The Professor And The Madman Novels & Stories

LILY’S POV~ Is that Professor Derrin’s substitute? He is dang cute! I can't believe a thought like that would land me in something I never dared imagine. Who could this stunning professor be, the hot, sexy devil? How has he had every girl on campus drop their panties for him? To make things worse, my next-door neighbor is my psych professor. I am failing his class, and now I'm in his black book. The memories from last night came haunting me as I got ready for his class.

He looked like a man starving and I was the only meal in sight. I let a slow smirk touch my lips. I turned around and started walking backward toward the staircase. I let my gaze drop from his dark eyes down to the heavy bulge straining against his zipper. "Keep me locked up all you want, Professor," I whispered "But you’re the one who is going to suffer for it.”

“Whatever it is can wait till morning.” “No,” the professor said, too forcefully. Then softer, almost a desperate cry, “No, you don’t understand. Someone’s been asking questions, About you, About the bane and About the sample you gave me.” Piper’s stomach dropped. “Who?” Silence. Then a loud crash sounded on his end, glass shattering. The professor cursed under his breath. “Professor?” Piper said. “What’s going on?” His voice came back low and strained. “Listen to me carefully, if you have more of that bane… don’t tell anyone. And whatever you do…”

2 XAVIER I thank whatever fucking god that all of these idiots are finally done with this class. I have taught English literature for three years now. Each year has been a different experience for me. The first year was by far the best. I was a new professor. Twenty three years old. I was so excited for my first real year teaching. I was excited to prove to the world that I didn't get the job just because my father is the dean. At the start of my first year of teaching, I was the shiny new toy. All of my students loved me, and seemed to love my teachings.

The same mouth that had been on me last night. Professor Elias Thorne. The man I fucked senseless in a hotel room. The man I was supposed to marry. He scanned the room and his eyes landed on me. I could see the same recognition I had on my face, flash through his. But it was gone in a second as he cleared his throat and stepped onto the podium. “Good morning,” he said calmly. “I’m Professor Thorne. Welcome to Advanced Literary Theory.” For a moment I just remained transfixed. Mara nudged me. “You okay? You look like you saw a ghost.”

“At least I get fucked properly. You’re still chasing a man who barely looks at you.” Professor Harlan muttered something panicked about his wife and tenure before bolting past me, nearly tripping over his own feet. I felt bile rise in my throat. The sight of his glistening, cum-covered cock, the smell of sex in the air was revolting. Especially knowing Sophia had done it so casually. “You’re disgusting,” I said quietly, voice steady despite the nausea. “Both of you, how can you even be fucking with a professor because of grades atleast I've dignity not to be spreading for some Fs because I know you're definitely getting that”.

I hear charcoal scratching the paper, he’s already drawing. I take my underwear down, step out of them, and I’m completely naked in my professor’s studio. “Sit on the stool in the stage.” I climb the two steps, the wooden stool pressing under me. The spotlight is bright, exposing. I cross my arms over my breasts, dying of shame. “Drop your arms.” “Mateo…” “Professor Sandoval.” His tone is sharp. “In this studio, you call me Professor. And you follow instructions. Arms down.”

"Or should I say Noah? The perfect little student who can't look me in the eye during class, but here you are fingering yourself like a desperate slut, asking strangers to watch.” My face was on fire. How did he know? The heat in my stomach made me panic. I tried to turn away, but he held me down harder, and his erection pushed against my butt crack through his trousers. It was thick and hard—oh my god, it felt huge. "Professor, please—" "Shut your mouth." Three of his veined fingers pushed into mine, stretching my lips wide.

“Don’t.” I wish she could talk to me about it, but we’re in the classroom, and the professor might arrive at any time. But, just as I anticipated, a loud, clearing throat resounds across the classroom. Everyone shuts their mouths, followed by a deadly silence. Our attention gets drawn to the front, where a sophisticated, sexy, and attractive young professor in a black shirt and pants stands by the grand piano. He now has a pair of black-framed glasses on. The most awaited man has finally arrived. “Good morning. I’m Professor Julian Sebastian...”