TEACH ME EVERYTHING PROFESSIOR

The door to Professor Arjun Malhotra’s office clicked shut, sealing them in silence broken only by the soft patter of rain against the windowpanes. Campus lights had dimmed; the building felt like theirs alone.Aarohi stood just inside the threshold, heart hammering. She’d come for feedback on her latest paper. They both knew the real reason she was here.Arjun remained seated behind his desk at first, sleeves rolled up, tie loosened, dark eyes lifting to meet hers with slow, deliberate heat. “You’re late,” he said, the words velvet-wrapped steel.“Traffic,” she murmured, stepping closer. “And… thoughts of you wouldn’t let me hurry.”He rose, rounding the desk without haste, stopping close enough for her to feel the warmth radiating from him. One finger tilted her chin upward. “Thoughts of what, exactly?”She bit her lip. “Of how you touch me. How you make me forget my own name.”A faint, dangerous smile curved his mouth. “Honesty tonight. I like that.” His hand slid to her waist, pulling her flush against him. She felt the hard evidence of his arousal pressing insistently through fabric—unspoken promise.He backed her gently until her shoulders met the door. “Open for me,” he whispered, voice rough with restraint.Her thighs parted on instinct. His palm smoothed down her hip, gathering the hem of her skirt, sliding higher until fingertips brushed the damp heat waiting there. He exhaled sharply. “Already so ready… just from walking these halls thinking of me?”“Yes, Professor.” Her voice trembled. “I couldn’t stop.”He pressed closer, thumb tracing slow, maddening circles over the thin barrier of lace. Pleasure sparked sharp and bright; she arched into his hand. His mouth found the sensitive curve of her neck, teeth grazing just enough to make her gasp.“Tell me what you need tonight,” he commanded softly against her skin.“You,” she breathed. “All of you. Show me… teach me how to feel everything.”A low growl rumbled in his chest. In one fluid motion he turned her, pressing her front to the cool wood of the door. Her palms flattened against it for balance as he drew her skirt up, exposing skin to the air. The lace followed, dragged down her thighs until it pooled at her ankles.“Look at you,” he murmured, lips brushing her ear. “Trembling for your professor. Anyone could pass by this door right now… hear the sounds you make when you let go.”The thought sent a fresh wave of heat through her core. He aligned himself behind her—hard length sliding along her slickness, teasing without entering, drawing out the ache until she whimpered.“Beg,” he ordered, voice dark silk.“Please… Professor. I need you inside me. Need you to fill me, claim me, make me yours.”He thrust forward in one deep, claiming stroke. She cried out softly, the sound swallowed against her own arm. He set a steady, relentless rhythm—each movement deliberate, dragging pleasure from her in waves. His hand clamped gently over her mouth, muffling her moans while the other gripped her hip, guiding her back to meet him.“You take me so perfectly,” he rasped. “Like you were made for this. For me.”Her body tightened, spiraling higher with every thrust, every whispered praise. The edge rushed toward her.“Come for me now,” he commanded against her ear. “Let go. Let me feel you shatter.”The release hit her like a storm—body clenching, trembling, pleasure crashing through every nerve. He followed moments later, burying himself deep with a guttural groan, pulsing inside her as he held her close.They stayed locked together, breaths ragged, hearts pounding in unison.Slowly he withdrew, turned her to face him, and kissed her—soft, lingering, almost reverent. “You ruin me, Aarohi,” he whispered. “Every rule I ever made… gone because of you.”She smiled, sated and bold. “Then ruin me again. I still have so much left to learn.”