I want you on your knees, Good Girl.

A Slut For My Professor (5)

I kiss his cock slowly, before letting it slip between my lips. I take him into my mouth, sucking gently, teasing him awake with the warm wetness of my tongue. 

“Mmm… that’s a nice way to wake up,” he murmurs, still half-asleep but smirking.

I hum around him, the vibration making him twitch. I bob my head deeper, savoring the weight of him on my tongue. My hands slide along his thighs while my lips move with more purpose. When he’s fully hard, I draw back slightly, then trail my tongue down to his balls, wetting them slowly as I stroke his shaft.

His hand finds my hair, fingers curling gently at first, then tighter. I moan softly, my body melting into the contact. I shift my weight, straddling one of his thick thighs, my pussy already aching and wet from being this close to him.

He groans, his hips bucking as he nears the edge. I respond by wrapping my lips around him tighter, taking him deeper. His release comes in a hot wave, spilling into my mouth. I swallow eagerly, but some escapes, running down his cock and onto his balls. I lick him clean, slow and intentional, keeping eye contact the entire time.

Cassian reaches for me and pulls me up, crashing his lips against mine, tasting himself on my tongue.

“Good girl,” he whispers against my mouth before giving my ass a sharp pinch. I squeak in surprise, but he just grins.

“Let’s get cleaned up. We have a lot to talk about,” he says, lifting me in his arms like I weigh nothing.

He carries me to a luxurious bathroom, the space bathed in soft lighting. There’s a glass-enclosed shower in the center, modern and massive. He adjusts the controls until the water is steaming and then pulls me in with him.

Under the spray, he begins to lather me with soaps that smell like exotic orchids. The steam thickens around us, making it hard to see, but I feel everything. I feel his fingers gliding over my skin, the way he massages my back with expert precision.

“You’re beautiful everywhere, Kristen,” he murmurs, kneeling to wash my legs, my feet, every part of me with care.

I’ve never felt this seen. This adored. His hands slide upward, teasing the inside of my thighs until he reaches my center. He flicks my clit once—just once—but it’s enough to make me gasp.

And then… nothing.

Tease.

When the shower ends, he dries me with slow, gentle strokes, wrapping me in his warmth more than the towel. He smells divine—clean, masculine, dangerous.

He tosses the towel aside and leads me to the bedroom. He pulls on an ash-gray shirt and matching pajama pants. I glance around for my clothes and laugh softly when I realize they’re probably still scattered down the hall.

“You’re not wearing anything,” he says without looking back.

God, yes. I don’t want to.

We step into the hallway, his large palm resting possessively on my ass. He leads me to the sitting room and takes a seat on the rosewood sofa. I move to sit across from him, but he pats his thigh with a smirk.

“Here, Ms. Kristen.”

I climb onto his lap, straddling him. My bare skin brushes against the soft cotton of his pants, and I can already feel how damp they’re getting from me.

“So,” he begins, his fingers tracing lazy circles on my thigh, “why did you join the forum?”

“I… I wanted to be a part of your world,” I admit quietly.

“And what do you think that world is?”

“I know it’s about dominance. About… submission. About pain and pleasure,” I say, feeling my cheeks warm.

He chuckles. “BDSM, Kristen. Bondage. Dominance. Sadism. Masochism.”

He says it so casually, like he’s lecturing. The professor in him bleeding through.

“What do you like?” he asks, his eyes burning into mine.

I swallow hard. “I like it when you… when you command me, Cassian.”

He leans in slightly, voice low. “So, you’re a submissive. You crave control being taken from you.”

I nod. God, yes.

“Do you like being hit?”

I look down, my body already responding. “Yes, Cassian.”

“Do you enjoy being humiliated, Ms. Kristen?” he asks as his fingers roll over my nipples.

“I… I don’t know,” I whisper, but I’m already soaked.

He slides a finger down to my pussy, finds me drenched, and smiles knowingly.

“Would you like to be my slave, Kristen?” His finger circles inside me, slow and purposeful.

“Yes… yes, please,” I moan, hips grinding on his hand.

“In a scene, I will use you. I’ll hit you, push you, challenge you. Are you ready for that?” His voice is firm now, the authority unmistakable.

“Yes, Professor.”

“You’ll obey everything I command, without hesitation.” He tweaks my nipple hard, and I yelp.

“Yes, Professor.”

“Are we in a scene now?” he growls.

“Yes,” I breathe. “Yes, we are.”

He withdraws his finger and stands, stripping fully.

“Let’s go to the dungeon, kitten.”

Kitten. The word slices through me like a drug. He’s named me. I belong to him.

He grips my hair and leads me down a staircase. The slight sting at my scalp makes me moan softly. It’s the perfect kind of pain.

At the bottom, he flicks on the lights, and I gasp.

The room is expansive, glowing with soft light. A king-sized bed anchors one end. Stands filled with unfamiliar tools surround the space. A shelf of ropes, cuffs, and leather restraints gleam to the right. My skin tingles.

“What do you think, kitten?” he asks, proud.

“I love it, Professor,” I purr.

He leads me to the bed and gives me a quick, delicious spank.

“On all fours,” he orders.

I obey instantly, turning around and presenting myself, face flushed with arousal.

“Do you know why you’re in this position?”

“Because I’m your kitten, Professor.”

He chuckles. “Good girl.”

“And what does my kitten want?”

“I want to belong to you, Cassian. I want the pain, the pleasure, the humiliation. I want you to own me.”

He drags the chair forward and sits with one leg crossed, staring at me with a dangerous smirk.

“Turn around,” he commands.