Chapter 2- First Detention

ALEENA's Pov

The clock on my nightstand beeped six thirty, and my stomach dropped.

I had been sitting on my bed for an hour, knees pulled to my chest, trying not to think about where I was supposed to be at seven.

Mira was still out, probably still on her date, and I was grateful. I did not want to explain where I was going.

I just texted her that I would be away for a while, leaving out the main details.Then I stood up to find something to wear.

“Wear something comfortable.” Professor Lorcan's voice echoed in my head and it sent a cold shiver down my spine.

I was terrified, but the terror wasn’t the only thing making my heart beat faster than normal.

My eyes scanned my closet, then I picked out an oversized sweater dress. It was comfortable, without buttons or zippers, and it was something that could slide off easily.

I wanted to wear something else, but something made me go for the sweater dress— I pulled it over my head, putting it on.

I hated myself for obeying that voice.

I went to the mirror, arranged my ponytail, applied a little lip gloss and left for his office.

At 6:58 PM, I stood outside the penthouse office door. The area was extremely quiet, the corridor only lit by a single overhead light.

Then I knocked.

“Come in.” His voice came from behind the door.

I pushed the door open, and met him sitting by the small bar in the corner, a wine glass in his hands, his other hand resting on the edge of the counter. He was wearing a short sleeved white shirt, revealing his forearm that was covered in a geometric sleeve tattoo.The first three buttons of his shirt were undone and he didn't look like the Professor that we saw in class—he looked like something harder to walk away from.

“Close the door,” he took a sip from his glass.“And lock it.”

I locked the door and turned to face him.

The penthouse office was spacious with bookshelves at the corner, a leather armchair, and a huge floor to ceiling window behind his huge mahogany desk.

“You're punctual,” he looked up from his glass, “I'm impressed.”

“I had thoughts of not coming.” I said confidently.

“Hmmm, but you didn't.” He took another sip from his glass, watching me from the rim. “Why?”

The question hit me hard. “Because you would have reported me.”

“Really?” He set the glass down and stood up. “Maybe I should have let you do things on your own accord after the threat.” He picked up a file and flipped through it without looking at me. “Watching you run, waiting for consequences that would never come would have been another form of entertainment.” He said with a smirk.

I couldn't respond, my heartbeat was accelerating against my chest.

“But you're here now, so let's begin.” he dropped the file and looked at me, all amusement stripped away from his face, replaced by something more dangerous. “Take off your dress.”

The request landed somewhere I almost didn't expect.

“Wh—what?”

“You heard me, Miss Marsh.”

I gulped as my fingers found the hem of my dress. I thought of refusing, but my hands betrayed me and I pulled the dress over my head.

The air was cool against my bare skin—I had worn simple plain black underwear, no lace. Nothing that could be mistaken for seduction.

Professor Lorcan didn't move, his gaze moved from my face down to my toes and back up. The underwear suddenly felt like a thin barrier.

“This is interesting,” he murmured. “You have been dressing to get my attention all these while. So why are you suddenly protecting yourself after you've caught my attention?”

I didn't reply, I just kept staring at him.

“Good.” He smiled, then he reached behind him and brought out a box. “Come and have this.” He extended the box towards me.

I walked towards him, still keeping eye contact with him.

I collected the box and waited for his instructions.

“Open it.” He commanded.

I opened the box and brought out the content—it was a strapless leather top, and a short leather skirt. There was also knee high boots and a pair of strapped net stocking. My eye twitched—did he expect me to wear this?

“Exactly what you're thinking, that's what I want you to wear.”

I went to the corner of the room to put the dress on—it was even worse than my underwear.

The skirt was extremely short, barely covering my butt, and the top was so tight that my boobs threatened to spill out from it. The boots and net stocking also didn't help. 

I stood for a full minute, adjusting the skirt hem, pulling it down each time it crept up, before I accepted that it was not going to cooperate. I sighed and walked back out.

My face was flushed—I could feel the butterflies gathering low in my stomach as I felt his gaze settle on me.

“Come here, Aleena.” He said, his voice husky.

I held my breath as I walked towards him, trying to steady my already shaky legs.

“Sit.” He pointed to a chair in front of him.

I sat, the cold leather touched the back of my thighs and spread a strange sensation through my body.

Then he stood up, walked to his desk and brought out something—a black blindfold.

He held out the blindfold to me, “Put this on. Then we'll begin the real lesson.”

My hand took it. The fabric was soft. I wondered how many students had held the blindfold, or if I was the first.

I lifted it to my eyes.

“One more thing, there is a safe word.” His voice was closer now, right in front of me. “The safe word is ‘Red.’ If you say it, everything stops immediately. You put on your dress and walk out, and we'll pretend this never happened, You have my word.”

The mercy in the offer startled me more. “Why would you give me an out?”

“Because consent matters, Aleena. Especially in the dark.” 

I pressed my lips together and placed the blindfold over my eyes.

My hearing sharpened immediately I heard him move, then a soft song filled the air—I heard his footsteps approaching me now, stopping at my front then circling around the chair.

My chest heaved up and down with both excitement and suspense, not knowing where he was, and what he was going to do.

“You're beautiful like this,” he said from somewhere around my left. 

Then I felt something warm against my neck. His fingers were barely grazing the side of my throat. My breath caught in my throat and I sat still. He whispered in my ear, “You're not allowed to move your hands, Aleena. That's the thrill.”

The music was still playing, my heart beating fast.

I felt something graze my thigh lightly. I sucked in breath, fisting my hands at my sides stopping them from moving.

His hands moved now, drifting lower, settling in the hem of my skirt, using his fingers to trace circles on my thigh. I bit my lip as I forced myself from letting out a moan when I felt the heat pool in between my legs.

Then his fingers returned at my knee, drawing a slow circle against my skin. One circle after the other. My jaw tightened as I pressed my hands flat against the armrests to keep them from moving

“Your body is more honest than your mouth.” He murmured again in my ears then I let out a shaky breath.

His fingers traveled from my thigh, up to the valley of my chest and stopped at the hem of the top. He traced it slowly, the sensation sending shockwaves through my body.

Then his hand moved to my collarbone, the tips of his fingers tracing the line from one shoulder to the other. The leather top suddenly felt thinner than paper. My spine arched forward before I caught myself and forced it back.

He continued sliding his fingers all through, my whole body buzzing with pleasure.

He pulled me gently to my feet. “By the third detention, you won't even remember Xavier’s name. You won't remember why you seduced me. You'll only remember the sound of my voice, and the way your body responds to my touch.” His lips brushed my ear, barely a kiss. And yet my whole body arched towards it, a reflex I couldn’t control.

Then he stepped back, and the warmth of him disappeared entirely.

I heard him walk toward the desk and the sound of the music faded.

“The first detention is complete,” he said, his voice returning to its professorial tone. “You may remove the blindfold and dress. Same time on Wednesday, don't be late.”

By the time I pulled the blindfold from my eyes, he was seated behind his desk, attention fixed on his laptop as if I no longer existed. 

I dressed in silence, my fingers fumbling with the sweater dress hem. When I was done, I walked to his table. “Professor?”

He didn't look up. “Yes, Miss Marsh?”

“Why are you really doing this?” I said as I fiddled with the strap of my bag.

He stopped typing and lifted his gaze. “You'll find out after the third detention. Now go and rest, you'll need it.”

But I was no longer sure I needed to rest. I couldn't stop feeling the tingling on my skin where he'd touched me, or the terrifying truth I discovered.

I didn't want it to end.