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“Now,” he continues in that deceivingly soft tone. “Be a good girl and get on your fucking knees.”
I grit my teeth, my back plank-straight.
I have no idea what to do with myself. My brain scrambles for a response while my body begs for me to obey. My knees are weak, and my breathing is erratic.
I become extra aware of the burner phone in the top drawer of my desk. Through the haze inside my head, I make a mental note to set it permanently on silent mode. If Romano calls me right now, I’ll be in the deepest shit of the century.
“On your knees,” he repeats through his teeth.
“Micah–”
He flashes out a knife, and I stiffen against the bookcase.
“On your knees, Professor, or I’m gonna shred your clothes and let you walk home in rags, with your tits hanging out.”
“Jesus Christ,” I whisper as my trembling fingers hitch up my skirt. I start to go down to my knees, the action looking awkward in the cramped space between Micah’s body and the bookcase.
When my knees touch the ground he unbuckles his belt, reaches into his pants and whips out his cock.
It’s so close to my face that I jerk back, my head knocking into the spines of the books behind me. And when it comes into focus, I gasp.
Micah Royales sports a beast of a dick with a metal piercing on its crest, corded with veins and ready to abuse my mouth. I lick my lips, completely mesmerized, when he grabs it at the root with a handful of his balls, his fingers sinking into my hair.
“I’m gonna enjoy messing up this proper little chignon and give you a properly slutty look.” His voice is thick with mean lust.
“I swear I didn’t do anything with Romano down in the car.” I make a last attempt to stop this madness. I won’t be able to make another one, not with his scent of virile male wrapping around my already hazy mind. I realize in horror that arousal trickles into my panties.
It’s fucking insane that this situation is turning me on.
It’s insane that I want this young devil to savagely take my mouth.
A glint appears in those dark, bottomless eyes as I stare up into them.
“He had his hand around the back of your neck,” he says quietly, the expression on his face confusing. It’s as if he wants me to convince him. Like he wishes that I had the proper arguments.
“He wanted to. But I didn’t.” I shake my head. “I really didn’t.”
The grin fades from his face and his fingers soften in my hair, their presence there feeling almost like a caress.
“Then what were you doing meeting in secret in the night?”
And here is our problem.
The huge obstacle in the way of my salvation.
I’m doomed because I can’t give him the truth. I can’t say or do anything but stare up into his eyes with the expression of a beggar. His face changes, and the cruel prince is back.
“Lying whore,” he growls, driving fear down my spine. His features morph into that of an animal. His fingers turn to iron in my hair, and he runs the length of his dick roughly against my lips.
“Suck,” he commands, and the pierced crest pushes through my lips. The pressure forces my jaw to open and, before I know it, his metal piercing hits the back of my throat. I choke on it. I can feel my throat expanding as he forces himself down, tears welling into my eyes.
He pulls back only to thrust in again, letting go of the root and going balls deep this time. I put my hands up on his thighs to steady myself against the force and give myself a semblance of control but, next thing I know, the blade he threatened to shred my clothes with appears at the side of my throat.
“Use those hands to take your tits out. Hold them at the ready for me to spill my jizz on them.” He pulls back only to thrust violently into my mouth, and when his thighs flex against my palms it feels like they’ve been sculpted in marble. I splay my fingers over them instinctively, wanting to feel more of that power, when the blade pushes into my skin. Not enough to draw blood, but enough to make me stiffen, and every cell in my body to jump to attention.
I have to obey and open my suit jacket, lift my top and push down the cups of my bra. My tits spring free, and Micah inhales with a sharp hiss. The wicked desire in that hiss, this whole mess of a situation in which he fucks my mouth harder and harder, it adds up to make me so horny I’m fucking losing it. He pounds my mouth viciously, books thudding to the ground.
I don’t have big tits to speak of, but they’re firm and perky, and enough to swell nicely when I push them together with my arms—or at least that’s what Santi used to say. The gesture seems to turn Micah wild, his thighs flexing and his back arching forward as he loses control. I can’t believe that I’m being fucked in the mouth by Micah Royales, the most drooled after bad boy on campus, and that I have this effect on him. Hell, I could grow addicted to his reactions, to the savagery in his eyes when I pinch my nipples and tug.
