Yes, Masters (Book 2 of Desire's Den)

Chapter 27 - Emma

"Sure, let me just get my stuff," I said to Mateo. The envious looks of the other girls burned me as I started collecting everything into my bag. I ignored them, but a part of me couldn't help but feeling just a little bit smug.

Trying to drag out the time, putting my things away unhurriedly, waiting for the room to empty out. Only when there was only us left, did I finally make my way over to him.

"What's up?" I tried to seem nonchalant, but if the slight twitch of his mouth was any sign, then it didn't work.

"I can't help but notice that you seem quite...distracted in my class. Am I boring you, Ms. Fields?" The glint in his eyes made me swallow.

"N-no, you're not boring me, P-professor Wright," I answered, feeling flushed. All of the sudden, every fantasy, every scenario I'd dreamed up bombarded me—but especially one, discipline. I'd thought about it, more than I'd thought about anything else as I sat through his lectures; how he would pull me aside after a class, and he would tell me what I'd done wrong. And then...he would make sure I learned from my mistakes.

My pussy clenched, and I had to stifle a moan that wanted to escape.

"Then tell me, Ms. Fields, why do you have such trouble focusing?" Mateo took a step closer to me. I should've taken a step back, I know I should, but my body was too desperate for his closeness. It had been too long, and I craved it more than I could put into words.

"I think you know, professor," I whispered. I hadn't meant to make my voice sound husky, but it did anyway.

His thumb brushed over his lower lip as his eyes took me in. The heat in them was unmistakable now. He took another step closer, bringing us almost but not quite up against each other. If I were to take a deep breath, my tits would surely brush against his chest. This—us standing this close together—wasn't appropriate. If anyone were to walk in on us, they would know that our relationship wasn't strictly as student and professor. They would know there was something more between us.

"I think I do, but spell it for me anyway, so there will be no misunderstanding between us," he said, his tone dripped with scorching lust. "Why is it, that when I watch you in class, your eyes have this hazy look in them, and you can't seem to sit still? I've watched you, Ms. Fields, I've seen how your thighs were rubbing together as if you were trying to alleviate a certain...ache."

This time, I couldn't hold in my soft moan. My eyes fell shut, as if him—standing in front of me, as my former dominant, as my professor, insinuating that I was turned on in his class—, was too much for me, and it was. It was heady, and erotic, and so, so wrong. It was dirty.

I shivered when he finally touched me. He took hold of my chin and angled my face up, silently telling me to look at him. I did. I gasped as I took in his eyes. Having him so close to me, I could see how dark they'd become, how full of desire they were.

"What do you do if someone asks you a question, Emma? You answer them." The way he said the last three words, so sternly and firm, sent another shudder through my body.

Licking my lips unconsciously, I stared up at him. His eyes tracked the movement of my tongue, and his already heated eyes turned almost black as his pupils dilated. "I-I'm not sure what you're talking about."

His gaze narrowed. "Don't lie to me. Tell me why you look like you want to get fucked every time I see you in class."

Fucked. Just the sound of him saying that word made me wet. I could feel it seeping out of my pussy and drench my panties. "I..." I didn't know what to say. "I can't help my reaction to you," I finally admitted. I hadn't wanted to. This was dangerous ground. He didn't need to know how much I missed him, and how much my body craved his. "It's not my fault that my body still wants you. I can't control it." It was a pitiful attempt at trying to distance us.