled out almost entirely, then drove back in, making my knees buck. “Then beg me to f**k you harder. Convince me you deserve the answer”.

I was already a mess early that morning. I was slick, trembling, and desperate so I pushed back against him, taking him deeper.

“Please f**k me harder. Please. I need to know. I need you”.

He growled, gripping my hips, and then he set a punishing rhythm. The desk creaked beneath us, papers scattering everywhere. I could feel every inch of him sliding inside me, hitting that spot that made stars burst behind my eyes.

“Yes. Oh god—yes. Right there, just like that—”. I kept moaning.

He was relentless, f*****g me until I was incoherent, until the only sounds I could make were moans and whimpers.

“You earned it”, he said finally, his pace slowing to a torturous grind. “A+. Highest in the class”.

The words didn't register at first.

Then they hit me—A+. Highest.

Highest.

“Noah….”. I screamed, cumming right there and clenching around him in a shuddering orgasm that ripped through me without warning.

I felt him follow, pulsing inside me as he groaned my name against my neck.

“Mmm…”. I moaned at the feeling of his hot c*m inside me.

Then he pulled out with a slick sound after we had both caught our breaths. He tucked himself away, and handed me a tissue.

“Clean up. Class starts in ten minutes”.

_________

I barely had time to fix my hair, smooth my skirt, and settle into my usual seat before the lecture hall filled.

My thighs were still sticky, the professor's c*m seeping into my panties in a wet reminder of what had just happened.

Then he walked in, his eyes finding me instantly and my heart fluttered for some reason. He walked straight to the podium and stood there with a impeccable composure.

“As promised”, he started in a steady voice. “I'll be returning your graded exam scripts today. I'll call you up one by one”.

He worked through the alphabet methodically. And as the names were called, students walked forward, received their papers, and returned to their seats.

I watched their faces and found relief, disappointment, and quiet satisfaction on some.

My heart pounded.

I knew my grade. He had told me.

But seeing it on paper, in red ink, would make it real.

“Avena Thomas”.

I rose, willing my unsteady legs to the front. The room felt too quiet as I walked down to the platform. Professor D'Artagnan held my exam booklet at the edge of the desk, his fingers resting on the corner.

He didn't hand it to me, he just slid it across the wood, his dark eyes locking onto mine.

I looked down.

Grade: A+

There it was.

It was scrawled in his sharp handwriting and underlined twice.

A+.

Highest in the class.

I looked up at him and he offered the smallest of smiles with a flicker of pride, of triumph, and of something darker and hungrier that made a chill run down my spine.

“Exceptional work, Miss Thomas”, he said, his voice pitched low enough that only I could catch the double meaning. “Your Professor's lessons clearly paid off”.

My cheeks burned and I clutched the booklet to my chest, mumbling a thank you to him before I turned to walk back to my seat.

Unconsciously, I turned my head to the door only to find the principal, Morrison, staring at me with an expression I didn't quite understand.

I torn my eyes away and continued up to my seat, thinking only about the look in professor D'Artagnan’s eyes. He wanted me to go to his office later to appreciate him.

The thought sent a fresh wave of heat pooling between my legs. I clenched my thighs together, trying to contain the ache, but it only made it worse.

I slid into my seat, my heart racing.

After three long years of term papers and exams, and of stealing glances at him since he only thought the final year students, here it was.

I had not only earned an A+.

I had finally earned Professor Noah D’Artagnan’s cock

The thought made me wet all over again as I crossed my legs, squeezing my thighs together, trying to concentrate on what he was now saying but all I could think about was the feel of his hands on my hips, his breath in my ear, and his voice telling me to beg.

The clock ticked and all I could do was wait for the final bell and the reward that waited in his office.

Another dirty lesson, I supposed