50 SHADES OF SINFUL PRESSURE
They were seated in the leather chairs in front of the desk, chatting casually.
Blackwood barely glanced up.
“Lock the door, Miss Bennett.”
I locked it, heart hammering.
“Skirt up. On the desk. Legs spread wide.”
My face burned with shame, but I obeyed. I climbed onto the massive wooden desk on my back, pulled my skirt up to my waist, and spread my thighs. The two professors went quiet, eyes locked between my legs.
Blackwood stood and walked around the desk like he was giving a lecture.
“Gentlemen, as I was saying — this is what discipline looks like at my university.” He dragged two thick fingers through my folds and showed them the glistening wetness. “Already soaked. This little slut gets