Chapter 15
Chapter Fifteen
Anthea
I had no idea why I dreamed about Silas.
Maybe because he'd been popping up in my life so much lately.
The dream was ridiculous: I stood at the front of the classroom in my teacher uniform, facing a room full of students who weren't first-graders but adults, men and women whose features blurred into nothing.
Suddenly, I felt a presence under the lectern. My heart skipped as Silas emerged from beneath it, his broad shoulders brushing against the wood. He didn't say a word, just locked eyes with me, that predatory grin spreading across his face.
I was wearing my blue pencil skirt and white blouse, the fabric hugging my curves, and he wasted no time.
His strong hands slid up my thighs, pushing the skirt higher until it bunched around my waist. The cool air hit my skin, but it was nothing compared to the heat of his breath as he hooked his fingers into my panties and tugged them down my legs.
I gasped, trying to stay composed, but his head dipped between my thighs. I felt the rough scrape of his stubble against my inner thighs as he positioned himself. The students watched, their faceless forms staring blankly.
I had to keep teaching, had to pretend everything was normal. "Today, we're discussing the Renaissance masters," I started, my voice shaky as his tongue flicked out, teasing the sensitive folds of my pussy.
His mouth closed over me, hot and wet, enveloping my clit in a slow, deliberate suck.
I gripped the edges of the lectern, my knuckles white, as I felt his head bobbing rhythmically beneath it.
The warmth of his tongue delved deeper, lapping at my entrance, swirling in circles that made my knees buckle.
Wet sounds echoed faintly, but I forced myself to keep going.
"Leonardo da Vinci's use of chiaroscuro... creates depth and emotion in his works." My words came out breathy, interrupted by the way his lips sealed around me, sucking harder, his tongue thrusting inside like he owned every inch.
I bit my lip to stifle a moan, but it slipped out anyway. "Silas," I panted, my voice barely above a whisper, glancing down.
He looked up, his deep gray eyes piercing mine, filled with raw hunger that sent shivers racing down my spine. It was like he wanted to devour me whole, pull me into his darkness, and never let go. His gaze held me captive, making my core clench around his invading tongue.
Then came the sudden intensity—a fierce suck on my clit, followed by a gentle nip of his teeth that bordered on pain.
I cried out softly, the book in my hands slipping from my fingers and thudding onto the lectern.
The sound echoed in the room, and one of the faceless students raised a hand. "Ms. Carter, is everything okay?"
I swallowed hard, forcing a smile. "Nothing's wrong. Just... dropped my notes." I snatched the book back up, my hands trembling as I tried to drown out the slick, slurping noises from below with louder lecturing.
"Michelangelo's Sistine Chapel ceiling... the dynamic poses capture human anatomy in motion!"
But my voice shook, rising in pitch with every flick of his tongue, every pull of his mouth that built the pressure inside me. The students murmured, but I powered through, my hips subtly rocking against his face despite myself.
The orgasm hit like a wave, crashing over me. My thighs quivered, clenching around his head as I came hard, juices flooding his mouth. I bit back a scream, disguising it as a cough, my body shuddering while I clung to the lectern for dear life.
Silas finally pulled back, emerging from under the desk. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, his lips glistening with my arousal. "Ms. Carter's wet," he announced to the class, his voice low and commanding. "This lesson's switching to physiology."
Before I could protest, he swept the lesson plans off the lectern with one arm, papers scattering everywhere. He grabbed me by the waist, hoisting me onto the surface like I weighed nothing. The students watched, their featureless faces tilting with interest.
Silas didn't hesitate. He yanked open my white blouse, buttons popping free, exposing my lace bra. His fingers deftly unhooked it, letting my breasts spill out, nipples hardening in the cool air.
He pushed me back gently but firmly, spreading my legs wide.
The blue skirt was still hiked up, my pussy on full display.
"Look," he said to the class, his voice clinical yet laced with lust as he used his fingers to part my folds, stretching me open.
"This is the structure of a pussy. See the clit here?
Sensitive as hell. And the entrance... tight, wet, ready for more. "
I felt dozens of eyes on me, even though they had no features—the weight of their excitement burned into my skin, making me flush hotter.
Humiliation mixed with arousal, my body betraying me as fresh wetness pooled under his touch.
Silas leaned in, his breath hot against my ear.
"You're dripping for them, aren't you? For me. "
He didn't stop there. His pants came undone in a flash, his thick cock springing free, hard and veined, the tip already leaking pre-cum.
He positioned himself between my legs, rubbing the head against my slick entrance, teasing me until I whimpered.
"Please," I begged, forgetting the audience, my hips arching toward him.
With a grunt, he thrust in deep, filling me completely in one stroke.
I moaned, loud and unrestrained, as he set a brutal pace, pounding into me on the lectern.
The wood creaked under us, my breasts bouncing with every slam.
His hands gripped my thighs, holding me open as he drove harder, the wet slap of our bodies echoing through the room.
"Feel that?" he growled to the class. "This is how you fuck a woman senseless."
The students leaned in, their invisible gazes intensifying the exposure.
Silas's cock stretched me, hitting that spot inside that made stars burst behind my eyes.
He reached down, thumb circling my clit in time with his thrusts, building me up again.
Sweat beaded on his forehead, his muscles flexing under his shirt as he claimed me publicly.
I clawed at his back, nails digging in, lost in the rhythm.
"Silas... harder," I gasped, and he obliged, slamming deeper, his balls slapping against me.
The pressure built, coiling tight in my core, until finally, with one last powerful thrust, I shattered.
My pussy clenched around him, milking his cock as waves of pleasure ripped through me.
He followed seconds later, groaning as he spilled inside, hot and thick, our bodies locked in ecstasy.
But the dream didn't end there. Silas pulled out slowly, his cum dripping from me, and he wasn't done educating.
He dipped his fingers into the mess, holding them up.
"See the aftermath? That's satisfaction.
" The class nodded, or at least their forms shifted in approval.
He turned back to me, kissing my neck, marking me again as his.
I writhed under him, the exposure heightening every sensation.
He flipped me over onto my stomach, the lectern hard against my breasts, and entered me from behind.
His hands roamed my ass, spanking lightly at first, then harder, the sting blending with pleasure.
"This angle hits deeper," he explained casually, as if it were a real lesson.
His cock plunged in, filling me anew, the friction building fast.
The students' energy pulsed around us, feeding my arousal.
Silas gripped my hair, pulling my head back, exposing my throat as he fucked me relentlessly.
I pushed back against him, meeting every thrust, our bodies slick with sweat.
His free hand snaked around to pinch my nipples, twisting just enough to make me cry out.
Another orgasm built, slower this time, drawn out by his deliberate pace. He varied it—slow, teasing strokes followed by rapid, punishing ones. "Watch how she responds," he said, voice rough. "Every woman's different, but Anthea... she loves it rough."
I did. God, I did. The dream blurred the lines between shame and desire, the faceless watchers amplifying the thrill. Silas sped up, his breath ragged, and I came again, screaming his name as my walls fluttered around him. He buried himself deep, releasing with a low growl, flooding me once more.
"Ah!" I jolted awake.
Daylight had broken. Morning light squeezed through the curtain gaps, casting a bright streak across the room.
I lay in bed, panting hard, heart racing like I'd just finished a marathon. Damn, good thing it was only a dream. I shut my eyes, trying to steady my breathing. But the images lingered—getting taken on the lectern in front of students... I couldn't think about it.
My body ached, soft and tingly, a familiar buzz spreading from my belly like I'd actually gone through a wild night. I shifted, then froze. My panties were soaked!
"Damn it!" I muttered, covering my face with my hand.
My body had betrayed me—just dreaming about that man inside me got me wet. I shook my head, trying to shake off Silas's aggressive eyes. But it didn't work.
I punched the bed in frustration. Time to find a guy. Get this crap out of my system so I wouldn't have these stupid dreams. But the first face that popped up was still him. Silas.
I groaned and buried my face in the pillow.
After a bit, I pushed down the chaos inside. I padded barefoot to the bathroom, turned on the faucet, and splashed cold water on my face. The woman in the mirror looked flushed, eyes still misty, like she'd just been satisfied.
"Anthea Carter, you're losing it," I muttered to the air. "Six years without a man, and you're this desperate? One wet dream turns you into this?"