Chapter 3: The Morning After

Mia's POV

He looked at me for a moment after I said it, his expression completely unreadable, and then he just leaned back slightly and let out a slow breath through his nose.

"Okay," he said simply, and started to pull back.

Something about how unbothered he was hit me harder than it should have. He was not angry, not pushing, not even disappointed. I do not know why that bothered me but it did because I had not come all this way, snuck out of my dorm, climbed a fence in heels, and sat in this room just to go back empty handed.

My mother's face flashed in my mind. The hospital bed and te number on the bill.

I ...

I reached out and grabbed his arm before I could talk myself out of it and he stopped, looked down at my hand, then back at my face with one brow slightly raised.

I did not wait for him to say anything. I leaned up and kissed him first.

He was still for half a second and then he kissed me back, his hand coming up to grip my jaw, tilting my head exactly where he wanted it.

His hands found the hem of my dress and I lifted my arms and let him pull it over my head. I moved to cover myself but he caught both my wrists and held them apart, his eyes moving over me slowly.

"Don't," he said, his voice dropping lower, "every single inch of you stays where I can see it."

The way he looked at me made heat crawl up my neck but I kept still and let him look.

He unclasped my bra and it fell away and he cupped me in both hands, squeezing slowly, his thumbs brushing circles over my hardened nipples until I bit my lip against the sound trying to come out.

He noticed immediately.

"You do not have to do that," he murmured, his mouth dropping to my collarbone and moving lower, "I want every sound you have got."

His mouth closed over my nipple and I stopped trying to be quiet entirely.

He walked me back to the bed and laid me down and stood over me and I could see everything and feel my heart pounding somewhere in my throat because he was all sharp lines and controlled power and he was looking at me with so much possession.

He kissed down my stomach, his hands sliding my underwear down my legs, and then his mouth was on my inner thigh, moving closer, and I was already gripping the sheets.

"Fuck," I breathed, and then stopped because I did not actually know his name, I had just pulled something out of the air.

He paused and looked up at me.

"Damien Cross," he said, holding my gaze, and then his mouth was on my clit and every thought I had evaporated completely.

 His hands pinning my hips down when I tried to move, keeping me exactly where he wanted me, and the sounds coming out of me were beyond embarrassing but I had completely lost the ability to care and when I finally felt myself tipping over the edge he pulled back and I nearly cried.

"Not yet," he said against my skin, pressing one last kiss there before moving back up my body, his weight settling over mine, and I could feel him hard against me and I was way past thinking clearly.

He looked at me once, his gray eyes steady on mine.

"Say it again," he said.

"What?"

"My name."

"Damien," I whispered.

He lifted my legs and pressed them apart, his eyes never leaving mine, and when his fingers pressed into me, I saw stars.

He started slow, one finger tracing and exploring, and I was already so sensitive that my whole body jerked at the first touch and he held my hip down firmly with his free hand, keeping me still.

"Stay," he said quietly, like I was something he was training.

A second finger joined the first and I grabbed the sheets and held on, my back arching off the bed, soft broken sounds falling out of me that I had no control over, and he watched my face the entire time like my reactions were the most interesting thing he had ever seen.

When I was trembling and completely undone he stopped, and I nearly begged.

"Please.."

"I know," he said, and moved over me.

"Breathe," he said.

I breathed. Then he lifted my both legs in one swift and only with one hand. He set them above me and positioned his cock at my entrance, with one go he pushed into me and I moaned loud. He was so big and I could feel it inside me.

He started to move and I lost every coherent thought I had ever owned. He went all in withhis hands gripping my hips and he was pulling me into each stroke, and I wrapped around him and met him and the room filled with the sounds of us.

"Look at me," he said when my eyes fell shut.

I opened them and held his gaze and it was almost unbearable, the combination of that and everything else, and when I finally broke apart I cried out his name and he pounded me deeper andharder, drawing every last shudder out of me before he followed with a low groan and we both collapsed on the bed.

We stayed still for a long moment, both wrecked, and then he pulled back and reached for his clothes without a word.

When I opened my eyes the room was still dim but when I reached out for my phone it was already dawn.

He was gone when I looked at my side and the whole place was empty.

I sat up, pushed my hair back, and told myself that was fine because it was supposed to be that way. 

I found my dress on the floor, pulled it back on, and was out the door in under three minutes.

The back gate of the dorm was slightly open when I got there, just enough to slip through, and I knew Lila had done that because she always thought of everything even when I did not ask her to. I eased it shut behind me and crossed the courtyard quickly, keeping close to the wall until I was inside.

She was sitting on her bed when I pushed open our room door, fully dressed, scrolling her phone like she had been awake for a while, and she looked up the second I walked in.

"So?" she said, sitting up straight.

"Get dressed," I said, going straight to my wardrobe, "we have class in an hour."

"Mia." She said disappointed.

"Lila, I am serious, let's just go."

She opened her mouth, closed it, and then looked at my face for a long second before nodding slowly and picking up her jacket without another word. That was the thing about Lila, she always knew when to push and when to let it go.

We were barely in our seats when the whispering started.

"Apparently the new professor for Contemporary Lit is some kind of big deal," the girl in front of us was saying to her friend, leaning in like it was classified information, "like published, well connected, the whole thing."

Lila leaned over to me. 

"A hot professor would make this semester significantly more bearable."

I smiled despite myself and looked down at my notebook and that was when the door opened.

I heard Lila go quiet first.

Then I looked up.

He was standing at the front of the room in a dark fitted shirt and trousers, setting his things down on the desk like he belonged there, which apparently he did, and every single thought in my head just stopped working.

It was him.

The same jaw, the same hands, the same eyes. Everything, and he was standing fifteen feet away from me in my university classroom about to teach my class.

A sound came out of my mouth before I could stop it, something between a gasp and a word that never finished forming, and his eyes lifted from the desk and moved across the room and found me like he already knew exactly where I was sitting. Our eyes met for about a second and I froze.