Chapter Eight
Walker
Jesus Christ, I’m going to hell. I just ended my class fifteen minutes early because my cock is rock hard. What the fuck am I doing?
Rosie bounces down the lecture steps, a big smile on her face, her breasts bouncing, that soft red hair wavy behind her.
“You did great, little girl.” I lean and kiss her forehead, realizing in the moment we haven’t even had a proper kiss yet.
Lord, this is messed up. I’ve skipped so many steps. So many steps she deserves.
If I’m going to do this, which I clearly am, I need to slow it down. I know that. My body, though, doesn’t get the memo. My body reacts the same way it did the other night, except this time it’s more eager, more desperate.
I grip her waist and lift her up onto the corner of my desk, watching her expression change from happy little angel to needy little devil in a matter of seconds.
She’s against my lips, my hands are in her hair, our tongues are wild, and though anyone could walk in at any second, there’s no way I can stop. It’s like my intellectual brain is offline and someone else has taken over.
Even the sounds I’m making don’t sound like me. They’re broken, wild, and hungry.
My cock presses forward, and she grabs hold of it with her tiny little hand. “It looks like you’re having more urges, professor. Should I take care of these for you?”
Fucking hell.
My dick pulses against her soft palm as she unzips my slacks with a squeal, letting them drop to the floor in the lecture hall.
“You’ve made me jealous, little girl. Letting that boy flirt with you.” My jaw clenches. “I took it easy on your punishment, but now… you’re going to make me come.”
My heart slams against my chest. This is wrong. This is super fucking wrong. A student, Dean Andrews, anyone, could walk in at any moment and I’d be totally fucked. Everything I’ve worked for would be gone. For some reason, none of that stops me.
In fact, I keep moving like this all makes complete sense. I tuck my hand between her thick thighs, tug her panties to the side, and drive my hard cock into her tight, little, virgin pussy with no condom, like I have every right to be there.
“Ouch!” She swallows hard as she pants.
Guilt washes over me. I’m not being careful.
Jesus Christ, Walker. She’s a virgin.
A moment of clarity surfaces with her pain. “I’m so sorry. I’m—”
“No! Don’t stop. It feels good. It’s just… you’re big and I’m—”
“Tight. You’re so tight.” I press her thighs apart further, trying to make room for my cock, but it’s a fruitless effort.
I bury my head into the soft crook of her neck as I attempt another inch forward. “You know what this means, right?”
She hums low as she slides back and forth against the top of my mahogany desk, her tits spilling from her shirt. “Does it mean I get an ‘A’ in this class?”
“Oh,” I fuck her tight, little pussy harder, “you aced the whole fucking thing. You’re going to get whatever the hell you want for the rest of your life, but it comes with a catch.
You’ll belong to me and only me going forward.
” My voice is rough as I groan and thrust into her innocent, little body.
“You’d like it if I belonged to you, wouldn’t you?” she pants. “I saw the look on your face when Greg touched my arm.”
“Don’t say his name again,” I growl, pounding against her little pussy. “You only see me. You’re mine.”
The entire campus could be standing behind us, videotaping every fucking word I say, and I wouldn’t care right now.
Hell, I think a part of me would invite it.
I want a record of this. A record of the moment I claimed this little princess as my own and made her mine.
I want a record of the moaning and the panting, of her cries as I took her virginity like a thief on the edge of my fucking desk.
“Oh,” she squeals, “right there.” She digs her nails into my shoulders. “I like that.”
Whatever spot I’m hitting puts a wild smile on her face, so I lift her little ass off the desk and thrust into her harder, bouncing her against my cock as I kick off my slacks and turn in circles.
Fuck.
“That’s it, girl. I need you to come on my cock. Can you do that? Can you make me proud and drain that little pussy down my balls?” I’m way too fucking loud and I know it! “I want to see that pretty mouth cry out for me.”
“Oh God!” She pants harder as I bounce her on my cock, her tits flying up into my face with every pump. “Right there! Don’t stop!”
Jesus Christ. Her soft lips drop open, her blue eyes squeeze closed, her fingertips dig further into my shoulders, and the ginger she wears in her hair fills my lungs with the sweetest fucking scent.
“I’m going to blow, little girl. God damn, I’m gonna blow.”
I’m not myself anymore. I’m a different man. This guy is reckless. This guy is going to hell. This guy is a fucking animal.
“Do you like it when I fuck you like this, baby?”
She nods slowly, her hair falling back as she bounces. “Yes, Daddy! I love it!”
Daddy?
She called me Daddy?
Why the hell is that turning me on?
Why is that the thing that’s going to send me over the edge?
I press her up against the dry-erase board and thrust harder, pressing into her tight little core with a growl.
“Oh God, I’m going to come, Daddy!” She pants out the words and thrusts forward, convulsing on my cock with a moan so loud that I’m sure someone heard it.
Trouble is, it doesn’t matter. She’s done everything right and I’m helpless. My stomach tightens, my thighs clench, and every fucking bit of inhibition I’d been holding back empties inside of her as I growl out and press her harder into the wall.
It’s rough and chaotic, hard, and feral. I should know better. I should be softer, but I can’t stop myself. She’s a drug. A sweet, fuckable, little drug and I need it… every fucking drop.
I’m barely through with my growl when the lecture hall door clicks and begins to slide.
Fuck.
I pull us both into the supply closet to the left of the dry-erase board and hold my breath as she sits on my cock, still panting, still soaking wet.
“Your pants,” she whispers quietly. “They’re behind the podium.”
Fuck.
There’s one crack in this door and I can barely see through it.
At this point, I’m not sure I care who’s down here. I’m still high off the Daddy comment.
I’ve never studied kinks before, but I know from pop culture that Daddy is typically a dominant/submissive type of thing. It’s usually a softer version, with a caretaker role.
I’d love to care for Rosie. I’d make sure she was the happiest little girl there ever was, though I’m not sure how realistic any of this is.
I hold my girl tighter as someone drops something hard on my desk then turns back toward the steps. At least I hope that’s the noise I’m hearing. It’s hard to tell with the hum of the air conditioner.
“I think we’re in the clear,” I say, when what sounds like the lecture hall door slides closed. “I almost got myself fired.”
“And I called you Daddy, so… we’re even.” She smiles as she says, “So sorry about that. It felt right, and I just went with it.”
“I liked it,” I groan before leaning into her soft lips. “I don’t ever want you to call me anything else ever again.”
“Really?” She narrows her brows. “You’re into that?”
“I don’t follow.” I’m still inside of her, my cock growing harder again.
“I mean, you’re into the whole Daddy thing? The put me on my knees, punish me when I’m bad, give me structure, daddy thing?”
“Honey, I’m into you. And when you call me Daddy, something inside of me wants to be the best fucking daddy that ever existed.”
She smiles wide and leans into my lips gently. “It’s fun to play pretend, but… we both know this isn’t real life.”
“Why can’t it be?” I say, still shut in the supply closet hideaway. “We could make this work.”
“Oh yeah?” She offers half a smile before sliding down out of my grip. “That’s not what you thought the other night.”
I shake my head and kiss her forehead gently as I open the closet door, bringing in a rush of cool air. “Watching that boy touch you today made me realize how much I need you. I can’t stand the thought of another man ever touching you again. You’re mine.”
She tilts her head back slowly as though she’s not convinced. “And how do we make this work?”
I grab my pants off the floor and tug them on quickly. “I’ll figure it out.” My hands find her waist. “You do something to me, little girl. It’s like nothing I’ve ever felt before. My entire body reacts to you. I want to fuck you, protect you, hold you, and give you everything.”
She smiles brightly then bites back a darker expression.
“What is it, sweetheart? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” She shrugs. “This is just… it’s sweet. You’re sweet, and like… really great. I had so much fun just now, but… the truth is that life is complicated and I don’t have time for this. I have work and school and my dad.”
“Have you thought about rehab?”
Her eyes roll back and her arms cross over her chest. “Of course I’ve thought about rehab. It’s all I think about, but he won’t go. I’ve tried everything. The pamphlets, the videos, begging, crying.” She shrugs. “He doesn’t want anything to do with it.”
“Given the whole whiskey book thing, I’m sure you’ve put together that our dads are similar.
Mine loved moonshine. He loved it more than anything else on this planet.
I used to blame him for not being there for my brothers.
I spent so much time trying to talk him out of the life he chose, but eventually I had to learn that you can’t save someone who doesn’t want to be saved. ”
“So that’s it? I should give up on my dad because he doesn’t see the light yet?”
“No.” I shake my head and pull her close. “It means you should stop carrying weight he refuses to pick up. If you want, I can talk to him. I’ve been through this more times than I’d like to admit, though I’ve never seen it change anything.”
I’ve barely finished my sentence when the door at the top of the lecture hall slides open again.
Rosie steps back, the space where she just stood now cold and empty.
“Professor Wilder,” Dean Andrews groans, his hand tucked into his pocket, “a moment please.”
Considering I’ve had a student masturbating in class before I fucked her on the edge of my desk, letting her call me Daddy, I’ve got a pit in my stomach.
“Sure thing.” I spin back toward the dean, gauging his facial expression for anything out of the ordinary, but he’s stoic and unreadable, though he does seem to notice Rosie with more intrigue than I’d like.
“I’ll be over in a couple of hours,” I whisper to my girl as I climb the stairs toward Dean Andrews. Rosie is right behind us, sliding past quickly, the scent of ginger and sex following her.
Fuck. That’s got to be noticeable.
My chest tightens as Professor Dean opens his thin lips to speak.
“Professor, Greg Butler stopped by my office to write a formal complaint about you. He said you were ogling Rosie Carmichael during class, and well,” he drags his gaze back toward my girl as she leaves the room then lowers his voice as he says, “pretty little tits like that and I can see why.”
I’m not a violent man. I haven’t fought since I was in college myself and the fight was over a dude who backed into my truck. Here and now, though, my fists clench, my throat closes, and I’ve never wanted to murder a man more.
The dean must pick up on this because he turns those thin lips up into a grin. “Oh professor, you’ve got it bad. You know you can’t get attached, right? They’re just for fucking, playing around with. That’s the fun of it all. You order them on their knees and send them on their way.”
My fist connects with his jaw. The impact jolts my arm, a burst of adrenaline and anger tangling together as the balding asshole staggers back, shock flashing across his face.
Using the wall to steady himself, the old man wipes his lip with the back of his hand and laughs.
“Hitting me over some big tits? I remember the early days. How special I thought each girl was.” He keeps his distance as he steps out of the room.
“I’ll let this one slide, but the next time you touch me, we’re going to have a problem, Walker. Get your priorities straight.”
I’m fuming for so many fucking reasons. The fact that he objectified my girl. The fact that he’s clearly crossing lines with multiple students. The fact that he thinks I’m like him.
I’m not some slimy fucking asshole. I don’t do this. I care about Rosie. I want her to be safe. I love her.
Love.
Jesus Christ, what the fuck is wrong with me?
I drag in a heavy breath as a low growl rumbles in my chest. The dean has left the room with a freshly swollen and bruised jaw, but he seems good at lying so I’m sure he’ll make up a stellar excuse.
As I stand at the top of the lecture hall steps, I realize no amount of time is going to fix this. I like my job, but I love Rosie more.