Chapter 30 Emma
EMMA
At this point I’m nearly convinced that Professor A-hole is Daddy Dom. But how can that be? Could he have been in front of me this whole time? Or am I just wishing it was true because of my dirty dream about both the other night?
The walk across campus is short, my legs move quickly carrying me away from the theatre as my mind races with thoughts.
It would explain why Daddy Dom pulled back right after we met; I showed up in his class. And he never revealed who he was that first year because he was my teacher. There had to be rules against that.
His rules.
Oh my God, it makes so much more sense now. He was such an A-hole because he had to be, to protect himself. But why would he end things with me once I was no longer his student?
He started being so nice to me this past year. Was that his way of showing me the real him without the mask?
It would make sense if my professor was Daddy Dom, but I need to know for sure. Once I’m inside my apartment, I grab my phone and pull up our text thread.
I think there’s someone in my apartment.
Where are you right now?
Locked in my room.
I’m scared. Can you come over?
On my way.
Come to my window. I’ll let you in.
It should feel wrong to lie to him. If it is Professor A-hole, he’ll be here in minutes.
There’s a knock on my window shortly after and I open it quickly, helping him as he climbs in. He’s dressed in black, his hood pulled tight around his mask.
“You got here fast. I thought you were in the city.”
“I came as quickly as I could. Have you checked out the rest of the apartment? Where did you hear the noise?” He walks to the door, ready to investigate.
“I lied.”
He freezes, and I can see his shoulders and back expand with each breath. Slowly his head turns to me over his shoulder.
My heart is racing as I take a step toward him, pulling his arm and forcing him to turn toward me. “You’re wearing a Faith Union hoodie.” I point to the university logo. There’s only one reason why my masked dom would be wearing a hoodie for my school.
He unzips it slowly, tossing it to the ground as he bears his naked torso to me. I take another step toward him and reach out to trace the design of one of the tattoos on his chest. It’s a skull with a crown on it. I’ve seen it a half dozen times, but it looks oddly familiar now.
My eyes travel lower, noticing the other ink on his abdomen. The ink that Professor A-hole flashed in the scene shop earlier. My gaze slowly travels back up his chest as he grabs my wrist, guiding me as I trace the outline of the skull, and I watch as goosebumps pebble his flesh at my touch.
“It’s inspired by Hamlet,” he says. My heart is beating wildly in my chest, and electricity and lust courses through me at his words.
The Faith Union hoodie.
The Hamlet tattoo.
I reach up and gently lift his mask, tossing it to the ground.
It’s him.
A rush of emotions hit me at once. Relief. Triumph. Hurt. Confusion. Elation. Lust. But I don’t have any time to process them when he reaches out and cups my cheek.
There’s a boyish eagerness in his gentle brown eyes as he peers down at me. I’ve never seen my uptight professor look like this, like he’s unsure how this could play out, worried I might reject him.
He swipes his thumb back and forth as if I’m the most precious thing in the world to him.
I cover his skull tattoo with my hand, pressing my palm against his flesh as his rapidly beating heart vibrates under my touch.
His eyes are full of hope and longing, like he’s been waiting for this moment just as much as I was.
“I hoped it was you.” I barely get the words out before he’s pulling my mouth to his, threading his hands in my hair as he grips my neck and tilts my head so he has better access.
His tongue thrusts against mine, and I remember the way it felt just like this when he kissed me in the club.
He feels comfortable and familiar, yet new and unsure at the same time, and the dichotomy sends a bolt of lust straight to my panties.
“You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that. To kiss you, claim you, without some stupid mask in the way.”
His words are a balm to my soul. And I revel in them as he licks and nips at my neck.
“I don’t want anything between us. No more mask, no clothes, nothing else.”
He cocks a brow at me. “Nothing? What are you implying?”
I smile and nod. “I’ve never done this before, but I’m on birth control.” He claims my mouth in a bruising kiss.
“Are you sure?” he asks against my lips between kisses.
“Yes,” I moan as he licks a path down my neck.
“I get tested regularly for the club, and those have all been clear, but I haven’t had sex in at least six years,” he says against my shoulder.
I pull back, unsure if I heard him correctly. I’m not one to talk, I’ve never had sex, but the thought that this man who dominates women in a sex club has been celibate for years is unbelievable.
“I told you, I don’t fuck subs. What I do at Pulse is about more than just sex. You are the only person I’ve been intimate with there. The only one I’d break the rules for.”
He picks me up, carrying me to my bed as he gently sets me down, taking his time to undress me.
When he pulls down my panties, I grin at the look of pure adoration on his face.
I’m tempted to say something cheeky, but decide against it, not wanting to spoil the gravity of the moment.
He kisses down my stomach and around my hips causing me to buck and squirm.
When his head pops up, he locks eyes with mine. “Stay still, pet. I want to take my time worshipping this body knowing I’m the only man who ever has and ever will. And then I’m going to devour this perfect virgin cunt so you’re ready for me.”
“I want that too,” I murmur as he continues licking and kissing me.
It’s so hard to stay still, but I understand why he needs this, needs me to submit to him.
I squeeze my eyes shut, forcing myself to focus on the stroke of his tongue against me and I gasp in surprise as he slowly moves lower, hovering just over my clit.
With just one lick up my slit, I’m a shuddering mess, grabbing fistfuls of sheets as I fight the urge to writhe under him. “Yes. Feels so good, sir,” I moan.
He pulls back just an inch, and I look down at him for approval.
“I can feel how much you’re trying to be good for me, and it makes my cock hard.
Now I need you to make a mess of my face, pet.
Use my lips, my mouth. Ride them how you need.
Make yourself come and fall apart on my tongue. Show me how bad you need it.”
And then he descends on me, licking and sucking and it all feels so good. Just when I think it can’t get any better, he pushes two fingers into me, crooking them against my inner wall as he rubs and pulses them against my G-spot.
“There!” I cry as my orgasm builds and I close my eyes, tiny spots of light dancing against my eyelids as white-hot pleasure pulses up my spine.
His tongue flicks rapidly against my clit as my orgasm barrels through me like a train at top speed.
I’m powerless against it as I buck and cry against him.
“So fucking beautiful when you fall apart for me,” he says against my skin, kissing my thighs, my hips, as he works his way up my body. He stops when he gets to my breasts. “You never cease to amaze me, pet. When I first saw these perfect tits, and realized they were pierced? Fuuuuck.”
The coarse hair of his beard tickles my skin as he licks around the fleshy parts of my breast, taking his time to tease and nip at the skin, without touching me where I want him most.
“Tell me what you want, pet.”
“I want you to play with my nipples. Tease them, lick them, suck on them until I can’t take it anymore,” I say in a rush, surprising myself with how forward I’m being.
A cocky grin lights up his handsome face. I’ve been staring at this man in class and in rehearsals for almost two years, wanting him more than anything, and not realizing who he really was.
He pulls a nipple into his mouth, using his tongue to slide my piercing back and forth, while his other hand pinches and plays with my other nipple. “Oh, sweet cheese and rice,” I gasp as he sucks harder.
I can feel him chuckle against my skin. “I think I’d lose my mind if I heard you moan ‘fuck.’ But it would undo me if you moaned my name,” he says, leaning over my face. “Can you do that for me?” His face is earnest, full of longing as he slowly leans down to kiss me.
“Is that a command?” I bat my eyelashes, pausing to emphasize the next word, because I know what it does to him. “Sir.”
“That bratty fucking mouth. Don’t make me punish you, pet.”
“Yes, sir,” I purr, reaching down to grip him through his pants.
“Oh, fuck, I need a second,” he groans sitting back as he lets out a deep breath.
I push up on my elbows until I’m sitting in front of him, reaching to undo his belt.
“I don’t know what it is about you that has me wanting to come in my pants like a goddamn teenage boy.”
“I think it’s kind of flattering.” I smile up at him. “Plus, I’ve never done this before, so I’d kind of like to return the favor, but I’m going to need you to talk me through it.”
“Jesus Christ, I’m never going to last if you keep talking like that.”
“Please, sir,” I say, giving him my best pouty lips.
He exhales slowly, as if it pains him to speak.
“We’ll have time for that later. I’ll show you exactly how much I’d love your lips wrapped around my cock.
But right now, I want nothing more in the world than to fill you up.
I need to be inside of you. Need to feel you pulsing around my cock as you come. ”
“I need that too,” I beg as I help him unzip his pants and pull them off, throwing them haphazardly onto the floor.
His cock juts out proud, straining up his stomach as I reach to grab it and he hisses. “Please, I’ve never—”
“Fuck, are you telling me you’ve never even touched a cock before?”