She yanks me down, crushing her lips to mine. Her mouth feels hungry, like she’s been starving.
And I know just what to feed her.
I grab her ass and tug her to the edge of my desk, eliciting a small gasp from her pretty mouth. My cock is already hard, straining against my trousers, and I grind it against her, finding the heat between her spread legs. She moans into my mouth while wrapping her legs around me, her ankles locking at my low back.
I want to sink my length into her, to fuck her until she sends storms crashing through my office. I want Maeve to be my force of nature.
She breaks our kiss to lie back on my desk, sending parchment and a quill fluttering to the floor as I use the moment to catch my breath.
Her long hair spreads out around her, and she holds my gaze as she slowly begins unbuttoning her blouse, revealing more pale skin with every clasp that comes loose. Her stare is unwavering, challenging.
When the material falls open, revealing her breasts clad in a black silk brassiere, my dick jumps. She takes my hand and guides it to her chest—inviting my touch, inviting me to explore.
So I do.
I grind my dick against her again while leaning forward, taking her breasts in my hands. They’re full and soft, and her nipples are already hard, poking up against the thin fabric. Shearches her back when I brush my thumbs against them, her lips opening with a breathy moan.
And I get an almost uncontrollable urge to drink from her. My fangs begin producing venom, which is meant to dull pain and heighten pleasure. The taste of it startles me; it’s been a long, long time since this happened without me intending for it to.
Yet another thing I’ve lost control of.
The thought sends a burst of anger through me, and I grind myself against Maeve again, harder this time, making my desk groan under the strain. She’s getting so wet that I feel her pussy soaking the fabric of my trousers. Ishouldcare—I have another lecture shortly—but somehow, I don’t. All I care about is her smell, her small moans, the way her body trembles as I grip her breasts and squeeze.
A draft goes through my office, sending Maeve’s scent twirling through the room. An electrical charge builds in the air, until I can feel the hair on my arms and the back of my neck standing on end. Maeve’s eyes are closed, her lips parted slightly; she makes no indication of realizing what her magic is doing.
And for this brief moment, I admire her.
I’ve only a scarce idea of what she’s capable of, yet I’m awed by her. When I saw her on the Skyreach Spire, sphere of energy crackling with power, I was rendered almost speechless.
Sheisa force of nature. Terrifying. Thrilling. Beautiful.
Maeve opens her eyes. She must realize her magic building, because the gust going through my office abruptly stops, and the electrical charge in the air diminishes.
The academy’s clock chooses this moment to chime, making me grit my teeth as its reverberations echo through therooms and corridors. I’m certain it must be enchanted in some way, for no matter where I am in this castle, it reaches me just the same.
And my frustration with it is two-fold, for it means I must get ready for my lecture—and I’m not sure how to do so with Maeve sprawled on my desk and my cock aching for a feel of her.
A smile tugs on Maeve’s mouth as she pushes herself into a seated position. The lock she has around my back with her ankles falls free, but when I go to step back, she stops me, tugging me back in for another kiss. Our mouths are hot, lips swollen, and she makes me growl when she nips my bottom lip—almost hard enough to draw blood.
“You play with fire,” I whisper against her mouth, my fingers curling into her soft thighs.
“No,” she says. “Fire has never liked me. I much prefer playing with storms.” One hand on my chest, she pushes me back, then stands from my desk and begins doing up the buttons of her blouse, acting as if nothing happened. And with every button she clasps, I feel like more of a fool.
What if someone had tried to walk in? What if the headmistress had come knocking?
This whole affair is foolish and absurdly dangerous. I could get fired. Maeve could get expelled.
Yet I know I’m already in too deep. And as Maeve runs a hand over her hair, smoothing it out and sending another twirl of her scent through the air, I breathe it in with the acceptance of a dead man walking to his noose.
I know I should stop this, but I don’t have the power to.
“Thank you, Professor,” she says. “This has proved to bemost... illuminating.” There’s that catlike smile on her lips again. A lioness toying with her prey.
And I’m not sure I’ve ever been prey before. But two can play at this game.
She makes to leave, but I grab her wrist and tug her back, capturing her mouth once more with mine. I tangle my tongue with hers, and she softens against me, a small moan slipping free. Then, exercising what scant bit of control I have left, I push her hair back over her shoulder and press a single kiss to the pulse point in her throat, where her heartbeat thrums just beneath her skin.
Her body goes still, like she’s waiting for my fangs to pierce her skin.
