Chapter 4:Ruin Me, Professor

Zoe’s heart wouldn’t slow down. That look on Marcus’s face — dark, hungry, completely undone — was going to ruin her. She sat there, thighs still shaky from his fingers, pulse hammering between her legs, and knew they’d already gone too far to pretend anymore.

He stood first. Slow. Like he was giving her one last chance to run.

His hand reached out. Palm up. Steady, but she saw the slight tremble in his fingers.

She took it.

The second their palms touched, skin on skin, something broke. Heat shot up her arm, straight to her chest, and she was on her feet before she could think. He pulled her in, not rough, but sure. Close enough that her breasts pressed against his chest. Close enough to feel how hard he was through his pants.

“Zoe,” he said, voice wrecked. “Last chance. Tell me to stop.”

“I can’t.” The words came out small. Desperate. “I don’t want to.”

“Fuck.” He exhaled it like a prayer and a curse at the same time.

He kissed her.

Not soft. Not careful. Deep and deliberate, like he was editing every doubt out of her mouth. His tongue slid against hers and she moaned into it, hands fisting his shirt. He tasted like coffee and restraint finally snapping. One of his hands cupped the back of her neck, holding her there while the other gripped her hip, pulling her tighter against him.

She felt dizzy. Overwhelmed. *What the hell am I doing? This is my professor. This is insane.* But her body didn’t care. It arched into him, craving more.

Marcus walked her backward until her ass hit the desk. He lifted her onto it without breaking the kiss, stepping between her legs. The skirt rode all the way up. She didn’t care. His hands were on her thighs now, spreading them wider, thumbs digging in just enough to make her whimper.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,” he muttered against her mouth. “Sitting in that chair, reading your words, getting hard thinking about how you’d sound when you finally let go.”

Zoe’s breath hitched. Shame and heat twisted together in her stomach. She reached for his belt, clumsy with need. “Then stop talking and show me.”

He made a low sound — half laugh, half groan — and helped her, shoving his pants down just enough. His cock sprang free, thick and flushed and leaking at the tip. She wrapped her hand around him and stroked once. He cursed, forehead dropping to hers.

Then he was dropping to his knees.

No warning. Just his hands pushing her thighs apart and his mouth on her. Hot. Wet. Hungry. He licked a slow stripe up her soaked pussy and she cried out, hand flying to his hair.

“Marcus— oh god—”

He didn’t tease. He devoured. Sucking her clit into his mouth, tongue working her like he’d been starving for it. Two fingers pushed back inside her, curling hard, fucking her while he sucked. The wet sounds filled the quiet office. Messy. Filthy. Perfect.

“You’re dripping down my hand again,” he growled against her. “So fucking greedy for me. Come on, Zoe. Let me taste it.”

She came hard, thighs clamping around his head, hips grinding against his face. The orgasm ripped through her, messy and loud, her whole body shaking as she moaned his name like a broken record. He didn’t stop. Kept licking her through it until she was twitching, oversensitive, pushing weakly at his shoulders.

“Too much— Marcus, please—”

He stood up, lips shiny with her, eyes wild. Kissed her again so she could taste herself on his tongue. Then he pulled back just enough to look at her.

“On your knees.”

She slid off the desk, legs shaky, and dropped. The carpet was rough under her knees but she didn’t care. She took him in her mouth, eager, desperate to give him even a fraction of what he’d just given her. He groaned deep, hand gentle in her hair as she sucked him, hollowing her cheeks, taking him deeper.

“Fuck, your mouth— just like that. You look so good like this. Taking me after I made you come all over my tongue.”

She moaned around him, the vibration making his hips jerk. Saliva dripped down her chin. Her eyes watered but she didn’t stop, bobbing faster, one hand stroking what she couldn’t take. He was losing it — she could tell by the way his grip tightened, the broken curses falling from his mouth.

He pulled her off suddenly, breathing hard. “Not yet. Not like this.”

He lifted her back onto the desk, shoved papers aside, and pushed inside her in one slow, deep thrust.

Zoe’s head fell back. The stretch burned so good she saw stars. “Yes— fuck, you’re so deep—”

Marcus started moving. Controlled at first, precise like his red ink, but getting rougher with every thrust. The desk creaked under them. He watched her face the whole time, eyes locked on hers.

“Look at me,” he demanded when her eyes fluttered shut. “Want to see you when you fall apart again.”

He fucked her harder. One hand between them, thumb on her clit. She came a second time, clenching around his cock, nails digging into his shoulders, moaning his name loud enough she worried someone might hear. He didn’t stop. Just kept driving into her, chasing her pleasure like it was his own.

“Again,” he growled. “One more. I want to feel you come while I’m inside you.”

He pulled out, spun her around, bent her over the desk. Entered her from behind, deeper this time. His hand reached around to rub her clit while he pounded into her. She was sobbing with it now — too much, not enough, everything.

“Marcus— I can’t— fuck, I’m—”

“You can. Come for me, baby. Let go.”

She shattered. Third orgasm crashing through her so hard her knees buckled. He held her up, fucking her through it, groaning at how tight she got around him.

Then he slowed. Pulled out and sat in his office chair, dragging her onto his lap. She straddled him, sinking down onto his cock again, taking him to the hilt.

“Ride me,” he said, voice rough. Hands on her hips, guiding her. “Want to watch you take what you need.”

Zoe moved. Slow at first, then faster, grinding down on him. His hands were everywhere — squeezing her ass, sliding up to pinch her nipples through the silk, pulling her down harder. He watched her face like he was memorizing every gasp, every flutter of her eyelids.

“You’re so fucking beautiful like this,” he panted. “Falling apart on my cock. Been thinking about this for months. Every time you looked at me in class.”

She leaned in, kissing him messy and desperate. “Come inside me. Please. I want to feel it.”

That broke him. His control snapped. He thrust up hard, meeting her movements, fucking her deep in the chair. One hand between them again, rubbing her clit until she came a fourth time, shaking and crying out against his neck.

Only then did he let go. Burying himself deep, groaning her name as he came, pulsing inside her. Long, shuddering thrusts until he was spent.

They stayed like that. Tangled. Breathing hard. Sweaty. Messy.

Marcus’s arms wrapped around her, holding her close. His face pressed into her neck. She could feel his heart hammering against hers.

“Jesus Christ,” he whispered after a minute. “Zoe…”

She laughed softly. Weak. Exhausted. But happy in a way that scared her. She reached over to the desk, still impaled on him, and grabbed the thesis. Flipped to that page.

Found the margin note.

“You’re better than this sentence,” she read aloud, voice hoarse.

Marcus kissed her shoulder, slow and tender. “You are.”

She melted against him. They didn’t move to clean up. Just stayed there, tangled together. Eventually he stood, still holding her, and carried her to the small sofa against the wall. They collapsed onto it in a heap of limbs. Her head on his chest. His hand stroking her back under the blouse.

She fell asleep like that. Wrapped in him. The weight of what they’d done settling warm and terrifying in her chest.

Marcus stayed awake longer, listening to her breathe, fingers tracing lazy patterns on her skin. For the first time in years, his mind felt quiet. Open.

He didn’t correct it.