26. King of My Heart
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
king of my heart
ROMAN
Imogen and her little yellow sundress are making it very hard to focus on finishing this lecture. My eyes are immediately drawn to her playful smirk, but when she uncrosses her legs, I get the slightest glimpse of her bare pussy.
Christ.
I clear my throat, realizing I’ve stopped in the middle of the lecture and return to check my notes. I’m sweating bullets underneath my shirt, and the only saving grace is that it’s a very dark navy.
That’s when I see my phone light up.
IMOGEN: When everyone’s gone, will you fuck me on that table?
IMOGEN: Please, Professor?
I think I may have forgotten how to breathe.
IMOGEN: You might want to pick your jaw up off the floor, first.
I know I deserve this for the stunt I pulled at the coffee shop, and there’s a part of me that loves it, but she’s really not making my job easy. I grab my water bottle and down the entire thing in a few gulps.
“Does anyone have any questions about anything I’ve covered so far? I know this stuff is dense.”
I’m praying somebody can lob me a softball that can help to get us back on track. Instead, all I get is another message.
IMOGEN: You’re pretty when you blush, cowboy.
Sunlight shines through the stained glass, making her glow in a soft kaleidoscope of pink, coral, and aquamarine.
I want to end class early, bend her over this table, and devour her from behind.
“Dr. Burke? I have a question.”
Finally, someone to save me from this nightmare.
“Yes!” I bark, a little too enthusiastically. “Sorry, you guys know how excited I can get about questions. Go ahead.”
“Foucault says that punishment produces positive effects. Am— am I reading that right?”
My phone lights up and I can’t keep my eyes from darting down to it.
IMOGEN: Do you think punishment would benefit me, Doctor?
I’m finding It difficult to get my brain into the right gear when all of Imogen’s texts are burning into the back of my eyes.
“Yes,” I reply, locking my phone. “We have to think of punishment , not as just some repressive force, which it is— but also as something that’s…”
There are so many ways I could punish her. Right now, I’m considering gagging her with my cock until tears stream down her face.
“Dr. Burke?”
“Yeah,” I rasp. “Sorry. Proponents of punishment say that it benefits society because it can reduce crime and deviance, but it also subjugates people and asserts power, as well as control over populations. That’s a big positive for the state, right? But Foucault argues that punishment has shifted from these giant spectacles of public torture and executions to something quieter. It’s not about the state punishing more, it’s about punishing better. We want to be good citizens, we want to obey, we want to be productive citizens. Why do you think that is?”
The student glances down at her laptop, scrolling through her notes.
“Because subjugation is embedded into us?”
“Exactly! So, the book isn’t really about prisons and punishment, it's about power, and how it flows through every institution that touches our lives. Does that help?”
“I think so, yeah. Thanks.”
It must be 3:20, because suddenly everyone’s packing up. Thank god.
“Alright, we’ll pick back up next week. I want you all to keep plugging away at Foucault. I know he’s tough, but look at the supplementary materials on the course website. I put some podcasts up there, and some videos as well.”
Some students are already halfway out the door as I begin gathering my things, answering a few questions as I go. Imogen has a small crowd around her, chatting about the paper and handling it all with a radiant smile.
She’s pure goddamn sunshine.
I wonder what I did to deserve someone like her… and then I pull that thought all the way back, because she’s not really mine. We’re just fooling around.
“Imogen, can you stay behind?” I ask, waiting until the last of the students are almost out the door. “I want to go over some things with you.”
“Sure, Dr. Burke.”
We go about our respective tasks until the door finally closes, leaving us both standing in silence, staring at each other.
Waiting.
I can hear the blood roaring in my ears, anticipation sinking its claws into the back of my neck. I only last a few moments before I snatch her by the waist and pull her to me, devouring her in a hungry kiss. She gets me back with equal ferociousness as I pin her against the table; my mind swims with thoughts of her soft lips, strawberry lipgloss, and that fucking tongue that not so long ago was so expertly swirling around my cock.
“What the hell were you thinking sending me that shit?” I bite down on her earlobe, sucking until the sweetest sound pours from her mouth. “Hmm? Answer me.”
My hands are everywhere, gliding up her thighs and sliding back around to grip her ass as hard as I can, all while she’s grinding on my knee. She looks like a woman possessed, eyes gleaming as she grins with a supreme confidence.
“You loved every second of it, cowboy.”
My cock is already desperate to be touched, but I’m going to see how long I can hold out.
“Turn around and put your hands on the table.”
“Yes, Professor.”
Fuck .
It sounds so good coming from those gorgeous lips. I grab her arm, twisting it behind her back and pushing her against the table. She yelps and glances over her shoulder, but it’s only a moment before she’s flashing me another cocky smile.
“I take it you like being called that, Professor .”
I lower myself to my knees, my cock aching.
“As long as it’s coming from you, darlin’, it all sounds like music to my ears. Now spread your legs and flip your skirt up. I wanna see all of you.”
I start to trail my lips up the back of one thigh, gently nipping at it. She wiggles her plump little ass right in my face and I reach up and smack it hard enough to make her moan.
Suddenly, I catch the faintest sound of voices outside and I freeze. I can’t tell if they’re coming closer, or simply passing by, but either way there’s only one thought in my head now: this is so fucking dangerous.
If a student walked in, it would all be over.
My heart slams against my chest and my stomach is in knots, but before I can rationalize my way into stopping, Imogen takes control of the situation.
“Someone could walk in, Dr. Burke.”
She heard them too, but there’s absolutely no fear in her eyes. Just excitement.
“If they did, all they’d see is you bent over this table, moaning like a little slut.”
She gasps, dragging her fingernails along the top of the table as I spread her cheeks and spit on her asshole.
“Do you like being called that, slut ?”
“Yes, Professor,” she whines.
This woman brings out something depraved in me, and I’m really starting to enjoy who I become when I’m with her. I’ve never been this dominant with a partner, and I’m flying by the seat of my pants, but it’s more than just the feeling of something novel. I feel secure in a way I’ve rarely ever felt before.
Confident.
“Keep your eyes on the door, we don’t want anyone interrupting my meal.”
Her giggle makes me smile, butterflies stirring up my stomach. I have to admit, it’s been a long time since I talked this dirty to someone.
I glide my fingers along her pussy lips, using just enough pressure to torment her without giving too much.
“I didn’t get to taste all of you last time,” I murmur, sliding one finger inside of her and pumping it slowly, in and out.
“Dirty boy,” she rasps.
I press down against her G-spot, her legs quivering as she turns her head to face me. Before she can react I reach out and smack her ass hard enough to leave a palm print on her pristine skin.
“I said eyes on the door.”
“Yes, sir.”
Her breath hitches and she crushes another whimper as I slowly pull my finger out of her. I lick her all the way from her clit to her tight little asshole, focusing on making delicate circles with the tip of my tongue. Imogen responds with the most ragged, feral sound I’ve heard come out of her.
“You like that?”
“Holy fuck!” She grunts, her hips rocking against my face. “Don’t stop! Please don’t fucking stop!”
I return to her pussy, flicking her clit faster as I relish the way it throbs against my tongue. She tastes sharp and sweet all at once, and her little moans and whines only make my heart pound faster and faster. My cock’s been straining, begging to be touched since I started, but I keep my hands on her. I can wait.
I will wait.
“Yes!” She cries. “Fuck, just like that! Please, please?—”
I pull away and give her ass another rough slap, Imogen pounding her fist against the table, and I hear a deep growl rumble through her as I get to my feet. She’s glaring at me over her shoulder, those warm eyes suddenly hardened and cold.
“You fucking?—”
“Talk back to me again and you won’t come for the rest of the week,” I reply, unzipping my jeans and glancing at the door a final time before gliding my cock between her pussy lips.
“Please, Professor!” She begs, her voice soft and demure. “I’m sorry, I’ll be such a good girl.”
Deep down inside I want someone to hear us, to hear her screaming for me. As terrified as I am to get caught, the idea’s begun to make me more excited than it probably should.
“You’re the one who started this, darlin’. I’m just giving you a real taste of your own medicine. Now where are the?—”
“No condoms,” she grunts. “Fuck me bare.”
The words take a second to land.
“Bare?”
“That’s what I said.” She turns around, hopping up onto the table. “That’s what I want.”
“You— you want?—”
“I want all of you. No barriers.” She spreads her legs, her smile full of confidence, but I can still see a flicker of vulnerability in her eyes. I feel like she’s been thinking about this for a while. “I’ve tested negative, I’m on birth control, and I haven’t been with anyone else in nearly half a year.”
My throat is so fucking dry and my head spins.
“Longer for me.”
She grabs my wrist and pulls me toward her, winding her legs around my waist.
“Then fuck me like I’m yours, Roman.”
I guess things might be a little less casual than I thought.
Our kiss is feverish, the perfect prelude before I thrust into her with a punishing amount of force. I watch as her head rocks back, and enjoy the show as a moan springs from the depths of her throat. I feel my entire body sing her praises as my nerves light up one after the other; my hands glide up her waist and she cups her breasts, teasing her pierced nipples as we set a manic and desperate rhythm.
“Fuck, Roman!” She screams as I lean over, taking her nipple in my mouth and biting down hard.
I press my thighs into the table and push my palms into the rough wood to get more friction. My hips crash against hers over and over and over again, hard enough to leave bruises, but judging by the look on her face, she doesn’t want me to stop. In fact, she looks so frenzied I think she might even kill me if I did.
My balls ache, my cock throbbing inside of her as I teeter right on the edge, but I have to make her come first. I pull back and lick my thumb, pressing it down on her clit and working it in quick and intense circles. She has one hand clamped over her mouth to keep from making too much noise, but I don’t give a fuck if someone walks in anymore.
My vision goes fuzzy around the edges as I come, but I can still see her lavender hair shimmering in the refracted sunlight all the way to the end. She’s angelic, sweat glistening on her skin, her cheeks the prettiest shade of pink I’ve ever seen, and as my body works through the dying embers of my orgasm, I lay myself down next to her.
“I want to take you away for the weekend. No secrets, no sneaking around. Just the two of us.”
I feel a pang of regret the second the words spill out of me, yearning to take them back. Maybe it’s too much, too intense for her this quickly. We’re friends with benefits. We play mini golf, we fuck, and that’s it.
She gazes over at me, her eyes gleaming with something between confusion and interest. Is it pity? Of course it is. She’s going to say no, and I’m going to have to pretend like she didn’t didn’t break my goddamn heart.
But Imogen just smiles, showing off that little crooked tooth.
“I’d follow you anywhere, cowboy.”