6: PROFESSOR’S FILTHY PET (2)

CHAPTER 2: COCK LESSONS

EMILY’S POV

I tried. I tried. But he was so big, stretching me open inch by inch, the burn of it making my vision blur.

My nails scored the wood as I panted, my body trembling with the effort of taking him.

"Good girl," he groaned, his hips finally flush against my ass. He stayed like that for a long moment, letting me adjust, his breath rough against my neck. Then, suddenly, his hand came down on my ass again, the sting quaking through me. "That’s one."

"One—?" My voice was thin, strained.

"One error in your thesis." He pulled back, then thrust forward, the movement rough, possessive. "Page seven. Split infinitive."

I whimpered as he set a brutal pace, each snap of his hips punctuated by another critique.

"Passive voice—page twelve." Slap. "Weak thesis statement—page twenty-three." Slap. His hand printed my skin red, the pain and pleasure twisting together until I couldn’t tell them apart.

"You—ah!—you hate it," I gasped, my fingers clawing at the desk.

He leaned down, his lips brushing my ear.

"No, Emily." His cock hit something deep inside me, and my back bowed. "You hate it. Because you know I’m right."

I came with a sob, my body clenching around him, milking his cock as he fucked me through it. He didn’t stop. Didn’t even slow down.

His hand tangled in my hair, yanking my head back as he pounded into me, his other hand gripping my hip hard enough to bruise.

"That’s it," he growled, his voice rough with effort. "Take it. Take my cock like a good little student."

The words sent another wave of pleasure crashing through me, my orgasm drawing out, endless.

I was nothing but sensation—his cock filling me, his breath hot on my skin, the sharp sting of his hand on my ass. I was his. Completely, utterly his.

He came with a groan, his hips stuttering as he spilled inside me, his cum hot and thick. For a long moment, the only sound in the room was our ragged breathing. Then...

"Clean yourself up." His voice was back to that cool, professorial tone, like he hadn’t just fucked me senseless over his desk. "And bring me a revised draft on Monday. I expect improvement."

I nodded dumbly, my body still trembling. He pulled out slowly, and I bit back a whimper at the loss. The wet sound of his cum dripping out of me was filthy in the quiet office.

As I stumbled to my feet, my legs barely holding me, he reached into his desk and tossed a tissue box onto the desk. "And Emily?"

I paused, looking back at him. His cock was still half-hard, glistening with me, his shirt rumpled, his hair tousled from where I’d gripped it. He looked ruined. Like I had ruined him.

He smirked. "Wear the skirt again."

Monday’s draft was better.

Not because I’d suddenly become a genius, but because every time I sat down to write, I could feel him—the phantom press of his hands on my skin, the weight of his cock inside me, the sting of his criticism imprinted on my skin.

I wrote with my thighs clenched, my panties damp, my mind half on my argument and half on the way his voice had sounded when he called me good girl.

I turned it in at exactly 4:57 PM, three minutes before his office hours ended. He took it from me without a word, his fingers brushing mine just long enough to send a shiver down my spine.

"Close the door," he said.

I obeyed.

This time, he didn’t make me wait. The moment the lock clicked, he was on me, backing me up against the door, his mouth crashing down on mine.

His kiss was filthy—tongue sweeping in, tasting me, claiming me. I moaned into him, my hands flying to his hair, my body already aching for more.

"Not a word," he growled against my lips, his hands sliding up my thighs, bunching my skirt around my waist. "You don’t speak unless I tell you to. Understood?"

I nodded frantically.

"Good." His fingers hooked into my panties and ripped. The sound of fabric tearing made me gasp. "You won’t be needing these."

He dropped to his knees.

The first lick of his tongue nearly sent me to mine. He wasn’t gentle. He ate—like a man starving, his mouth sealing over my pussy, his tongue spearing inside me.

My head thudded back against the door, my fingers tangling in his hair as I rode his face, my hips moving in desperate little circles.

"Fuck, you taste like a good grade," he groaned, his breath hot against my wet flesh. His fingers dug into my ass, holding me still as he devoured me, his tongue flicking over my clit in quick, relentless strokes. "Sweet. Obedient."

I came with a wild cry, my body shuddering, my legs threatening to give out. He didn’t let me.

His arms banded around my thighs, keeping me upright as he lapped at me, drawing out every last tremor.

When he finally stood, his mouth was glossy with me, his eyes dark with hunger.

"On your knees," he ordered, his voice rough.

I sank down without hesitation, my hands going to his belt. He watched me, his gaze burning, as I freed his cock. It was already hard, thick and veiny, the head flushed dark with blood. I licked my lips.

"Open," he commanded.

I did.

He fed his cock into my mouth, his hand tangling in my hair, guiding me.

"That’s it. Take it. Show me how thankful you are for my lessons."

I hollowed my cheeks, my tongue swirling around the head as I took him deeper. He tasted like salt and man, the heaviness of him on my tongue making my pussy clench with need.

My fingers dug into his thighs as I bobbed my head, taking him as deep as I could, my throat relaxing around him.

"Fuck, yes," he hissed, his hips rocking forward, fucking my mouth in shallow thrusts. "Just like that. Such a good girl for your professor."

I moaned around him, the vibration making him groan. His grip on my hair tightened, his pace growing more insistent.

"I’m going to come down your throat, Emily. And you’re going to swallow every drop."

I nodded as best I could, my eyes watering as he hit the back of my throat. Then...

"Ah, fuck—"

His cock pulsed, his cum spilling over my tongue in thick, hot ropes. I swallowed around him, my throat working, taking everything he gave me.

When he finally pulled out, I licked my lips, savoring the taste of him.

"Perfect," he murmured, his thumb brushing over my bottom lip. "Absolutely perfect."

He helped me to my feet, his hands gentle now, almost tender. Then he reached into his desk and pulled out a slim volume—The Professor’s Pet.

The cover showed a woman on her knees, her hands clasped behind her back, her mouth open in silent offering.

"Your next assignment," he said, pressing it into my hands. "Read the first chapter. Aloud."

My stomach flipped. "Here?"

His smile was slow. Dangerous. "Where else?"

I opened the book with trembling fingers. The first line made my face burn: "She knelt before him, her body aching with the need to please..."

"Read," he commanded, settling back into his chair, his cock already stirring again as he watched me.

I took a deep breath. And I obeyed.