The Professor - 3

CHAPTER 3

LUCIEN

She panted, going limp against me.

She was still on my lap, trembling, soaked, limp against my chest. My cock throbbed inside her, still hard, still hungry. I wasn’t done.

Not even close.

I gripped her hips tighter, dragged her up, and she gasped as I slid out of her. Her body clenched like she didn’t want to let me go.

“Lucien—” she panted.

“Shut up.”

I stood up. Flipped her over the desk again. Face down. Ass up.

“Hands flat,” I ordered. “Don’t move.”

She obeyed instantly, chest pressed to the cold wood, arms trembling.

I lined myself up and shoved back in.

Hard.

She screamed.

“Lucien—god—”

I grabbed her hair, pulled her head up as I drove into her over and over.

“Too much?” I hissed.

“No! Don’t stop!”

“Good girl.”

The sound of my hips slapping her echoed through the office. Her moans were broken, shaky, louder each time I sank deep. Sweat dripped from both of us. Her body shook. Mine ached with restraint.

“You were made for this,” I growled. “Made for me.”

“Yes—yes—I am—”

She started to come again. I could feel it—her body tightening, pulsing around me.

I grunted, shoved deeper, my pace brutal now. The desk creaked beneath her.

Then—

Knock.

One sharp knock on the door.

She froze.

I didn’t.

I kept fucking her.

“Lucien,” she whispered. “Someone—”

“I don’t care.”

Another knock.

“Sir?” A voice called faintly. “Are you available?”

I grunted louder, slamming into her so hard she cried out.

“Lucien—fuck—”

“Keep quiet,” I hissed. “You don’t make a sound.”

Another knock. “Professor Vale?”

I pulled out fast.

“Get your clothes,” I snapped. “All of them. Now.”

She scrambled up, flushed, breathless, hair ruined, lips swollen. She reached for her panties, dress, everything in a pile.

“And hide under the desk.”

“What?” she gasped.

I grabbed her arm, dragged her under.

“Go. Now.”

She slid under the desk, still half-naked, holding her clothes to her chest. Her mouth was parted like she wanted to say something, but I held a finger to my lips.

“Not. A. Sound.”

Then I turned, tucked myself back into my pants without buttoning, barely zipped up.

Another knock.

“Come in,” I called, clearing my throat.

The door creaked open.

A male student peeked in. “Sorry, Professor. I just had a quick question about—uh…”

He paused.

I forced a casual smile, leaning on my desk. My whole body still buzzing with heat, sweat sticking to my shirt.

“Yes?”

The student blinked. “You—uh—you okay?”

“I’m fine. Bit of a migraine.” I lied smoothly. “What’s your question?”

Beneath the desk, I felt her fingers slide along my thigh.

I nearly groaned.

She was teasing me.

That little brat.

Her hand slipped higher. Her breath was warm against my leg.

I kept a straight face.

The student cleared his throat. “Uh, the grading rubric for the final project—I wasn’t sure if about a couple of things, I emailed you yesterday, but you haven't replied to the email yet and—”

I felt her lips press against my zipper.

Fuck.

I gritted my teeth.

“Submit the draft by Friday,” I said quickly. “I’ll give you feedback over the weekend.”

Her fingers slid inside my pants.

She was going to kill me.

“Thanks, Professor,” the student said, slowly backing toward the door. “Hope you feel better.”

“Thanks.”

The door closed.

The second it clicked shut, I exhaled sharply. Fucking he'll.

“Out,” I growled.

She crawled out from under the desk, eyes sparkling with wicked satisfaction.

“You were so close to losing it,” she whispered, grinning.

“You think this is funny?”

She giggled.

I grabbed her by the waist and threw her back onto the desk.

“Lucien!” she squealed.

I yanked her dress out of her hands, dropped it on the floor.

“I told you,” I said darkly. “You’re mine until I say you’re not.”

She moaned. “Then use me again.”

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” I muttered, unzipping again. “I plan to.”

Her back hit the desk with a soft thud. She didn’t even flinch. She just looked up at me with those wide, hungry eyes, lips swollen, body bare and slick with sweat.

 “Open your legs. Now.”

She obeyed instantly, spreading herself for me like she was desperate.

I dragged my eyes over her. Soaking wet. Shaking. My desk looked like a crime scene.

“Say it,” I said, lining myself up.

“Say what?”

“Say you want me to fuck you again.”

“I want you to fuck me again,” she moaned.

“Louder.”

“I want you to fuck me again, Lucien. Please.”

That was all I needed.

I slammed into her with one hard thrust. Her body jolted, head thrown back, mouth falling open in a silent scream.

“Fuck—”

She clung to the desk, knuckles white. I held her hips, dragging her toward me with every thrust. It was rough, filthy, loud. Her legs wrapped around my waist as she took it, all of it, over and over.

“You’re not allowed to look this good,” I grunted.

“You feel so good—Lucien—harder—please!”

“You want it harder?”

“Yes—”

I grabbed her throat, not tight, just enough. “Beg for it.”

“Please! Use me, Lucien! Don’t stop—don’t ever stop—”

I growled low, slamming deeper. “You’re going to make me come inside you.”

“Yes!” she cried out. “Do it—fill me—please—I want it.”

“You want me to come in you?”

“I want it all. Every drop. I want you to ruin me.”

I was losing it.

My hips moved faster, sloppier. Her moans were endless. Her nails raked down my back. Her walls clenched around me, milking me, dragging me to the edge.

“Fuck—fuck—I’m coming—”

“Yes, Lucien—please—inside me—”

My body tensed. I slammed one last time and groaned, loud, spilling deep inside her as she cried out my name.

We both trembled.

I stayed inside her, heart pounding, breath ragged.

She whimpered, still clenching, still shaking.

“Lucien...” she whispered.

I leaned down and kissed her mouth, hard.

“You feel so good,” I breathed against her lips.

She nodded, dazed. “I know.”