Todos os capítulos de Bend me over, Professor : Capítulo 81 - Capítulo 90

POV Matthew “Where are we going?” I asked the second I stepped into the red BMW. The leather was soft and cold beneath me, the low hum of the engine already vibrating beneath my thighs. But it wasn’t the car that had me off-balance.It was her.She sat in the driver’s seat, legs crossed, wearing a blood-red dress that barely reached mid-thigh and stilettos sharp enough to slice through steel. Her lips matched the color of the car, and her hair was pinned back like she was ready to destroy someone. She didn’t even look at me as she shifted into gear.“You’ll see,” she said, voice calm as ever, eyes focused on the road.I stared at her for a long second, watching the way the fading sunlight slid over her skin like she was carved from fire and war.“I saw you yesterday,” I finally said, my voice lower than I meant. “With Fowler.”“I know you did.”She didn’t hesitate to answer me. Her knuckles flexed once around the wheel, and that was th

POV Matthew Ava was a fucking blur. The second I choked out, “What the fuck?!” she spun around, caught my line of sight, and bolted toward the door like a damn panther.I was still strapped to the goddamn cross—naked, panting, and hanging there like the world’s most humiliated piece of art—watching two women full-on wrestle in the hallway.Kayla shrieked like a banshee, phone clutched in a death grip, while Ava grabbed her by the hair and yanked her back like she was dragging a feral cat out of a dumpster. I couldn’t do anything but dangle there and witness it like some messed-up reality show. “This is fine,” I muttered, “this is totally fucking normal…”“Give me the fucking phone, you little parasite,” Ava snapped, fingers buried in Kayla’s extensions while Kayla kicked and screamed. “You’re insane!” Kayla screeched. “Let go of me, you leather-wearing psycho!” Ava didn’t even flinch. She ripped the phone from her hand and shoved her through

POV Matthew “That is such an inappropriate question to ask,” Ava said, her voice cutting through the room like a laser-guided scalpel through administrative bullshit.I watched her jaw tighten, nails digging into her palms like she was physically restraining herself from committing academic homicide. Which, honestly, would’ve been understandable given the circus we’d been dragged into.Dr. Howard blinked like someone had just explained quantum physics using interpretive dance. “Professor Wells—”“No.” Ava’s voice could’ve flash-frozen a volcano. “You’re conducting a formal inquiry based on campus gossip. No documentation. No evidence that couldn’t be explained by a third-grader with a basic understanding of human interaction.”She gestured toward me without breaking eye contact with Howard, which was somehow both protective and terrifying. “He’s twenty-three. A grown man. And you’re orchestrating this administrative witch hunt based on what? A few

POV Matthew They didn’t let me into the boardroom.Of course they didn’t. Students weren’t allowed at faculty misconduct hearings—especially not the student tied to the accusation. So while Ava walked into that sterile conference room alone, I sat three buildings away in my room, laptop open, heart pounding, fingers flying.She wasn’t alone. Not really.Thanks to the hours I’d spent mapping the university’s internal systems, I knew exactly which security camera was aimed at the conference room entrance and how to access the LED display screen mounted inside. Used for presentations, slideshow data, and now, hopefully, poetic justice.With one terminal open to the live feed and another queuing the media file, I watched Ava walk in.And God—she looked like a goddamn force of nature.Black tailored blazer, white blouse buttoned to her collarbone, hair pulled back into a clean, high bun. No makeup except a touch of red on her lips. Not flirty.

POV Matthew “A thank you,” she whispered, leaning over me, her voice soft and dangerous, “for my most dedicated student.” My wrists were bound to the headboard, the leather cuffs biting just enough to remind me I couldn’t touch her—not unless she let me. Not unless I earned it. My body trembled, straining beneath her as her perfume wrapped around me, that familiar jasmine spice and power that made me ache in places I didn’t have names for. Her fingers glided down my chest, slow and calculated. Like she was testing how far I’d let her go. How deep I’d fall for her. They trailed lower, teasing, until they wrapped around my cock, stroking me with maddening precision—tight, slow, dragging her palm up the underside just enough to make my hips jerk off the bed. “Ava…” I gasped, helpless, my voice a hoarse wreck. “Please.” She tilted her head, smiling like the wicked goddess she was. “Please what, bunny?” Her voice dipped into a purr, laced with condescension and heat.