Ruin Me, Professor! (1)

 • CHARLIE'S POV •

I wanted to get fucked by my new professor.

I hadn’t even met him yet, but that hadn’t stopped me from spending two straight hours stalking him online after supposedly looking him up to see who’d be teaching my Econ 101 class.

One picture of him in beach shorts was all it took. By the time I put my phone down, I’d already jerked off twice and was still thinking about those muscular hands all over me.

I eventually passed out exhausted, my head full of thoughts about what it would feel like to have his lips around my cock.

••

It was 9:58 a.m., and I was tearing down the hallway, my boxers riding up my ass. I was going to be late, but I didn’t give a shit. I had only two things on my mind: get Professor Eric to notice me and get him to fuck me before the semester was over.

I shoved through the double doors just as he was speaking.

And holy shit. He stopped mid-sentence, and my mouth instantly went dry.

None of those pictures had prepared me for Professor Eric Millan in person. He was even hotter up close, with sharp blue eyes behind wire-frame glasses and a white shirt stretched across a massive chest and tattooed forearms.

Then I noticed the gold ring on his left hand.

Married. And somehow, knowing I couldn’t have him only made the heat in my stomach twist tighter.

Our eyes locked.

His gaze swept over me before settling on my face again, and my brain simply stopped working. He cleared his throat, adjusted his glasses, and continued his lecture.

I hurried toward an empty seat, trying my best to look like a normal freshman who had simply shown up late to class.

Yeah, that wasn’t happening.

Three rows from the front, I dropped into my seat and stared at the man I’d spent half the night fantasizing about. And suddenly, it hit me. I was completely fucked. 

Goal one: get his attention. Check. ✓

Now I just had to get into his pants.

••

For the next two weeks, nothing happened.

It was pure torture. I sat where I could watch him without making it obvious, memorizing every flex of his forearms and every time he pushed his glasses up his nose.

Eventually, I gave up on ever sharing a bed with him. I told myself he probably wasn’t going to look at me twice.

Then I got my first assignment back.

A-minus.

I stared at the grade with displeasure. 

I’d worked my ass off on that paper and I deserved to get a better grade, but maybe I was just looking for an excuse to talk to Professor Eric. Either way, I checked his office hours.

He was free on Thursday afternoon, but when I got there, his office was locked and the lights were off. A handwritten note was taped to the glass.

“In the main lecture hall, cleaning up. E.M.”

My heart did a stupid little flip as I headed straight for the auditorium. It was almost dark when I pushed the door open.

There he was, alone at the front of the empty room, sleeves rolled high and the top two buttons of his shirt undone. He gathered handouts from the table, his muscles shifting beneath his shirt every time he reached.

Then he bent to pick up a dropped pen, and my eyes went straight to his ass.

I froze in the doorway, as he looked up at me. 

“Charlie,” he called out. Hearing my name in that deep, steady voice sent a shiver down my spine. “Office hours are in my office.”

“I… saw the note.” I cleared my throat. “I got my paper back. I thought maybe we could talk about it?”

He studied me for a long moment, his expression unreadable, then set the stack of papers down.

“Come in,” he said quietly. “Close the door.”

I did.

The heavy click of the latch echoed through the empty hall.

He walked toward me slowly. As he got closer, I caught the clean, expensive scent of his cologne, and my knees immediately went a little weak.

“You think you deserved higher than an A-minus?”

His tone was calm, almost gentle, but there was an edge underneath it.

I nodded, biting my lip. “I worked really hard on this assignment, Professor Millan.”

“Eric,” he corrected.

He was only a couple of feet away now, close enough that I had to tilt my head back to meet his eyes.

“Call me Eric,” he said. “We’re the only ones here.”

My breath caught.

“Eric.”

He reached for me slowly, giving me every chance to pull away, and brushed a loose strand of hair from my forehead. His fingers lingered against my cheek.

“You’re distracting,” he murmured. “You know that, don’t you?”

I swallowed hard.

“I… I didn’t mean to be.”

His thumb traced the edge of my jaw.

“Liar.”

He stepped closer, his body heat surrounding me.

“Tell me why you actually came here, Charlie,” he said, his voice roughening. “And don’t lie to me again.”

My heart hammered as I looked up at him, my cheeks burning.

“I wanted to see you,” I whispered. “I can’t stop thinking about you.”

A muscle ticked in his jaw.His hand slid down until his palm rested against my neck, his thumb pressing lightly against my pulse.

“Damn it,” he breathed, almost to himself.

Then he leaned in, his lips hovering close to mine, close enough for me to feel his breath.

“Last chance to leave, pretty boy,” he said quietly. “Walk out that door right now, and we pretend this never happened.”

My hands were shaking. I stayed exactly where I was.

Instead, I rose onto my toes, pressed myself against his chest, and whispered against his lips, “I’m all yours, Eric. Put me on my knees, tie me down, ruin me. Do whatever the fuck you want to me.”

A low grunt caught in his throat. His mouth crashed into mine before I could finish, stealing the breath right out of me. His lips were firm and demanding, tasting faintly of coffee and mint. 

“Fuckkk…” The word came out shaky, like he was fighting to keep control.

His hands closed around my waist, pulling me against him. I gasped into the kiss, clutching his shoulders as his grip tightened. 

He broke away, forehead dropping against mine. “Mmm… you’re playing with fire.”

His eyes squeezed shut for a moment before his mouth found mine again.

This kiss was hungrier. His tongue brushed mine as one hand tangled in my hair, and I kissed him harder, refusing to let the moment end.

Then he pulled back just a fraction.

“Charlie…” he rasped. “Goddammit. I have a fucking wife!”