Seraphine

twelve

Seraphine 

It's like time is frozen.

The only things that exist are her and him. He stares unabashedly, beautifully, and she trembles under his gaze. 

His head moves ever so slightly, and she glances to the side to see three other men laughing and talking animatedly with each other next to him.

The air is taken out of her lungs. They're all there. 

Everything comes back all at once as she blinks--the music reverberating through her bones, Derek's hand on her shoulder, the tight fabric around her body, the sticky amber substance still on her fingers. 

"Go pleasure Dr. Peeves, babe." The blood drains from her face as Derek speaks his demand aloud, and she begins to immediately shake her head.

She wants to look Derek in his eyes when she tells him off, but she can't tear her gaze away from Dr. Reeves.

Luca, her mind reminds her, and she sucks in a breath. The name fits him perfectly: dark and powerful, seductive and secretive. 

She watches as he lifts his glass to his lips and takes a sip, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows.

Seraphine clenches her thighs together. 

"Come on, Seraphine." Derek nudges her in the direction of the VIP booth, and she finally breaks her professors' spell. She swings her head around and shows him her horrified face. 

"N-No, I can't, that's my professor, Derek, I will not--" Derek cuts her off with an angry snarl and his hand slips down to her ass, squeezing it so tightly she gasps and stumbles forward into the table.

"Do as I say, and do it now, or you won't be walking for a week. Understand, whore?" 

Seraphine's body shrinks in on itself as the word 'whore' and how he spits it at her. He's never treated her this way, never accused her of being a slut or whoring around. Tears prick in her eyes as she thinks back to when she got home from class, and him accusing her of cheating on him. 

"Derek, I--" 

"Go." He swats her ass one more time, practically shoving her in the direction of the dance floor she has to cross before she reaches the VIP booth. 

She wonders why four of her college professors are in the VIP booth at a club on a Thursday, of all days, of all places, but she tries to take a step and her knees buckle, drawing her attention to the floor in front of her.

Seraphine glances over her shoulder and finds Derek sipping the rest of her scotch, watching her intently. His brown eyes are gleaming, and for a second--just a second--she's back in her teens, having fun at college with her perfect boyfriend. 

Then, someone bumps into her, and everything comes crashing down. 

She takes in a shaky breath and tugs at her dress once more, swearing under her breath when the fabric covers her cleavage but shows off the bottom of her ass. Her garter belts that Derek picked out for her are also showing, attached to the thigh high fishnet stockings that she's wearing. She silently thanks her past self for fighting for her flats instead of giving into Derek's suggestion of heels, otherwise she'd be tripping over her feet even more. 

Seraphine is a master at maneuvering through the crowd, careful not to step on anyone's toes or get crushed herself. She's got years of practice under her belt, and she hates herself for it. She wishes she could come back to Derek with the excuse that she couldn't make it, but she knows he would see right through her.

Her eyes catch the glowing restroom sign a few feet over, and her chest lifts as her body turns towards in instinctively. 

Maybe I can just hide here.

Her heart sinks.

And wait for Derek to find me? Take out his anger on me until I'm unrecognizable? 

Her hand unconsciously rises to her neck and she rubs at the makeup she applied there just a few hours prior. She winces as she presses on the thumb-shaped bruise on the left side of her neck, and drops her hand. 

Seraphine doesn't dare glance back at Dr. Reeves when she looks away from the restroom sign, instead letting her gaze drop straight to the sticky floor. It's too soon that she reaches the edge of the dance floor and her toes hit the first step leading to the raised platform. 

She breathes in deeply, her nose crinkling at the stench of sweat and alcohol mixing together. Her ears are ringing from the loud, bass-heavy music surrounding her, and she freezes when she realizes there's no laughing or talking anywhere near her. 

That means--

Seraphine can't help herself when she lifts her head and her eyes dart up. Her heart stops when she's met with four curious gazes. 

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Someone big and beefy steps in front of her, and Seraphine lets out a breath she didn't know she was holding as her view of the professors is blocked. She lifts her gaze even more to meet the sunglass-covered eyes of the man in front of her, and she bites her lip.

This must be the security guard. How am I supposed to--

"Let her in, Kyle." The sultry voice that belongs to Dr. Reeves washes over her, and Seraphine squeezes her eyes shut, once again regretting her decision to let Derek drag her out here.

The man steps to the side almost immediately, and without opening her eyes she feels four pairs of eyes on her once again.

She almost turns on her heel and runs, but she doesn't know where she'd even go. Back to Derek, without fulfilling her duties in his "game"? Hell no. Outside of the club? Derek's watching her, he'd be on her within a minute. 

Seraphine blows out a breath and lifts her foot, stepping up. Her new height would allow her to see over the tops of most of the clubs' patrons' heads. She doesn't dare turn back around, however, the fear of finding Derek's gaze outweighing her curiosity.

She feels the air grow thick with tension as she steps up once more, one step closer to her professors.

Her professors. 

Gods, she should not be doing this.

The four Kings are still staring at her--she can feel their gazes on her. She finally opens her eyes as she climbs the last step, and, self-conscious, wraps her arms around her middle.

"H-Hello," she sputters, trying to sound sexy and inviting, but it comes out all wrong. She tightens her arms around her ribs and just decides to get it over with. 

Seraphine closes the distance between her and Dr. Reeves, keeping her eyes on the ground until she finds his black dress shoes. Even then, she only allows herself to look as high as the booth he's sitting on.

She sees his hands resting on either side of his hips, and she sucks in a breath at the visible ink dancing along his fingers. They flex under her gaze, and she bites her lip. 

"I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm so fucking sorry, please forgive me, I'm so sorry," she mumbles over and over again as she steps up to him, her bare legs almost flush with his suit-clad ones. 

It takes her a second to regain her balance as her right leg lifts up, displaying her stockings and garter belt before it slides onto the booth next to Dr. Reeves. Her other leg comes up, and she settles down.

On her professor's lap.