Chapter 41 Avalynne
AVALYNNE
The bolt clicks into place as Xade walks over and locks the door. I lean back against the blackboard, my heart hammering an uneven rhythm in my chest. My breath catches in my throat when I glance over to find Professor Thatcher already looking at me.
At the sight, my chest squeezes almost painfully, and I'm breathless once more.
The man is sin, sex, and dominance rolled into one.
He's dressed in an impeccable midnight-blue suit today, sans jacket and tie.
With his long, straight black hair brushing the tops of his shoulders, he exudes raw authority.
He has a face that could grace a runway, but a sharp mind that belongs in a classroom.
He's intimidating and alluring, and I don't know if I can ever get enough of him.
Stickiness slicks my inner thighs, but I don't feel bad for what we've done. If anything, I feel alive for the first time in months.
He makes me feel alive.
His dark eyes blaze with an intense, fiery heat as he stands near the locked door, and I remain at the front of the room. The space between us crackles with that strange thing I can't put a name to.
Lust, love, infatuation, something … more.
"What are you planning to do to me, Professor?" I say, my voice breathy, fluttering with my erratic heartbeat.
Everything goes silent, and it's as if the room itself holds its breath, waiting for his response.
But then again, maybe it's just me.
Xade smirks wickedly, the light of the afternoon sun glinting off his straight teeth, before his gaze invades me, traveling over my body. Even beneath the habit, the heat of his scrutiny makes my skin prickle, and my heart thumps even harder, running away with my breath.
"Are you sore?" he asks.
"I'm fine, Professor."
He stalks toward me, one step after another, all the while looking at me. The girl I used to be would have averted her eyes beneath his scrutiny. The woman I'm becoming doesn't blink.
"You should've told me," he chides, but there's no bite to the words.
"Told you what?"
"That you were a virgin."
What's that primal thing I see in his gaze?
"Would it have changed anything?" I breathe.
He eyes me in that inscrutable way of his and hesitates before he responds. "Your first time shouldn't have been against a blackboard, Avalynne."
I cock my head at him. "Who are you to tell me where my first time should have been?"
He presses his tongue to his cheek. "Fair point. Are you sure you're okay?"
"I'm fine. Better than fine. Orgasmic even."
The corner of his mouth quirks. "Cute."
"Will you stop asking me if I'm okay?"
"If you insist."
"Oh, I do."
"Good because I'm nowhere near done with you," he murmurs, his tone pure velvet that sends shivers spilling down my spine. He continues forward.
"Take it all off," he tells me.
There is no hesitation in his words, no room for defiance, only pure certainty that I will comply.
I swallow. I'm not particularly shy, but something about standing naked in front of him, putting it all on the line, makes me tremble.
"Take it off, Avalynne," he warns, his gaze darkening. "Don't make me repeat myself."
"You first," I challenge.
He raises an eyebrow as a smirk stretches across his lips. Then, to my surprise, he undoes his cufflinks, discarding them on the desk. Next, he unbuttons his shirt at his wrists, then down the line of his chest, before shrugging off his shirt and hanging it on the back of his chair.
I slide off my shoes, and he steps closer.
With one hand, he reaches behind himself and tugs his sleeveless undershirt off, leaving his chest bare.
Oh my.
He is all sculpted muscle and sinew, and this isn't like the time in the rain. I see everything in the afternoon light. The dusting of hair below his clavicle, the thin veins snaking beneath his skin, the way his abdominals ripple as he turns and deposits the undershirt on top of his other one.
We continue in the same way.
My shirt.
He takes another step.
His socks and shoes.
Another step.
My socks and shoes.
Step.
His belt.
Step.
My skirt.
Step.
His pants.
Until he's in front of me, and we're left in nothing but my bra and his boxer briefs.
The cool air of the room wraps around my skin, raising goosebumps in its wake. It's his gaze that makes me shiver, though, and my nipples pebble as his stare lowers to my chest and skims slowly down.
A heartbeat later, he undoes my bra with one hand and slides the straps over my shoulders to let it fall on the floor. His boxers immediately follow, and the hard length of his cock bobs against his stomach.
"I'm not allowed a razor," I mumble, though surely, he must already know that.
What is he thinking?
His gaze dips even lower.
"You're exquisite as you are," he murmurs, his warm breath tickling my nose. His words sink into me, wrapping around my heart, as he slowly reaches out his hand and touches my quivering stomach. Then he dips his hand lower, finally caressing that spot where we're still mixed together.
"I've imagined this so many times." His lips part as he rubs my aching clit in slow, sensual circles, sending jolts of pleasure shockwaving through me.
My breath bursts past my teeth in short, urgent gasps as my nipples pebble to tight peaks.
He chuckles, the sound floating softly around me. "You like that, don't you, my good girl?"
His skilled fingers leave me abruptly before he turns us both and backs me against the cool, hard surface of the desk. I gasp as wood chills the back of my legs, and he moves to stand between my thighs.
"God," I murmur.
He tsks. "Try again, Avalynne."
"Professor," I correct, breathless.
Lord, why do I love calling him that so much?
He groans, his dark eyes locked on me. "You weren't a good girl in class today." His fingers skim up my thighs and settle low on my stomach, barely touching me. "Showing me your sweet cunt."
"I had to do something to get your attention." His fingers press harder into my flesh.
"I was trying to protect you," he remarks, something akin to guilt crossing his features.
I don't want his guilt, though.
"Tell me to stop," he says, "and I'll stop. In no world do we get a happily ever after. Your grandfather … my …" he swallows hard, "it will never allow it."
It hurts to hear his words, so I don't.
"I have spent my whole life being whatever my grandfather wanted," I tell him. "I listened. I obeyed. I kept my head down. I didn't talk back. I have lived in his shadow, and in return, I got sent here. For once, I don't want to think about anyone else. I want to think about what I want."
"And what is it you want?" he remarks, cocking an eyebrow.
"You," I tell him, my heart pounding against my sternum. It's so loud, I think he must be able to hear it. "I want you."
A smirk graces his beautiful lips.
"That's all?" he says, dark lashes hooding his gaze as he watches me.
"Yes." I nod.
His smirk broadens.
"Ask and you shall receive," he murmurs, nestling closer between my legs, as he reaches one hand around me and into his briefcase, producing a metal ruler.
He pulls back, and I look at the etched black metal, my heart jumping into my throat.
"What is that for?" I ask.
He doesn't answer. Instead, he traces it teasingly along my inner thigh.
"Fuck." He stares down at it, watching as goosebumps rise on my metal-cooled flesh. "I've wanted to do this for so long." His gaze locks on mine. "Let me know if you don't like something or if you need me to stop."
I nod, and he runs the ruler up and across my thigh. The sensation of the cool metal sliding against my flushed skin makes me shiver.
"This is your punishment," he murmurs, his words low and grated, "for sitting in my class today and pretending to be a good girl while you spread your legs."
He snaps the ruler, and it hits my inner thigh loudly.
Ah.
I hiss.
I like that.
"Are you okay?" he asks, his dark eyes fixed on me.
I nod.
"Again," I tell him.
He gives me a lopsided grin before he complies. Each sharp slap of the ruler against my sensitized skin increases the building pressure between my legs.
Snap.
Snap.
Snappppppp.
Pink splotches mar my flesh as the line between pain and pleasure blurs. Wetness weeps from me down onto his desk as he lifts the ruler and brings it between my legs. He pulls one end back toward himself and snaps it tight against my heat.
Fuck.
I gasp.
"Do you like that?" he asks carefully.
"Yes, Professor." I nod, my breasts heaving with my breath.
"Arms behind you," he instructs. "Lean back on the desk."
I do as he commands, my fingertips resting against the smooth wood.
He brings the ruler between us once more before he snaps it against me. Currents of fire bolt through me, burning my breath away.
"Tell me what you want, Avalynne." His words drip like honeyed venom into my ears—irresistibly sweet but infectious. "Answer your professor. Do you want me to fuck you again?"
He wraps his fingers around my throat, his calloused fingertips pressing into my tender flesh.
"Yes, sir." I nod.
He groans. "So obedient."
Retrieving a condom from his wallet, he bites the wrapper with his teeth before he deftly rolls the condom onto his cock.
His strong hands land on either side of my thighs.
"What do you call me, Avalynne?" he says.
I manage to choke out the word "Professor," and his lips curve into a lustful smirk.
"Good girl." Then he bottoms out inside me, his lips flattening against mine and swallowing my moan.
"Fuck," he says as he pulls out, his stomach rippling with the effort.
The veins in his neck protrude outward, and he throws his head back before he slams into me again, burying himself to the hilt.
The edge of the desk bites into my ass as my ankles wrap low on his waist, around his back, and his fingers dig into my thighs. The hair on his legs tickles the back of mine as he pounds into me.
His hand comes to my throat, and with one hand, he holds me down on the desk as his hips piston against me. My breasts shake with the force, and the desk jitters across the floor as he fucks me.
"Fuck, I need to come," he says, tipping his head up to the ceiling, sweat slicking the inky strands of his hair.
"Then come," I tell him breathily.
A wicked grin stretches across his face as he peers down the line of his nose at me and rocks his hips even faster.
"You first," he grunts.
He releases the pressure on my throat.
"Look at us," he orders. "Look how perfectly we fit together, Clarissima Stella."
I lift my head off the desk and watch, transfixed, as he disappears inside me, his cock slick with our arousal and the remnants of my virginity.
"Goddamn, you're perfect," he groans, slamming back into me again. "Watch your professor fuck you like the good girl you are."
Oh my God.
He spears me even harder, and my body trembles as my nipples tighten to the point of pain.
"Just like that," he growls, all of me jiggling beneath his force.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" he chants as I clench around him, and he bottoms out inside me.
His mouth falls open as his thighs knock against my ass in a final thrust.
Then he stills and says my name as he spills into the condom.