CROSSED THE LINE part 2

SOPHIE’S POV

I couldn’t focus the next day. My notebook was open, pen in hand, but the only thing I wrote was his drawer. Those toys. The straps. The vibrator. All locked away, waiting for someone brave—or stupid—enough to ask for them.

Me.

Professor Hale’s voice was deep, steady, cutting through the lecture like a blade, but all I heard was the way he’d told me: Tomorrow, you’ll come back.

By the time the class ended, my legs felt weak. Students shuffled out, laughter echoing in the hall. I stayed in my seat, waiting. My heart thumped like it wanted to crack my ribs.

And then—

I walked to his office, shut the door behind me

When I turned, he was leaning against his desk, arms crossed, those dark eyes pinning me in place.

“You came back,” he said.

I swallowed hard. “You told me to.”

“No.” His head tilted slightly, the faintest curl tugging his lips. “I told you to come back knowing what you were asking for. So, Sophie…” His gaze dropped over me, lingering at my chest, my thighs. “Do you?”

My throat closed. Every nerve screamed at me to run, but every part of me that had fantasized about this moment—every wicked part—screamed louder to stay.

“Yes.”

“Say it.”

“I… I want you.” My voice shook. “I want… everything.”

The air between us grew thick, dangerous.

The drawer slid open again, deliberate this time. My heart stopped when he reached inside, his fingers brushing over restraints, a paddle, and a sleek silver vibrator that caught the office light.

He set them on the desk beside my bare thigh, each object like a threat.

“You see these?” he asked, voice low, dangerous.

I nodded, unable to look away.

“They’re not for decoration. They’re for sluts like you.”

“Once I start,” he said, stepping toward me, his jaw tight, “I don’t stop until I’ve taken everything.”

Before I could even process what he was doing, his hand snapped my knees apart, forcing my legs wide. The sharp edge of the desk bit into the backs of my thighs, a cruel reminder of where I was—his office, not some secret hideaway. My chest heaved as his shadow loomed lower, and then suddenly—heat.

His mouth was there, devouring me without warning, his tongue dragging roughly across my folds. Not gentle, not testing. Punishing.

“Ah—oh God—” I gasped, my fingers clawing for grip on the polished desk.

He didn’t care for softness or savoring—this wasn’t affection. He attacked me like I was something to be consumed, his mouth working me over with raw hunger, tongue flicking sharp and fast over my clit, then retreating just to deliver a brutal slap across my wetness with the flat of his palm. The wet, smacking sound filled the room, humiliating and obscene.

I jolted, the sting mixing with heat, my breath catching in a ragged cry.

“Stay open,” he growled against me, the vibration of his voice sending a shiver straight through my core.

Two fingers shoved inside me, rough, no preparation, stretching me fast. My back arched off the desk in shock, but his other hand was already there, pressing hard against my stomach, holding me flat like I was prey pinned for his use.

“You’re going to take this, every second, because you wanted it.” His words were gravel, an accusation and a sentence all at once.

His tongue lashed back onto my clit, harder now, sucking so ruthlessly it felt like he meant to bruise it. My thighs shook uncontrollably, my voice cracking into broken gasps, but there was no space for mercy in him, no hint of hesitation.

My body betrayed me, hips twitching to escape the relentless pressure, but he wasn’t letting me go anywhere. When I instinctively tried to close my thighs, his hand left me only long enough to reach across the desk.

I heard the clink of metal, the soft hiss of leather sliding free. My eyes widened just as he dragged the thick black strap across my trembling skin.

“No—please—”

“Yes,” he hissed, threading the strap around my thigh with infuriating precision.

The leather dug deep as he buckled it tight, pinning my leg down against the desk leg. Helpless. Wide open. Exposed.

The panic in my chest mixed with something darker, hotter, and spreading like fire. My breath came fast and shallow, every nerve alive.

“There,” he said, admiring his work with a cruel smile. “Try to close your legs now.”

I whimpered, testing it, but the strap held me wide, immovable. His control complete.

Pathetic little sounds fell from my throat as his fingers slammed back into me, faster this time, curling rough inside as his tongue returned to my clit, sucking, biting, dragging me apart.

“Pathetic. Already shaking.” He slapped my pussy again, wetter this time, my slick coating his palm. “And we’ve barely started…..”