I was going to fail.
Every fucking assignment was harder than the last, and I was tired of it. Do well, improve on your sisters grades- she is doing so well, it will be you soon.
Society's expectations were draining me. Don't get me wrong; I'm clever. Top of my class kinda clever, but I'm not on my genius sisters level, oh no. She is a high profile lawyer, married to a judge. They live in a prestige part of town, and they have two perfect children, thank you very much.
Hey, guess what?
I don't give a shit.
Except, its not worth it to not do well. My parents have promised me everything if I succeed at passing my degree with flying colours. A swanky apartment in the city. Any car I want. An allowance until I'm taken on full time. They are rich, high flyers like my sister. Dad is a partner in a fierce law firm; Mother is a socialite. Not that I need their money, but why not take it?
I had the mental capacity to do well, I suppose they were just encouraging what was natural.
So I'm sitting here, listening to my professor drone on and on about things I couldn't care less about. I find my eyes drifting to the window as I try not to yawn, kept awake by my boyfriend until the early hours.
"Miss Sharpe. Can you enlighten us on your view on which statement is most likely appropriate as a response to the question?"
I look up to see the blue eyes of my professor glaring at me over the thick dark frames he wore. If only he wasn't so fucking miserable, he would be deemed potentially possible as a distraction in which to pass the time.
I clear my throat as I smile, which only makes his eyes narrow further.
"I would say there are doubts about the conclusive nature of studies on animals. So...C."
He lifts a brow, before challenging me further.
"On what basis?"
I glance around the room to see people taking interest in him making a point of me being his scapegoat, and I try not to respond too sarcastically.
"On the data presented to us in the past. If the government was to act before the study can be proven conclusively, it would lose credibility. Sir."
He is annoyed that I'm right, but having grown up in a house with my sister and father, one couldn't help but learn how to argue and debate successfully.
The professor dragged his eyes away from me, but not before he handed out our grades from our previous assignment. I'd worked particularly hard on this one, despite not having any passion whatsoever for the subject at hand.
He slams mine on my desk, before moving past me with a strange smile on his face. I turn it over quickly, preparing myself for a minimum of a B grade, when I saw a big fat red D staring angrily up at me.
I blink in surprise, glancing around as I hear little whoops and high fives. Even Jonathan Bewley was happy; and he was a fucking idiot if I've ever known one.
A fucking D?
This can't be right.
"Sir-" I begin, holding my hand up as the bell rings. He ignores me as my classmates gather their things, rushing off to the next class like their lives depended on it. This university was not like others- you woke up early, you showed up early, and you worked your arse off. If you didn't, you wouldn't make it.
Welcome to Law.
"Sir," I repeat, pushing my way to his desk as I finally notice his eyes snap up at me with irritation.
"I think there's been a mistake, I've been given a D?"
I hold my page up as he continues to shuffle papers on his desk, his eyes finally meeting mine as he exhales.
"There's no mistake. Your work was abysmal."
He stares at me for a moment, and a sharp laugh leaves my mouth.
"Sorry, did you just say-"
"Abysmal. Catastrophic. Embarrassing. Shit."
I blink, stunned. Did he just say-
I was floored. This professor couldn't have been older than thirty five, yet he was speaking to me the way you would a child. Except I'm not a child. I'm twenty years old.
"Are you fucking joking me?"
The words are out before I can stop them, and he lesns back into his chair, his hands crossing in front of him as he smiles at me coldly.
"Such a dirty mouth. No, Claire. I'm not joking you. Could you not rephrase that in a more eloquent manner? Or are you also failing your native language?"
I'm unable to respond, as he looks back at the papers on his desk. I try to move but my feet are stuck to the ground, determined to wait until I'd argued my way to a least an A.
"I am challenging your method of marking. I want someone else to mark it, you are clearly biased."
He stands up then, walking around the desk as he stands in front of me, removing his glasses as he breathes hot air onto them slowly. He reaches forward, tugging my shirt from my skirt, using it to clean the lenses. In doing so he pulls me closer to him, and I feel my nipples harden instantly. What the-
"I'm not biased. You could do better. No one else will mark it, so if you want a better grade, you need to impress me further."
He pushes my shirt back into my skirt, his fingers touching my bare skin as I shiver unexpectedly.
"Impress you? I wrote that very well. I couldn't have argued my point any better; in fact I challenge you to show me a better piece of work."
He steps closer to me, my heart loading against my chest as he gazes at me, and I'm truly unsure what he is going to do. He speaks softly, his mouth close to my ear when he does.
"Listen Claire. I'm bored of this conversation. So take your D, and leave. Or..."
I bite my lip as he sighs, gazing at me with annoyance.
"Or what? I need to pass this," I whine, as he folds his arms. I'm aware he is well built beneath his shirt, and I'm following the line of hairs on his arms under the fabric of his cuff when he waves at me.
"Have you finished checking me out? It's highly inappropriate you know, I am your superior."
For once, I'm unable to answer. Of course I found him attractive- everyone did. But he was an arse, miserable, boring, argumentative dickhead who was out to make my life hell.
"Yes you are. You're checking me out."
I feel my cheeks flush beneath his gaze, as he lifts an eyebrow to me.
"Are you going, or are you going to attempt to change your grade?"
I'm not sure I've heard him right, and I shake my head in confusion.
"You want me to argue my way to an A?"
He laughs then, a deep chuckle as he loosens his tie, his fingers tugging it down slightly as he opens the top buttons on his shirt.
"Is that what you want, an A?"
"Doesn't everyone?" I snap back, as he begins to walk towards me, his eyes on the door behind me the whole time.
"I'll give you an A. But what are you going to do to earn it?" His voice is a whisper in my ear, and I almost fall back in surprise. Was he...propositioning me?
"Claire, I haven't got all day."
He is so close now I can smell his aftershave, mixed with the scent of fresh laundry and a hint of peppermint. God, he smelt good.
"Sir, I'm confused, what exactly are you asking me?"
He smiles then as he walks forward, his body inches away from mine.
"You want an A, right? I can give you the A," he smirks suddenly, and I realise what he is referring to. His gaze drops down my neck to my chest, which is rising and falling rapidly under his heated gaze. "But are you going to give me what I want?"
I lift my eyes to his, knowing he could get into serious trouble for what he seemed to be suggesting.
"What...what do you...want?" I stammer, my voice barely above a whisper. His eyes drag down my body slowly, as he leans close to my ear. I panic he can hear my heart rate, and all I can hear is the blood rushing in my ears.
I turn my head to his sharply, his lips inches from mine as I walk backwards, falling against a desk as I stop. He doesn't walk forward, he simply rubs his chin thoughtfully as he glances at the open door.
"That's...blackmail," I whisper, my eyes now running across his broad chest and tight trousers. My god, I already knew what I was going to say.
"Yes, I suppose it is. But you want to do it anyway, and so do I. We may as well call it a deal, because otherwise our social circles will never cross. I fuck you here, now, and you get your A. It's entirely your decision."
He walks over to the door, closing it softly as he oulls the blind down. He doesn't lock it, but turns to me as I stand up, my legs shaking.
"I'm not a predator, Claire. You're a beautiful young woman, and I want you. I also want you to do well in life, so luckily I feel we can strike a bargain. If not, take the D, and I'll see you in class tomorrow."
He shrugs, stepping to the side as I lick my lips, my fingers sliding up my skirt as he watches me with a devilish expression on his face.
I slide my underwear down, my fingers shaking as the fall to the floor beneath my boots. He looks up at me, before walking to the door and locking it. He hits the lights, and we are plunged into semi darkness. I'm so wet it's absurd, but its nothing compared to when he walks over to me. He lifts me effortlessly onto the desk, tugging his zipper down as I protest.
"You need to wear a condom-"
He shakes his head, his lips on mine as he kisses me roughly. His tongue is in my mouth as his fingers twist my nipples through my bra, and I whimper with pleasure.
"No condom. I want to be in you. You're on the pill, you've got a boyfriend, right?"
He is driving me insane with his words, his fingers dragging me to the edge of the desk as I gasp, the head of his dick pressing against my tight hole.
"Yes," I whisper, as he smirks against me.
"Do you want this inside of you Claire?"
"Yes," I say, my arms around his neck as he suddenly slams into me, his hands gripping my hips as I cry out. I feel like he is ripping me in two, but the pleasure soon over takes the pain. My hands are gripping his hair, his neck, anything. My legs wrap around him as he fucks me, his mouth absorbing any noise mine is making. The desk is scraping against the floor, the sound of his belt clanging with the metal table leg as he grips my buttocks, slamming himself into me.
Suddenly he pulls out, and I'm being flipped over, my skirt around my waist as I feel him examine me. He is squeezing my ass hard, and I moan when he uses a finger to enter my rectum slowly. I've had anal sex once, and it hurt bad. So imagine my surprise when he tells me to relax, his voice soft and kind unlike any other time I'd heard it. Soon I'm reeling with pleasure, as another finger joins the first. My juices from my pussy are running in-between my thighs, but he neglects it, instead he brings me closer to an orgasm simply by using his fingers in my ass. His other hand moves around to my front, and his fingers begin massaging my clit. I can't open my eyes now, my legs are like jelly and I'm almost there.
"Do you like that, Claire? You're so beautiful."
I can barely speak, but when I do its to ask for something more than he is giving me.
"Fuck my ass," I moan, as he chuckles, slapping my ass cheek hard as he pumps my clit.
"Fuck my ass what?"
I'm so close now, but he has ceased all movement. I sit up, glancing behind me to see him popping a lid from a jar of Vaseline that he is now smothering over his dick.i wonder why he had Vaseline with him, but I'm soon back to the edge of pleasure when he stands behind me, his feet kicking my legs apart.
"Please," I beg, and I feel him pressing against my entrance. The tearing sensation is eased somewhat when he begins to massage the lube over my hole, before pressing his weight down on my body. My mind is no longer sane, I'm losing every fibre of sanity as he begins to push himself further into me, our fingers lacing as he suddenly slams it in.
I do as he commands, and suddenly the waves of pain turn to pleasure once more. My muscles struggle to accommodate him, but they soon do wrapping around him like a fist as I moan loudly. Soon his hand is clamped around my mouth, as he fucks me slowly.
"Cum for me Claire," he whispers in my ear his other hand finding my clit as I feel him spreading my legs further, giving him deeper entrance. He is picking up speed now, and I can't help but cry out loudly as my orgasm takes hold, my body exploding with sensations I've never felt in my wildest dreams. He soon releases me, his hands on my ass as he buries himself into me, letting out a deep growl as he empties himself into my ass.
He rests on top of me, both of us trying to catch our breath as he lifts up, removing himself from me as he stands up. I hear the jangle of his belt as he dresses, and I realise I need to stand.
Its a lot harder than I thought, but somehow I manage to lift my legs into my panties as I slide them back up to cover my throbbing holes. I lift my eyes to that of my professor, who is now standing beside his desk, the only sign he has done anything is the fact his chest is still rising and falling rapidly. He holds out a paper to me, before walking to the door and flicking the lights back on.
I gaze at the paper, to see he had given me an A.
"You deserved the A, but you deserved that fucking more."
He smirks as he sits down, before looking back up to me.
"Anything else, Claire?"
"I want to fail every assignment," I say, biting my lip as he chuckles.
"Thank you Sir."