Chapter 2 #2
In his previous past—previous life?—Kit would have relented, never daring to meet his professor’s eyes again after such a firm rejection.
But this was his second chance, and he couldn’t waste it. Mark hadn’t pushed him away immediately. That had to mean something, right?
Getting to his feet, Kit walked to the door. He looked at it for a moment before locking it. The click of a lock turning had never sounded so loud.
Mark watched Kit approach with grim eyes, his shoulders tense. “Mr. Keaton—”
“I want you,” Kit said, stopping in front of his professor. “I’ve been in love with you for years.”
Mark’s jaw clenched, his green eyes burning him. “It’s just a crush,” he finally said, his expression largely inscrutable. “Boys get them all the time and they mean nothing. It’ll pass.”
“I’m not a boy,” Kit said. “And I know what I feel.” Truth be told, fifteen years ago he’d hoped his feelings had been a passing crush, too.
He’d expected that he would meet other people—more suitable people—and fall in love with one of them.
But no such thing had happened. He’d never been even half as drawn to anyone as he was to this man.
Something about Mark Lawson felt right to him. Deep in his bones.
It felt right to sink to his knees in front of him. Kit laid his hands on Mark’s narrow hips and felt the other man go rigid. Lifting his eyes, he found Mark watching him in a dark, transfixed manner.
“Christopher—”
“Let me suck your cock,” Kit murmured in a low, tight voice, nuzzling the growing bulge in his professor’s pants greedily. It was so big already, and it wasn’t fully hard yet. “Please. I jerked myself raw thinking about choking on it.”
Mark’s Adam’s apple bobbed up and down. “You’re too young,” he said in a clipped voice. “You’re my student. This can’t happen.”
“Just once,” Kit lied, looking him in the eye. “No one will know. Please, sir.”
Got you, he thought with triumph when he felt the other man’s cock twitch against his lips, hardening fully. Before his professor could come to his senses, Kit unzipped Mark’s fly and freed his erection from the confines of his boxer-briefs.
Kit’s mouth watered. God, it was beyond obscene to see a thick, red cock jutting out of his professor’s fly.
Leaning in, Kit licked the fat head and lifted his gaze to his professor’s face.
Mark’s jaw was locked tightly, but he was staring at him in a transfixed manner, as if spellbound.
Keeping his eyes trained on him, Kit gave the cock a long, lewd lick.
“I’ve seen you look at me,” he murmured.
“You were very subtle, but I saw how you looked at me when I walked into your classroom years ago as a freshman. And you never stopped looking at me like that in any of the classes of yours I’ve taken. ”
“You’re delusional,” Mark said through his gritted teeth.
Kit licked the vein on the underside of his cock and gave him a cheeky smile. “If I were delusional, you wouldn’t be letting your student lick your cock in the middle of a lecture hall, sir.”
Mark’s gaze darkened. “You little…” he murmured, his hands grabbing Kit’s hair and pulling him roughly onto his cock.
Kit moaned around the rod in his mouth, unable to believe it was actually happening after years of wanting it and years of wistfully fantasizing about it.
He relaxed his mouth and throat, going completely pliant and just allowing his professor to fuck his mouth however he wanted it.
If he really had been twenty-one, it would have been too rough for him.
He would have choked. But Kit knew how to relax and angle his jaw, how to breathe properly and not choke no matter how deeply he was face-fucked.
He might not have had as much experience as he’d have liked, but he had some. He knew how to take cock.
And take the cock he did. Fuck, part of him couldn’t believe it was really Mark fucking his mouth in the middle of the school day, the flimsy door the only barrier between them and the rest of the student body.
Part of him couldn’t believe how rough the man was being.
When Kit had fantasized about having sex with his professor, it’d been gentle.
There was nothing gentle about the thrusts of the cock in his mouth.
Mark’s grip in his hair was punishing, full of anger or resentment.
But somehow, it only turned Kit on more.
Mark fucked him as if he hated him but couldn’t stop doing it.
It was exhilarating. It made him feel wanted. Wanted and desirable.
He watched hungrily as Mark’s eyes became glassy with pleasure. He was downright thrusting into his throat now, nasty and filthy, and Kit cupped his own cock through his jeans, grinding against it desperately. Fuck, yes, yes—
Bitter come filled his mouth, and Kit moaned, coming in his pants from the sheer thrill of it.
“Get out.” The cutting tone jolted him back to reality, breaking the haze of pleasure.
Kit opened his mouth and found himself tongue-tied looking at Mark’s stony face. “I…”
“This never happened,” Mark said tersely. “It should not have happened. Get out.”
Kit got to his feet. He opened and closed his mouth, but he had no idea what to say. How to act. What to do.
So he turned and left, his knees still unsteady.