"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.
Belatedly, I noticed his thumb stroking my cheek. It felt too good. His soft caress was a stark contradiction to his less than soft expression, and that opposition made me crave him even more. There was something about soft caresses and a stern face that got me going.
"I didn't say it was your fault," he commented; his voice gruff. I could tell my answer affected him as soon as he closed the last distance between us, his hard cock evident against my stomach. "I feel the same way about you," he confessed. "Do you have any idea how many times I've had to hide my hard-on from the other students? Do you know how much you torture me with your sexy body that I can't touch, and your sinful plump mouth that I can't kiss? It's fucking hell having you this close, but not being able to do anything to get you closer."
The hand on my cheek moved behind my head, his fingers squeezing my nape with enough strength to force another moan out of me. Soft caresses were heavenly, but firm ones? Those were my kryptonite.
For a moment, all we did was stare at each other, so close our breath mingled. I could taste his minty breath, and he could taste mine. The room was thick with tension, it was almost tangible; it was enfolding us, pushing us against each other by an invisible hand.
My lungs were fighting for air, but he was taking my breath away, little by little. It felt like something had changed between us. There was something...more, something heavier in the air. My head got dizzy from it, and goosebumps rose as the tension between us grew tighter, and tighter.
There was this attraction between us that was impossible to ignore. It had always been there, since the second I felt him behind me on my first night at Desire's Den. It wouldn't go away simply because we were on a break. It wouldn't vanish just because I had now become his student. Frankly, I think that was part of why this attraction seemed stronger now, more...explosive than before, because there was a new element mixed into this; the forbidden. After all, we humans always wanted what we couldn't have, it was in our nature.
"We shouldn't be doing this," I begged, though, I didn't know what I was begging for; for him to take the kiss I so desperately wanted to give him, or for him to pull away because I was too weak to do it myself.
He leaned down, his mouth just an inch from me. "You're right. We shouldn't." I could feel his words against my lips a second before he slammed his lips against mine. The second I tasted him, was the moment I lost myself to him. My mind was empty; there were no thoughts plaguing me, no worries or cares that I'd been troubled by these last weeks.
Mateo was anything but sweet as he took and took and took. It seemed like he wouldn't be satisfied until he devoured me completely. He was greedy, insatiable and I was powerless as I offered up everything I had to him.
No. There was nothing sweet about this. This was hunger and desperation and longing all mixed into a volatile cocktail of lust.
I wanted to drown in him. I wanted to never, ever come up for air. I didn't need it as long as I had his mouth against mine.
Groaning, he fisted my hair and attacked my lips. The sting in my scalp made me gasp in pleasure pain, and he took the opportunity to slide his tongue into my mouth. I sucked on it, wishing it was something bigger—something harder I was sucking on.
My body screamed for more. More, more, more. It wouldn't feel enough until he was inside of me, thrusting into my wet heat. "Please," I whined, clawing at his arms to get him as close to me as possible.
With his lips and hands on me, I forgot everything but him. There was no stalker, no creepy gifts, and scary texts. There was no fear or hopelessness. It was just us and our desperation to consume each other.
His hands found their way to my ass, and he squeezed them with a strong dash of possessiveness. His action brought another moan out of me, and then another as one of his hands slid from my ass to my front, cupping my pussy through my jeans. He pressed his palm against my clit, massaging it through the rough material of my pants.
"Fuck. You're killing me, Gorgeous," Mateo groaned.
I stiffened in his arms, as if my brain had restarted and my mind was now reminding me why this wasn't a good idea.
"What's wrong?" He pulled away from me, sensing that something had changed. I instantly missed his closeness.
"We shouldn't be doing this," I said, echoing my words from earlier, only this time it wasn't indecisive or full of need, it was a statement. I shook my head, my eyes pleading with him to understand something he had no knowledge on to fully and truly understand it. "I-I'm sorry, but I can't. I need to go."
I didn't hesitate as I grabbed my bag and went, my steps hurried. I forced myself to not look back and keep going, because if I didn't, I was afraid of what I would do next.
It was difficult walking away from him, my body practically screamed in despair. The only thing that made it impossible for me to turn around and continue where we left off, were the threats hanging over their heads.
With each step, my jeans rubbed uncomfortably against my throbbing clit, effectively reminding me of what we'd done. I'd been weak for him when I had to stay strong.
"Damn it," I cursed, feeling sexually frustrated and angry at the person keeping me away from my men.
Tonight, after my shift at Gideon's club, I would bring out my favorite vibrator and have the orgasm my body so desperately needed. I refused to let my stalker take my pleasure away from me like he'd done with everything else. First, I just needed to get through being in close proximity to Gideon. Let's just hope I could get through the night without kissing him, or fucking him. My will was now on a thin thread, especially after the fire Mateo had lit in me.