Chapter 3
Chapter Three
He was still in the past when he woke up the next day. His throat still felt sore. From Mark’s cock. It had been real.
Kit lay in his bed for a while, thinking about the best course of action.
He could do as Mark said and pretend that nothing had happened. That was what he would have done in his original past. He would have been too scared and embarrassed to pursue the man. But now he knew better. Pride only led to loneliness, to that quiet, suffocating misery he’d lived with for years.
This was his chance to do it right. To seize fate with both hands and wrench it onto a different path.
He could do it.
Filled with new determination, Kit strode to his closet.
He pulled out the sluttiest outfit he owned: his tightest jeans and a thin blue shirt, almost see-through.
He slipped them on and studied himself in the mirror.
The shirt’s wide collar drew the eye to the smooth, delicate skin of his collarbones, and his nipples were visible beneath the fabric.
His ass looked utterly bitable in those jeans.
Kit grinned. Perfect.
When he sat down in his usual front-row seat, Mark didn’t glance his way.
But Kit noticed the subtle tension in his shoulders and jaw, the careful way he avoided coming anywhere near Kit’s seat.
Indifference would have crushed him. This wasn’t indifference.
This meant Mark felt something for him. That was all the encouragement Kit needed.
He wrote Mark another letter. This one was longer. Braver.
I’ve been in love with you for years. I know you think that I’m just being young and stupid, but I’m not.
I know what I want. I want you, Mark. I’ve never wanted anyone like this.
I wanted you from the moment you first looked at me.
Not love at first sight—I don’t believe in that.
More like instant, ridiculous lust. And the more I got to know you, the worse it got.
I love everything about you—your voice, your quirks, even that signature “I’m surrounded by idiots” look you give students. You know, the thin lips, the eyebrows doing that judgmental little dip. I’m embarrassed to admit it, but I even love the way you hold a pen.
Have I horrified you yet? I promise I don’t stare on purpose. My brain does it automatically. I look, and I want. I want you. I want to be with you.
Kit handed in the letter instead of his assignment.
This time, Mark didn’t even glance at him when he accepted it.
But Kit watched him read it. Mark’s expression was carefully blank, but Kit saw a muscle in his cheek twitch.
When class was over, Kit didn’t move from his seat while the other students left.
Finally, it was just the two of them.
The silence stretched, thick and charged, while his professor tried to pretend Kit wasn’t there.
“Class is over,” Mark finally said stiffly, still without looking at him. “Vacate the classroom before the cleaning crew arrives.”
Kit got to his feet and walked forward. Then he perched himself on Mark’s desk.
“Mr. Keaton,” Mark ground out, glaring at him. He looked furious, but he couldn’t hide the way his eyes flicked down to Kit’s exposed collarbones and nipples.
Kit smiled at him. “Have you read my letter? What did you think of it?”
Mark’s lips pressed into a tight line. “I already told you I don’t want to see letters like this. If you keep persisting with this nonsense, I’ll have no choice but to report you to the dean.”
“It’s not nonsense,” Kit said softly, shivering from the intense, almost scalding look Mark gave him. “I want you.”
“Remove yourself from my desk,” Mark said evenly. Too evenly.
Kit shook his head with a smile. “You can touch me, you know. I know you want to. I want you to.” Looking Mark in the eye, he thumbed his own nipple through his thin shirt, his cock throbbing at the lewdness of his own behavior. “Touch me, sir. Want your mouth on me.”
As though in a trance, Mark leaned forward and bit Kit’s nipple through his shirt.
Kit gasped, grabbing his professor’s hair and pulling his mouth closer. Mark pushed his shirt up and latched onto his bare nipple, sucking harshly. Kit keened. Oh god, oh god, oh god.
“Want you,” he moaned breathlessly, slipping a hand between them and pawing at Mark’s cock. It felt huge. And so hard. He wanted that in him. “Wanna fuck.”
“You’re crazy,” Mark gritted out, but he shoved him flat onto the desk, his mouth still on his nipple, sucking it, biting it, his strong hand groping his chest, his stomach, before cupping Kit’s crotch.
Kit moaned, grinding against his palm helplessly. “Please please please. Fuck me.”
Mark went rigid against him before tearing himself away. He was breathing heavily, his eyes wild and hungry as they roamed over Kit. A muscle throbbed by his temple. “This is madness,” he ground out, glancing at the door. “Get out before someone sees you spread on my desk like a whore.”
Kit flushed. But the obscenity, the slut-shaming only made him harder. More reckless.
He cupped his crotch and stroked it lewdly. “I don’t care if I look like a whore. See what you do to me?”
Mark swallowed, his cheeks flushed brick-red and his gaze dark. Resentful. Heated. “Stop that at once.”
Kit didn’t stop, stroking his cock through his pants and moaning filthily.
Part of him couldn’t believe he really was doing it: touching himself in front of his professor like a cat in heat.
Everything about it—the wrongness, the depravity, the sheer patheticness—only turned him on more.
Fuck, if he’d known how hot it was, he’d have given up his pride years ago.
“Please,” he babbled, grinding against his hand desperately.
“Touch me. Fuck me. I’m yours, I wanna be yours, wanna be on my back crushed under you, taking your cock all day long. ”
Mark looked like he wanted to kill him. But he didn’t look away even for a moment, his eyes searing him. His single-minded focus on him was intoxicating. Kit yanked his jeans open and pulled out his cock. Looking Mark in the eye, he moaned, stroking his heated flesh. So fucking hard.
“Jesus,” Mark said, looking pained. “You’re shameless.”
Kit felt like he was unraveling. Mark’s intense, judgmental, heavy gaze was like a drug. He was shameless. He was behaving like a slut. He didn’t care.
“Please,” he begged, working his cock faster. “Please, sir.”
A muscle twitched in Mark’s jaw. He stepped forward and grabbed Kit’s chin, painfully hard. He just looked at him for a long moment, his intense gaze like a physical touch. “Come,” he commanded at last.
And Kit did. Arching, he came with a groan, pleasure making his toes curl.
When he regained his brain functions and opened his eyes, Mark was long gone.
But the scent of his cologne lingered. He could still feel the punishing grip on his chin.
Kit touched his chin with shaking fingers, and smiled.