description: you were professor murdock's favorite student. two words, one slip of the tongue, leads you to be something more.
word count: 8k
warnings: teacher/student relationship, smut, choking, reader has a praise kink, slight posession kink, fucking in public (matt's office), matt murdock deserves his own warning
So, with that evidence, he would be...." Matt paused, waiting for someone in the class to chime in with the answer.
But he was met with silence.
"Anyone? C'mon guys, you know this," Matt hounded the class as he paced around the front of the lecture hall, waiting for someone to speak up. He listened close for signs of people at least trying to figure out the answer. An uptick in heart rate, the fluttering of paper, anything. But he came up with nothing; just steady heartbeats and constant breaths. Just his luck to get the late lecture slot on Friday night, half the class didn't even bother to show up. The half that did was usually either on their phones, or half asleep.
Except for you, of course.
You were chewing on the end of your pen, something you always did when you were focused. He had gotten to know your little tics over the past few weeks; you fiddled with your rings when nervous, bounced your leg when taking notes, and, his personal favorite, you smiled when he said your name.
"Miss Y/N?"
He heard the small intake of breath, the drop of a pen. Then, his favorite sound: the slow rise of the muscles in your cheeks, the flush of blood to your face. Smiling and blushing; all for him. He bit his lip in an attempt to hide his own reaction. He just couldn't help it, not when it came to you.
Matt was no stranger to the effect he had on people, particularly his students. He had been teaching a law class at Columbia for a few years now, and he was used to the way his students talked about him. He knew he was attractive, being dubbed the 'hot professor,' and by now he had come to expect the flirty comments and attempts to 'earn a better grade.' It was part of his job, at this point: he'd give them a small smile, tell them he wasn't interested. And that was the truth, he never was interested, especially not in a student.
Until it came to you.
The first day of class, you stumbled a few minutes late, muttering apologies as you found a seat in the front of the class. Matt was immediately enamored by your voice, the way you said his name that first day sent shivers down his spine. The sweet, soft spoken, "Professor Murdock" made him ache, ache for you. Which was something he was not expecting. He hadn't been this attracted to someone since Elektra, and he hadn't even spoken to you yet. Over the weeks, he had become even more enamored with you, with your intellect, your kindness, your... everything.
And he hated it.
University rules clearly stated students and professors could not engage in any type of relationship that wasn't professional. Until the student left the professor's roster, they were extremely off limits. Engaging in a relationship with a student, especially a sexual one, would cost him his job. He'd have to wait until you weren't in his class to tell you how he felt. There was still a month left in the semester, a month till he could do anything. It was a weird, twisted form of torture: he loved having you in class, loved hearing your voice, but hated that he couldn't have more.
And God, forgive him, but he wanted more.
As much as he hated to admit it often found himself most nights in his office, hand down his pants, picturing you beneath him, writhing in pleasure. He often regretted it right after he finished, having these thoughts for someone who was his student. He couldn't help it. He knew it was wrong, him liking you was wrong. Him having these thoughts about you was wrong. Not being able to get off unless he was thinking of you was wrong.
But at the same time, something about it felt oh so right.
"Uhh...." The sound of you flickering through your notes brought him back to the present. You were flustered, he heard your heartbeat flutter in your chest. Whatever you were focused on before had really captured your attention, probably the case you guys were studying.
Little did he know, you hadn't been paying attention all class, at least not to his words.
You were focused on him.
Before enrolling in his class, you had heard whispers about the sexy defense lawyer turned professor, someone telling you on a whim that "the blind thing makes him sexier." Which one, was offensive, and two, made no sense. Everyone seemed to be obsessed with him, and you didn't understand why. You heard your advisor make a comment about his charm when you registered for the class, and hell, your friend was taking the class just for him. But you truly didn't understand the appeal. He was just a professor, right? What could be so special about him?
You soon found that the answer was everything. Professor Murdock was the most enchanting man you had ever met. The way he spoke, the slight cock of his head when he got into an argument. That cocky, wide grinned smile, dimples on full display. His rolled up sleeves, god, those muscles through those too tight shirts. His intellect, the way he lectured made your head spin. And of course, the way he said your name. You hadn't been this enamored with a guy since... well, ever. And you weren't alone in that feeling, almost every girl in your class was in love with him. He didn't pay any attention to anyone, though, curving every flirtatious comment or attempt to get him alone. It was clear to the class: he wasn't interested in any of his students.
The way he treated you, however, said otherwise. Mr. Murdock spoke to you in a slightly softer tone than the one he used with his classmates, smiled at you more. He always said your name with a smile, making you feel things you definitely shouldn't be feeling in the middle of class. He left the sweetest comments on all your papers, sent you the kindest, most through email replies. You lingered after class most days with some stupid question, eager to spend more time with you. And he always obliged, always changed the conversation towards you; your other classes, your weekend plans, anything. It was almost as if he wanted more time with you, too.
And that sent shivers down your spine.
"Y/N?"
He said your name again, calling you back to the present. You looked up from your notes to find him standing in front of you, smiling down at you. He leaned on his cane, head tilted, awaiting your answer.
Fuck, the answer!
"Guilty, professor. Definitely guilty."
"Good! Good girl," He said the last part softly, so only you could hear. He didn't mean to, he swore he really didn't mean to, but it slipped out. Maybe it was the fact your hair was down today, the scent of your sweet shampoo flooding his nose. Or maybe it was the fact you were wearing that skirt, a little fluffy cotton number that left your legs on full display. He didn't know what it was that made him say it, all he knew was that couldn't resist, not when it came to you. Not when he suspected it would turn you on. He was grateful at that moment, though the rest of the class was barely paying any attention. Something like that could have cost him his job.
But, fuck, did your reaction make it worth that risk.
Goosebumps covered your entire body, he felt the blood rush to your cheeks again, and somewhere else. Somewhere lower. Your breath caught in your throat, caught off guard by the nickname, which could have been a negative response. But the growing slick between your thighs told him you liked it. That you wanted more. You were so sensitive, so responsive just to two little words, his two little words. He turned you on, he was the one making you feel this way.
He could only imagine how he'd make you feel with his tongue...
Or his cock-
A small shuffle from somewhere in the room broke his concentration, someone readjusting in his seat. But it was enough to make him snap back to reality, to remember where he was. What was he doing? You were his student, he was your professor. This was wrong, you were young, he shouldn't be flirting like this. He didn't even know if you'd been in relationships before; he shouldn't be feeling this way or thinking these thoughts. Why was he feeling this way? Why were you so encaptivating? Matt heard the familiar shift of your facial muscles, the sure sign your lips were creeping into a smile, and then he remembered. It was you: everything you did, everything you said, everything you were that made him act this way. You were driving him crazy, and he needed some relief, badly.
Screw the rules.
He wanted you.
He got back to his lecture quickly, picking up right where he left off. That was the best way to avoid suspicion, he supposed. And to give you enough time to decide how you'd respond. He heard the signature scribble of a few pens as he described what comes after a verdict, one of those pens being yours. To unsuspecting eyes, you were simply listening to the lecture, taking notes.
But Matt knew your heart was still racing.
You got back to your notes quickly, trying to ignore your rapidly beating heart. He didn't mean it like that, right? He just wanted to commend you for getting the answer right. Right? Surely he didn't know that praise got you all hot and bothered; you could already feel yourself getting wet between your thighs. You tried to follow Mr. Murdock's lecture, but you couldn't focus on anything he was saying. Not when he had said that, and walked away like it was nothing. It was too intentional, too hushed, too on the nose for it to be a mistake, you decided. He meant to say it. He wanted to see how you'd react, wanted to see if you wanted him too.
And, God, did you.
You just had to decide what you'd do next. He'd left the ball in your court: you got to decide where you wanted this to go. You could do the obvious, and probably the most sensible: pretend it never happened and leave as soon as possible. That way, you'd keep your scholarship and Professor Murdock would keep his job. But, the riskier option would be to linger behind as you usually did, to wait until your classmates left. You'd see what Mr. Murdock meant by his little comment, see if he wanted to say anything more.
Or do anything more.
It was a no brainer, in your eyes. You'd be risking everything: your scholarship, your enrollment, his job, ect. But you couldn't stand another day listening to him say your name so sweetly, or praising your work in words that sent shivers down your spine. You couldn't stand another day of watching him walk across the classrooms, sleeves folded up, hair peeking out of his dress shirt, knowing you could have him, but still holding back. You wanted, needed to see where he'd take it next, if he wanted to risk it too.
And you were almost certain that he did.
"Alright, guys. I think that's it for today. Check the syllabus for your homework, and have a great...weekend."
Before he even finished his sentence, the majority of the class was already out of the room, on their way to their friday night plans. There were a few stragglers of course, as there always was. It didn't slip his mind that one of those stragglers was you. You tended to linger back after class most days. It had started at first as just questions about class, but soon morphed into you two just chatting. You'd talk about your other classes and your career plans, he'd give you advice when needed, but mostly just listened. Every little thing you shared about yourself, about your life, Matt relished. It was domestic, like a date without the formality; he felt like he already knew everything about you. Tonight though, something told him your conversation would be different.
"Y/N, hang back a sec?" He asked, even though he knew you would stay. He just wanted to get rid of that last little bit of doubt in his mind.
He listened intently as your teeth caught on your bottom lip; your attempt at holding back a smile. These are some of the only times he wished he could see, to see your reaction, to see the happiness creep up on your face. He was lucky he had his abilities, otherwise he wouldn't be so sure that you wanted him too. But the blood rushing to your face, your smile wide, alleviated all his doubts.
"Sure Professor," Your joy was clear in your tone, and Matt felt no shame in the smile that crept up his own cheeks. He knew there were a few students left still packing up, but he wasn't concerned. It was a well known fact you were his favorite student, you were the only one actually passionate about the class. Your passion for law and dedication to the class only added to your appeal, Matt loved getting in debates with you about the day's material. He loved how invested you were, how much you believed that in the end, law would prevail. It was incredible, your wavering belief. You wanted to do good, knew you could do good through the courts, just like him.
"You're staying again to fuck him, aren't you," your friend blurted out, breaking his train of thought. He had to hold back a laugh as he sensed your face flushing red at your friend's comment.
"Liv, for the last time, we aren't fucking. I just like to talk to him," Your heart rate was steady, you were telling the truth. You did like talking to him, and you guys weren't fucking.
Not yet, at least, he thought as his darker side got the best of him.
"Talk. Mhm, sure. Well, if your fuck fest gets over before eleven, text me. Use protection!"
With that, she grabbed her bag and ran out, leaving only you and him left in the classroom. Tension filled the room like a thick fog, goosebumps covered your skin in anticipation of what was to come. Matt hated making you nervous, making you wait. He wanted you to break the silence, to have you decide where you wanted the evening to go.
But it was clear you wanted him to take the lead.
"Y/N, that's you right?"
"Yes, Professor. Just me."
God forgive him, but the way you said his title...It made him feel things he shouldn't be feeling. It was downright sinful, the way the word rolled off your tongue. He wanted to know what you would sound like saying his name, or begging. You emphasized those last two words, making it clear to him that you two were alone.
That he could do whatever he wanted.
Matt's mind scrambled for an excuse to get you to his office. It was smaller, more intimate, and he had a couch there. A couch he hoped you two would get some use out of tonight. He didn't want to get ahead of himself, of course. He didn't want to make you uncomfortable in any way, didn't want to force you into doing something you'd regret. But, the smell of the slick between your thighs told him you were thinking about the same thing.
You shifted on your feet again, reminding Matt you were waiting for him to make the next move.
"W-would you mind helping me move these books back to my office? It's just a few doors down, I-I also have a paper of yours to give back. Unless, of course, you have other plans. "
Professor Murdock was giving you an out, one last chance to stop whatever was going to happen. You appreciated the gesture, sure, but your mind was made up.
"I'd love to, Professor Murdock," you said with a smile, relishing the way your words made Matt smile in response.
"Matt. My name's Matt."
Matt. A simple thing, just his name, but it felt like the final step into something larger. You had spent time with him outside of class for weeks now, but he had never told you his name. It was like he had been holding himself back, his true self, and he was finally ready to let go.
To give himself to you.
"Matt," you said his name once, taking in the way the name tasted on your tongue. You liked it. You wanted more.
"Matt. Matthew, I presume? Maybe even Matty? I like it," you'd adopted a teasing tone, not dissimilar to the one Matt had taken with you earlier, when those two little words slipped out. You figured if he wanted to tease, so would you.
You watched as Matt's cheeks flushed pink, his mouth twitching ever so slightly. You imagined this was how he felt earlier, seeing you all hot and bothered. So, a fan of nicknames, you thought.
You'd keep that in mind for later.
"Either's perfect, coming from you," he said with a smile. Now it was your turn to blush again. Matt had made nice comments before in class, sure, even the occasional compliment. But now that he was openly flirting?
You didn't know how to handle it.
"Umm... where are the books?" You decided it was best to just move on, ignore his outright flirting for now. If you flirted back right now, you were pretty sure you'd jump his bones right here in the middle of the classroom. And as much as you'd love to act out your late night fantasies, you knew that the building wasn't empty.
And with Matt, you didn't want to have to contain your moans.
"Oh! Yeah, right here," he said as he felt around his desk, finding the edge and leaning down. He picked up two books, two he could easily carry himself, but it was clear the books were just an excuse to get you in his office. To get you alone. You grabbed your bag and walked down the lecture hall ramp, meeting Matt at his desk. You walked over to him, trailing your hands down his arms, before grabbing the books out of his hands.
"Ready?" You asked, as he grabbed his briefcase and cane from atop his desk. He balanced both items in one hand, stretching out the other to find your arm, wrapping his arm around it. He leaned in close, close enough so you could hear the contented hum he let out once you were flush against his side. His head turned toward you, as he smiled and said:
"Lead the way."
You two spent the majority of the walk in silence, the only words between you two were Matt's directions on how to get to his office. It consistently amazed you how Matt knew where you two were after every turn, effortlessly guiding you to his office door. You used the downtime to relish in Matt's warmth at your side, how close he kept himself to you despite not needing a guide. You'd seen him get around the building plenty of times with just his cane, using the braille on the various door signs to navigate himself. So he was clearly just using the excuse of needing a guide to be close to you, and that thought sent shivers down your spine.
"The door on your left. That's my office. I just gotta get my keys," he broke his grasp around your forearm, fishing his keys out of the pocket of his trousers. He unlocked the door, grabbing the books out of your arm and placing them on his desk. While he got settled, putting down his briefcase and collapsing his cane, you admired his office. There weren't many decorations, you didn't know why you'd thought he'd have any. The only decoration, of sorts, was a small metal sign hung above his desk, "Nelson and Murdock: Attorneys at Law." Must have been his practice before he started teaching, you thought. Other than the sign, he had a bookshelf in one corner, filled to the brim with various textbooks in braille. Against one wall was a couch, a smaller, love seat type deal, pillow and blanket stacked neatly in the corner. You smirked at the thought of Matt, typically all tough and no bullshit, cuddled up under a little penguin blanket.
"You sleep here?" You said with a chuckle, putting your own bag down on the floor.
"Sometimes. I like the occasional nap or two between classes," Matt said as he fished something out of his briefcase, closing it with a snap. The room fell into silence for a second, and you didn't know how to break it. Matt began to walk over, piece of paper in hand. Upon a closer look, you realized it was your paper, and your heart dropped. Did he really call you in here just to talk about your paper? Did you read everything wrong?
But then Matt took a seat on the almost-too-small-for-two-people couch, patting the cushion right next to him, and all your fears disappeared.
"Sit, Y/N, sit."
He heard your heart begin to race in your chest as you sat down next to him, close enough so that your legs were touching. It took everything in him to not pull you down atop him and bring your lips to his, but he knew he needed to take this slow. He didn't know if this was going to be a one time thing, whatever it was. Regardless, he wanted to be able to take his time, make sure you were enjoying it, to savor your reactions.
To savor you.
"I-Is that my paper?" You stuttered, Matt could hear the tension in your voice. You were fiddling with your rings as you always did when nervous, though this time, Matt could smell your arousal in the air. You weren't anxious, you were anticipating what was to come, same as him. It was turning you on, this build up. So he decided to tease you a little more.
"Oh, yeah, here," he held the paper out, letting his fingers brush yours as he handed it to you.
"Great job as always. You really nailed the final commentary piece, too. I'll be using it as an example for the rest of the class, if that's ok."
You couldn't hide your smile as he spoke. Matt knew you liked to hear how well you were doing, to be praised in the classroom setting. He had heard the steady uptick in your heart whenever he complimented your phrasing, or commended you for getting the answer right. But, due to his little slip up earlier, he knew that desire to be praised carried over into other parts of your life. More intimate settings. He couldn't help himself as he continued to speak, eager to see your reaction to his words.
"You really like to hear how good you're doing, huh?"
Matt heard the breath catch in your throat, sensed the way you clenched your thighs for some type of relief. His words had had the exact reaction he'd hoped for, going straight to your core. He knew he had you pegged, but it still felt good to see your reaction. He took another bold move, placing his hand atop your thigh, right where the skirt ended and your skin began to show. You physically shuttered, but didn't move his hand away. In fact, he felt you move just a little closer, until you were flush against his side. If someone walked in and found you two like this, he'd lose his job. A small part of him kept reminding him you were his student, this was wrong. It wasn't just taboo, it was illegal. He'd lose his job.
But he couldn't pull himself away from you.
"I-I just... I really like to please, Professor."
Now it was his turn to shutter. He definitely wasn't expecting that in response. You clearly had caught on to his little game, the teasing banter back and forth. Your tone was light, innocent, and unpresuming. But you knew exactly what you were doing, using his title like that. He adjusted in his seat a bit, trying to hide his growing erection beneath his trousers. He had never gotten this turned on, this fast, but you had a hold on him he couldn't explain. Just your words, the contact of your body heat against his, was enough to get him going.
And he wanted more.
"Matt, sweetheart. You can call me Matt."
Sweetheart. You liked that. You really liked that. There was a whole new wave of arousal in the air, Matt could smell it. You must have been practically dripping, the way your scent crowded his senses. You shifted next to him, rubbing against the couch just the slightest bit, seeking some relief. He wouldn't be able to keep composure, to tease you much longer. His hand had already started sliding up your thigh on instinct, sliding under the fabric of your skirt. He was seeking out your wanting arousal, seeking more of you.
He needed more of you.
"Matt..." You said, his name a breathy sigh on your lips. You stood up abruptly, leaving Matt alone on the couch, hands cold from the lack of contact. He was confused, he hadn't sensed any indication that you didn't want this as much as him.
What were you doing?
"Why'd you call me in here?"
You had your hands on your hips, holding you steady. He searched your tone for any hint of hesitation, anything saying you didn't want this. But your words were strong, clear, and concise. You knew what you were asking. You knew what he was going to say in response, and hell, you wanted him too. You were just looking for confirmation, something to tell you that this was real, that it was happening. That it wasn't a dream.
And Matt could give you that.
After a little more teasing, of course.
He stood up from his spot on the couch, walking over to where you stood in the middle of the room. He took a bold move, placing both hands on your hips, keeping both you and him in place. He pulled you flush against him, close enough so that he knew you could feel his cock flush against your stomach. He wanted you to know, to realize how much you turned him on. He leaned in, close, biting back a laugh when he felt you lean in too. He paused before you two were touching, wanted to tease you just a little bit more, keep you on the edge.
"Oh I think you know, sweet girl," Matt whispered, relishing in the feeling of your hips against his. The fabric of your skirt was soft, fluffy, and he was pretty sure pink; all he wanted to do was bury his head in it. Your hands moved from your side to Matt's neck, one raking itself in his hair. He couldn't help the small whine that escaped his lips, not when your fingers felt so good. You were so gentle, scratching ever so slightly, the tension disappearing from his shoulders almost entirely. You leaned in close and Matt licked his lips in anticipation, but you stopped just before you two connected.
"Wanna hear you say it, Matty," you whispered in the darkness. He could feel your breath on your lips, could taste the strawberry flavored chapstick in the air. You were teasing him back, giving him a taste of his own medicine. You weren't as innocent as he originally thought, not as fragile as he surmised. You could handle yourself.
And he loved it.
Without missing a beat, he whispered back.
"How about I show you instead?"
Matt's lips connected with yours, softer than you were expecting, but you weren't one to complain. Not when you were finally here, finally kissing the man you've been fantasizing about for weeks. You grabbed onto the back of Matt's neck tighter, trying to ground yourself in the moment. This was real, this wasn't a dream.
You were kissing Professor Murdock.
Matt's tongue slipped inside your mouth, eager to deepen the kiss. You obliged, eager to take as much as Matt wanted to give. You suspected that this moment wouldn't last long, there was only so much you could do in his office without getting caught. You wanted to savor it for as long as the kiss lasted, for however long you and Matt were willing to risk it.
Almost as if he had read your mind, Matt broke the kiss, resting his forehead on yours for a second. Keeping your eyes closed, you let out a breathy sigh, reveling in the moment. You waited for him to speak, to break the moment. Instead, Matt's hands found your hips, gripping tight, and beginning to walk you backwards, backwards towards the door.
"Matt, what are you doing?" You giggled slightly, taken aback by the movement.
And then his mouth found your neck.
"Matt... not in t-the office...they'll hear us, you'll...oh fuck-" Your words faltered as he pressed you against the door. His fingers had somehow already found their way under your skirt, pressing your underwear aside to find your folds as he kissed down your neck. You were not expecting this. You'd always found Matt to be a particularly level headed teacher, one fond of the rules. He turned down every advancement from his students, never kept the class a minute past the end time. You thought he liked his rules, liked to obey. But here you were: his mouth leaving marks on your neck, his fingers teasing your slick.
You were the exception to his rule, you guessed.
You couldn't help but moan as his thumb brushed your clit, fingers teasing your entrance. You didn't expect this. You certainly weren't surprised when Matt leaned in for the kiss, but that's all you thought it was going to be: a kiss. You didn't think Matt was going to finger you in his office, or fuck you on his desk. But right now, those seemed to be his two intentions.
"Oh, they'll hear us, huh? You think they'll hear how wet you are for me?" Matt's tone was rich and low against your neck, growling in your ear. He was teasing you; testing your limits to see how far you'd go right here. The building was mostly empty, as it was nine o'clock at night. But you were certain there'd be a few stragglers, just like Matt. And as much as you wanted, needed him, you didn't want to risk him losing the job he loved so much.
"We're gonna get c-cau-auh... ohhhhh," Matt cut you off by pushing two of his fingers inside you, curling them just right to hit that one spot on the first try. He kept pumping his fingers in and out, in and out, hitting that spot again and again and again. You couldn't do anything but throw your head back in pleasure and wrap your hands around Matt's neck to keep you afloat. Deep down, you knew this was wrong. He was your professor, you were his student, you couldn't be doing this, especially not in his office.
But if this was so wrong, why did it feel so right?
Your mind was blank, covered in a fog of pleasure at Matt's hand. His fingers felt divine, a godly gift from above. And hell, with the way he looked, maybe he was a god himself. Gone were your protests from seconds ago, long gone in fact. All you wanted to do was moan and beg for more.
"Thought you were scared of us getting caught, sweetheart?" He chuckled in response to your moans, working his fingers even faster. His lips moved from their place on your neck, leaving small kisses along your jaw, til he reached your ear.
"You're being so good for me baby, so good. Wanna cum? I wanna make you cum. C'mon, wanna make you cum."
You couldn't form words to answer Matt's question, only nod slightly while your head was thrown back in ecstasy. This was all too much, Matt's fingers, his lips against your neck, the realization that it was him, your professor, bringing you this pleasure. He kept hitting that spot inside you again and again, curling his fingers just right with every thrust. With the feeling of his fingers, and the fact that it was his fingers, Matt's fingers, you were going to cum faster than you ever had before.
"Matt, I'm g-gonna, I'm-" You began, trying to warn him of your impending release. Before you could finish, however, reach that peak Matt desperately wanted for you, he pulled his fingers away entirely. You whined in protest, upset at the lack of stimulation. But before you could chastise him, he grabbed your hips, moving you away from the door and guiding you to sit on his desk. He pushed your skirt up to your waist, leaving you and your underwear on full display. You expected him to fumble with his belt, to fuck you right then and there, but he did something unexpected.
He dropped to his knees.
"Changed my mind, sweetheart. Wanna taste you."
You watched through hooded glasses as he removed his tie and glasses, you finally getting a real look at those beautiful brown eyes. He always kept his glasses on in class, only taking them off once and a while to rub his eyes. He had told you, in one of your after class talks, people typically found his eyes uncomfortable. The unfocused stare, the lack of blinking turned people away. You had told him that wasn't true, that you'd love to see his eyes. He had told you maybe someday he'd take his glasses off so you could see.
Little did you know that moment would be right now, with Matt kneeling beneath you like a man at the altar.
Ready to worship.
He looked up towards you and smiled, giving you another glimpse of those sinfully warm eyes. He placed small kisses along your thighs, teasing you yet again. If you had learned anything about Matt Murdock today, it was that he liked to tease, he liked the chase. Despite your fears earlier of being caught, all you wanted now was to cum. You knew it was wrong, knew you could be caught at any moment, but you didn't care. Matt clearly wanted this, and so did you. He just wanted to take his time, and you didn't. After your first ruined orgasm, you weren't too keen on the idea of him drawing this out any longer. You huffed above in protest, causing Matt to chuckle against the soft skin of your thigh.
"I got you, baby. I'll give you what you want," He said with a smile, leaving one last hickey on your thigh, before finally diving between your folds. You moaned in ecstasy when his tongue first made contact with your clit, raking your hands through his hair and pulling him in closer. Matt hummed in contentment as your fingers tugged his hair, silently begging him for more, more, more.
And he was more than eager to oblige.
Matt couldn't help his own moans at your taste, the way you used your hands to bring his face closer to you, grinding down on him. He loved the way you were taking what you wanted from him, and he was more than willing to give it. With another groan from his own mouth, he shifted up a little bit on his knees, just enough so that his nose rubbed against your clit. You practically yelped at the contact, raking your hands in his hair even harder. Matt tried to ignore his own arousal, the way his cock was painfully straining against the fabric of his pants. He wanted to, needed to make you cum before he even thought about himself.
"C'mon, sweetheart, need you to cum. Need to taste you, please," he mumbled between your folds, the vibrations causing you to arch your back of the desk in pleasure. He could feel your walls begin to contract, could hear the uptick in your heartbeat as you approached your peak. You were close, almost over the wall. And Matt was gonna get you there.
He began flicking your clit with his tongue at a rapid pace, ready to make you cum. You chanted his name like a silent, soft prayer, "Matt, Matt, Matt," over and over again. Finally, with another swirl of his tongue, your muscles contracted, and a new wave of your arousal coated his tongue. You had a death grip on his hair, pushing his face between your thighs and riding out your high. He could sense the relief in your body as your heart rate slowed and your thighs relaxed; he smiled to himself, knowing he brought you that pleasure. He listened as you shifted yourself up on your arms, sitting up, still panting slightly. He looked up from his place between your thighs, trying his best to meet your eyes based on his best guess. Your hands found his shoulders, then his face, as you spoke.
"Get the fuck up here and kiss me."
You both chuckled at your words, but Matt obeyed, standing up and finding your lips once again. He heard you groan into the kiss, overwhelmed at his taste on your tongue. If it was up to him, he'd stay like this all day, his hands on your hips, your lips against his. This was what he had been waiting for all semester, all he ever wanted.
To be with you.
But your hands shifting down to his belt reminded him of his other, more pressing problem. He moved his hands up to find the bottom of your t-shirt, teasing the soft skin underneath. You huffed impatiently, lips pursed together in what he imagined was the cutest little pout, as you broke the kiss, quickly removing your t-shirt. You went right back to his mouth, however, and your attempt to remove his belt. He traced his fingers up your lower back, trying to memorize every little dip and curve he could find. He finally found the hook of your bra, playing with the waistband, as he broke the kiss.
"Can I-" He began, but you cut him off.
"For God sakes, Matthew, pleaseee," You whined, finally undoing his belt. He twisted the hooks of your bra, undoing them all at once, as the fabric fell along your shoulders. You removed your hand from the button of his pants, shrugging the soft fabric off your chest, before returning to your original position. He slowly, carefully, traced his fingers from your back to your upper ribs, finally coming into contact with your breasts. Before he could explore them, savor them as you deserved, your hand began to palm his cock through the fabric.
"S-shit," Matt exclaimed, and you bit your lip at his reaction, unable to hide your satisfaction at finally having him. This whole night, you'd been at his mercy, under his spell. But now it was his turn.
You undid the last button on his pants, tugging them down past his ass, as they fell to the floor. You found the waistband of his briefs, tugging those down too, letting his cock spring from it's confines. You couldn't help the gasp that escaped your lips at his size; he was huge. You could barely wrap your hand around his as you moved to pump him, using the precum at his tip as lubricant. One flick of your wrist had him moaning, bucking up into your hand. You looked up to find his eyes closed, head thrown back in pleasure, mouth agape in ecstasy. He was beautiful like this: vulnerable, relaxed, letting go. You didn't know what this was with Matt, whether it was a one time thing or something more. All you knew is you wanted to keep bringing him this pleasure for as long as you got the chance.
Abruptly, he grabbed your wrist, pausing your movements. He brought your hand up to his lips, giving it a kiss, before dropping it entirely.
"Wanna fuck you now. Turn over," his tone was firm, low. Not unlike the tone he used in the classroom, when giving the class directions, orders on what to do next. He expected to be listened to in the bedroom, the same way he was listened to in the classroom,
And god, did it turn you on.
You obliged, standing up to remove your skirt before leaning over on his desk. The scene was utterly pornographic, something out of your deepest, darkest fantasies come to life. You were about to fuck your professor, you couldn't believe it. Matt started unbuttoning the buttons on his dress shirt, slowly, muttering praises and promises as he went.
"Thought about this for weeks, you know. You, spread out over my desk. So fucking beautiful, so fucking good for me. You gonna be good for me now, huh? Let me make you cum on my cock?"
Matt was definitely dirtier than you were expecting, and you were loving it. He was a rule follower to the utmost extent, following the same routine every class. You didn't expect him to be so vocal in the bedroom, so filthy, but it was more than welcome. You nodded in response to his question, turning your head back to face him as you spoke.
"Please, Matty. Please fuck me."
Matt practically growled in response, throwing his shirt on the floor. He grabbed your hips from behind, pressing his cock against your ass. The contact caused you to arch your ass up into him, silently begging for more. And you knew Matt was gonna give it to you.
He guided his erection to his folds, rubbing up and down a few times, coating himself in your slick. After a minute, he lined himself up with your entrance, pushing just the tip in slowly. You cried out at the sudden contact, taken aback by the stretch. But Matt placed a kind hand on your lower back, rubbing his thumb across his skin, comforting you.
"I got you, sweetheart. I got you," He said as he slowly pushed himself in, taking his time as he stretched you out. It had been a while since you'd had sex, and with Matt's size, it was a bit of a stretch. After a minute or so, he bottomed out, causing you both to groan. He pulled back again slowly, causing you to groan, not out of pain, but of pleasure. He brushed up against your g-spot as he thrusted out, already bringing you immense satisfaction on the first thrust. He began to pull out all the way again, afraid he'd hurt you, but you reached your hands back, grasping for him.
"More, god, Matt please-" you began, but he cut you off with another thrust. He continuously hit that spot inside you with each thrust, grabbing your hips to help ensure he was getting the angle right. You grabbed the edge of his desk for support as he began to thrust harder, now seeking out his own pleasure.
"Fuck, Matt, sooo good," You moaned, unable to hold back your sounds of pleasure.
Your words went straight to Matt's cock, twitching inside of you. Fuck, you were hot. He tried to memorize the way you writhed under him, pushing your hips back to meet him with each thrust. You were tight, tighter than he had expected. Between that, and the filthy fact of you being his student, strewn out naked across his desk, he wasn't going to last long. He needed to make what he had left count.
"Turn over," He ordered, slipping himself out and stepping back entirely. He listened as your eyebrows scrunched in confusion, but you listened anyway, laying back down on the desk. He grabbed your legs, placing them on his shoulders as he again found your entrance, and pushed inside. He didn't give you any lead up, any grace period as he resumed his rapid pace, thrusting in and out of you. You lifted your hips up in pleasure as his thumb found your clit, rubbing it rapidly, with the intent of bringing you to orgasm now. He leaned over, pressing a kiss against your collarbone and then your neck, as he reached your ear.
"You gotta cum for me, sweetheart. C'mon, baby, soak my cock. Be a good girl and cum for me. Please, wanna feel you, need to feel you," He whispered softly, as he continued to work your clit. He listened again to the signature uptick in heart rate, the tightening of your muscles around his cock. God, did you feel good. He wasn't going to last much longer.
Your hands wrapped around his neck as you came to your end, a desperate attempt to ground yourself. You moaned his name as you came, claiming your orgasm as his. Something snapped within him as you cried his name, something dark. He'd been holding himself back slightly, afraid he'd hurt you, scare you away. But your name out of his mouth as he brought you to orgasm was too much.
He needed to let the devil out.
As you began coming down from your orgasm haze, all of the sudden, Matt growled. His hand left your clit to immediately find your neck, wrapping his hands around the vulnerable skin. Your eyes widened, taken aback at the sudden gesture, but you weren't scared. You almost wished you were; the sight of Matt teeth bared, hand around your neck should have been terrifying. But it wasn't.
It was hot.
"Y-you're fucking mine," Matt mumbled as his thrusts increased, chasing his own end at a rapid pace. You couldn't do anything but lay there and take it, and you liked that. Matt was in control, Matt was taking control. If you hadn't just came, you were sure those words would have made you reach your end on the spot.
"S-say it. Say you're m-mine," He ordered, his hand squeezing around your throat.
"I'm yours, Matt. I'm yours," You whispered in the darkness, causing him to cry out in pleasure. He grabbed your hips, thrusting himself deep inside as he came, painting your walls with his seed. He thrusted in and out one more time, before releasing your throat, and collapsing on top of you. You instinctively wrapped your arms around him, one of your hands raking your way into his hair, as he came down from your high. Abruptly, Matt stood up, scoping you up from where you two laid, and bringing you to the couch. You sat on his lap as he pressed you against his chest, one of his hands finding its way to the top of your head.
"Oh my god, I'm so sorry, I don't... I'm so sorry," He stuttered out, raking his way through your hair.
"Why are you sorry?" You whispered back, wrapping your hands around his neck to bring you closer to him. His face was panicked, eyes flickering back and forth. He was probably scared he'd gone too far, hurt you or scared you away. He needed reassurance, praise, and now it was your turn to give it.
"Matt, it was incredible. I loved every second, ok?" You pressed a small kiss to his temple, bringing his face down to your lips.
"Are you sure I didn't hurt you? I didn't mean to, I just snapped, and-"
"I liked it, Matt. All of it. I like you."
You didn't mean for that last part to slip out, to confess your feelings so soon. But Matt smiled in response, using his arms to bring you even closer against him. He kissed your forehead, then your nose, then your cheek, causing you to giggle. He kissed his way down all the way to your lips, giving you a quick peck before responding.
"I like you too."