MY STRICT PROFESSOR IS A DEVIL II
1258 Words
He pins me with his sharp gaze, a hint of mischief flash in his eyes, almost as if he’s enjoying watching me loose my mind.
“You’re minute late,” he drawls, leaning into the couch, twirling the glass. “You’ve lost the moment I get to explain how this works to you.”
What?
What the hell can he explain in a minute?
“I don’t like to repeat myself,” he hisses. “If you so badly want to pass my course this time, you’ll do as I say.”
“I… I…” I snort. I stare at him, unable to look away.
What the f**k is going on? What the hell?
I can’t even say anything. He’s not even explaining. Am I just going to strip off my clothes and stand naked before him just like he ordered?
“You can leave if you can’t do it, but I won’t give you another chance. I value my time more,” he whispers flatly.
His nose flare and I could have missed the excitement in his tone.
He’s enjoying this. This is a game to him.
My heart squeezes, pain sitting heavily in my chest. I don’t know what to do. A part of me wants to leave, but another part, the part that’s willing to do anything to pass his course, wants to stay.
It can’t be that bad, considering I have a crush on him. It should be a win-win. But it’s wrong, if word gets out, if my course mates hear of it.
They can’t, my mind whispers. If you leave now, then it’s over.
My legs shift, and my hands reach up to my dress zipper and drag it down my chest. My hands shake. My stomach drops. My heart leaps. I feel scared and excited. Somehow, my body craves the command. I find myself wanting to submit, to obey his commands.
No.
I shouldn’t.
I’m doing this to avoid failing.
Even if I’m crushing on him, it still doesn’t make this less transactional.
I’d thought him strict and disciplined despite his coldness, but I didn’t know he was actually a devil in disguise.
His eyes don’t leave my body as I pull my dress open from the chest, my breasts spilling free. Heavy. Full. Ripe.
I hadn’t bothered with a bra, never a fan of one since my breasts are so big and round, but now, I wish I had.
His eyes ogle me, watching every moment as I drag the dress down my waist and let it fall at my feet.
I grind my teeth together as I hook my thumbs into my panties and drag them down too, stepping out of them. I ignore the heat pooling in my belly and the tightening in my core.
“Always knew you had it in you, Rose,”. he chuckles sarcastically.
My brows pull together. “Had what? I don’t…”
“You seem to have forgotten who’s in charge here,” he interrupts, voice dangerously low. “You don’t get to speak unless asked to. Just obey the commands.”
He straightens, his eyes slowly gliding over my body. “You came late, so your punishment first.”
“What…”
His eyes snap up, dark, irritated, and I slowly swallow my words.
A second passes before he speaks again. “Come here.”
I move my legs, my lips pressing firmly together. I stop just a few steps away. Now I can see him clearly.
His usual cold, unreadable eyes, devouring my nakedness.
“Closer,” he whispers.
I move forward, now standing in front of him, my legs ghosting his knees.
“Spread your legs apart. I want your right foot on the couch by my side.”
My breath seizes. My eyes widen.
He wants me, to put my p***y directly in his face?
What the hell is this devilish professor trying to do? In all my years of intimacy, I’ve never been this vulnerable.
God, what have I gotten myself into? And the craziest thing is my body hums with so much joy and excitement, eagerness to please him.
Trembling, I lift my foot and place it on the couch, positioning my other leg beside his knee.
He tilts his head, his lips curling upward, a cruel smirk gracing his mouth.
“Look at you, turned on already. Look at your p***y, glistening and oozing even in the dark.”
“I’m not…” The words die on my lips as his eyes darken.
“Touch yourself. Dig your finger into your hole and see for yourself just how filthy you are.”
It isn’t a request. It’s a motherfucking command.
My hips flare as I slide my hand over my stomach, going downward, then slipping a finger through my p***y lips.
My body tenses at the contact. My legs wobble.
Slick.
Wet.
Lush.
My walls tighten in air, slickness pooling, spreading down my thighs. He hisses low, “Filthy little thing…”
My face burns with embarrassment, guilt at being caught.
“Undo my pants and bring out my cock.”
His c**k.
It sounds like sin coming from his perfectly shaped lips.
I release a shaky breath, but I don’t say anything. I lean forward, my breasts spilling near his face, but he makes no attempt to touch. Even when I lean closer, he remains stagnant.
I reach for the leather belt, unhook it, unbutton his pants, pulling his c**k free from his boxers.
Fuck.
It’s heavy. Warm. Thick. Long.
He’s longer than my arm length.
God.
This is a devilish weapon.
My single hand can’t hold it all. He’s so f*****g huge, with tiny veins stretching along the length. The head is slick, plump, dark red. I lick my lips before I know it.
My veins run molten, every nerve ablaze with heat.
His c**k jerks in my palm, and I drop it in shock and surprise. I glance at his face, but he gives nothing away.
So far, the only reaction from him is his c**k.
My throat tightens as I stare at the thick length, standing rigid against his stomach. So f*****g hard and tempting.
“Hold it, and push your p***y down on it in one thrust. If you pause midway, you start again. That’s your punishment,” he says, voice dangerously dark.
“Huh…” Another slip.
How the hell am I supposed to fit this devilish thing inside my tight hole? He’s going to rip me in two.
My pulse ticks faster. My p***y clenches greedily.
“Don’t pretend like you’re aren’t salivating for it,” he grunts.
I snap out of my thoughts. I bend my right foot, digging my knee into the couch, then bring my other knee up too.
I stand on my knees and gently grab his c**k, bringing it close to my entrance, resting my other hand on my thigh. I close my eyes and hold my breath, slowly moving downward.
“Open your eyes,” he snaps. “I want to see what you look like when you’re not pretending to be the innocent girl.”
My eyes fly open.
My body drops heavily onto his c**k. My hand falls away from the hard length.
I stiffen. My body freezes. My eyes burn.
Too huge.
Too tight.
“Fail. You’ll have to go again,” he smirks.
Huh?
You mean all of that didn’t go in?
Despite the fullness that I feel, the stretch, the tightness, God? How much more?
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