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Chapter 8


I gently shut the door to Castien's office, walking over to him. He didn't look as irritated as usual but nevertheless, he scowled when he saw me. I pressed my lips down on his and he grabbed me around my waist pulling me against him. I smiled into the kiss. He could be in a decent mood, angry, annoyed, or downright outraged but he'd still always respond to me.

A knock sounded at the door and I blinked. There was someone at the door. And I shouldn't be here. A wicked idea formed in my head and smirking, I slid off of him, climbing onto the floor. "Come in," I called.

Castien's eyes narrowed at me, but I tucked myself under his desk, kneeling in front of him. I was mostly hidden by his desk, practically invisible to the person who just entered.

His attention was turned on whoever had just entered his office and I could faintly hear what they were discussing. It wasn't a student. That wasn't the focus right now though.

Instead, I extended my hand, silently unbuckling his belt and undoing the zipper on his pants. Reaching in, I pulled out his semi-hard cock and ran a finger along the underside of it. I could tell by the way his entire body tensed that there was a good chance I was going to pay for this later. Glancing up, I could just barely make out how his muscles constricted as he realized what I was planning.

Leaning forward on my knees, I lowered my mouth and wrapped it around the tip. I could still hear the voices talking, but Castien's had become noticeably strained.

As I sucked, I could feel him swell up and stiffen until he was fully and deliciously hard inside me. I pushed myself down, taking as much of him into my mouth as I could before he pushed against the back of my throat. I loved having him in my mouth. Well, I loved him inside me in general. He moved forward, further into the desk as to fully hide what was happening and I could help but grin.

I swallowed around him, hollowing out my cheeks as I bobbed my head up and down along his length. At this point, I could tell that he was having a hard time concentrating, and I was honestly just surprised he hasn't kicked whoever it was out of his office yet. I worked a bit faster, edging him. My hands stroked him and worked on his shaft, saliva acting as a lubricant.

Professor Castien was usually so calm and collected, but right now, his entire body was rigid and his words were jerky and gritted. I got the satisfaction that I could do this to him. But by just how hard he was right now, I'd say even he had a bit of an exhibitionistic streak in him.

Finally, after a while, I heard the door to his office close with a click. By now, precum was dripping heavily from his swollen cock and pooling around my hands and mouth.

I was about to continue when Castien's hand reached down and grabbed my wrist, pulling me off the ground and yanking my body forward and onto him. I wanted to whine at the loss of having him in my mouth.

"Brat," he growled lowly, eyes blazing. "Do you know what you just did to me?"

I tried not to smile too much. "I'm sorry, sir."

He lets go of my wrist, practically shoving me back to my knees. "Hands behind your back," he said icily.

I obliged, clasping my hands behind my back. He hooked a finger inside my mouth, forcing my jaw open. Before I could say anything else, he pushed his cock past my lips and down my throat. I gagged immediately but I held my position. The sudden trigger of my gag reflex brought tears stinging in my eyes.

He groans quietly and his fingers slip into my hair, curling around the scalp and tugging harshly. He forced my head back and force fucking my mouth. His crown slammed repeated into the back of my throat, choking me each time and reminding me of his command. I let out a soft cry, but not protesting.

"Look at me," he demanded.

I whined pitifully. I looked up at him, my mouth stuffed with his cock, eyes clouded, we glassed over and my chin dripping with bodily fluids. He stared almost ruthlessly down at me and I felt my arousal peak. It was like seeing how vulnerable I was. How submissive I was for him. That was the turn-on. He started fucking my face again, forcing me deeper against him.

"Fucking take it," he glared, his hips pushing forward and urging the movement. He jerked me back and forth and I moaned softly.

I opened my mouth as wide and took him in, gagging and spluttering at his rough face-fuck. The tears rolled freely down my cheeks, but he didn't slow, each slam effectively cutting off my airway and suffocating me.

I couldn't keep up with the movements so I forced my body to relax, letting him take control. His moans only made me force my jaw wider as he pulled my hair, stabbing harshly into my throat. I was coughing and choking, my throat guaranteed to be sore. Friction burned at my lips and I whimpered, as he shoved me harder and harder into him.

My hands curled around each other, gripping tightly for support. My throat felt raw and stripped. Saliva and precum dripped from the sides of my lips and my head was starting to spin, but I held y own, letting him abuse my mouth as he used me to get himself off.

When he came, he groaned one last slam into me, his thick white cum spilling into the back of my throat. I dutifully swallowed to the best of my ability, licking off the excess on his tip with my tongue. When he pulled out, I gasped for air, eyes closing. I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, trying to get out of my daze.

I probably looked like a fucking mess right now. I remained on my knees, trying to catch my breath. My throat was sore and my scalp tingled from where he held me. I panted, whimpering softly and staring down at the floor.

He tilted my face up, not unkindly, pressing a kiss to my forehead. I froze, the brush of his lips against my head making my heart skip a beat. "Good job," he said quietly.

My entire body felt fuzzy and warm at that simple remark but I did my best not to react too much. I did a good job. "Thank you, sir," I whispered.

He didn't say anything for a few seconds. "Don't move," he commanded. I stilled at the order, staring up at him with wide eyes as he pulled out his phone. It took me a moment to realize what he was doing. My face heated and I moved, ducking my head and hiding from the camera that was pointed directly at me.

"I said don't move," he snapped.

I made a quiet noise, wanting to curl in on myself and continue hiding my face, but I obediently looking back up, staring right into the lens on his phone.

He was taking a picture. Actually more than one, probably.

His hand latched around my upper arm again, pulling me to my feet and back into his lap. He grabbed my legs, pinning them on either side of his hips. "You want to see it?" he murmured.

"No," I answered quietly, unwilling to even look him in the eye.

His question was probably rhetorical as he slid his fingers into my hair, forcing my head to turn. He was holding his phone with a cynical smirk on his lips. The picture was much worse than in my head.

I was so flushed, red tint spreading across my pale face. My lips were parted and I had both cum and saliva, dripping down my chin, half of it smeared across my mouth. Tears streaked my cheeks, eyes rimmed with red, and starting to get puffy from the crying. My hair was a mess, looking to have been pulled in every which way, but worse of all was the expression on my face. I looked like I belonged on the cover of some obscene porno. I think the best word I could use to describe it was I looked like a whore. On my knees, a desperately erotic look across my face.

"Delete it," I whispered. It was humiliating, seeing myself like that. What was worse was there was literal photo evidence of me being a whore.

"Actually," he said, pulling out a tissue from his desk drawer and handing it to me. "I'm probably going to use it as my lock screen."

"Professor, please," I mumbled. I took the tissue, clearing my face of all the multitudes of body fluids.

"Why?" He looked amused at my turmoil.

Son of a bitch.

"I look like a whore," I said quietly.

"I know. That's why I like it," Castien said somewhat tonelessly. His words both made me flush even more and made my heart swell. He was so damn confusing.

"It's…embarrassing," I specified. "Please. Delete it."

He tilted his head, still smirking. "What if I don't?"

I blinked. "You're a dick."

"I can live with that."

I pouted, looking down before he pushed his mouth on mine again. Instinctively, I returned the kiss, his lips hot and forceful, yanking yet another whimper from me. He grabs my hips, planting them in his lap. His mouth was still as heavy and hungry as before. Wanting. Needing.

When another knock sounds at the door, he inhaled an annoyed breath, clearly unhappy we were interrupted. I smiled softly. "Should I leave?"

He stares at me for a few seconds unblinkingly. "Just sit and don't say anything."

I frowned. "Are you sure?"

He gives a nod and I relax a bit, leaning my head on his chest. "Come in," he answered gruffly.

A student peaked his head in, a student I recognized from my class actually. Patrick. His eyes widened at what he saw and his gaze darted between me and Castien quizzically. I flushed, hiding my face.

So far, not too many people had spotted us together, but there was still a chance that they found out what happened behind closed doors. I was pretty sure I could get expelled or Castien could get fired for this but somehow every time it came to mind, I kissed him and I kinda just forgot. "What?" Castien demanded, his voice hard and cold.

"I-I...I um, my paper...you-" His words seemed to keep getting cut off like he was distracted by my extra presence.

"Yes?" Castien said, clearly getting more irritated.

"I handed it in...and...you haven't graded it," he mutters, avoiding eye contact.

This was probably what I sounded like a month ago. Huh. Interesting. "You came here to tell me something that I already know?" Castien drawls, eyes narrowing.

"I was just wondering..." Patrick stammered. I felt bad for him.

"Is that all?" he said dismissively. Patrick nods. "Then leave. It'll be up sometime tomorrow."

He left, quite quickly, barely closing the door behind him. After several seconds of silence, I bit my lip, the words already coming out.

"Would it be wrong if I said that was hot?" I asked.

Castien glanced at me, tilting his head with almost an amused look on his face. "Why?"

"You almost made him cry," I muttered, wrapping my arms around his neck.

"I make you cry all the time," he replied cockily, his face barely an inch from mine.

I laughed. "That would explain why it's a turn on to me."

"That's fucked up," he murmured.

Then, I kissed him again, my hands getting lost in his thick, dark, hair.

It was about halfway through fucking, I realized something. I gasped, my eyes rolling into the back of my head.

"We-" I whimpered, my wrists firmly pressed against his desk with his hands, his weight pressuring it to a near breaking point. "Your door," I whispered.

"What?" he asked, snapping his hips into me.

"We didn't lock your door," I moaned.

He smirked. "You want me to stop?"

"No, sir," I mumbled. He pounded into me, picking up his pace at an alarming rate. I cried out, feeling like I was being painfully split open. My fingers curled, but they were allowed no range of motion. "Professor, please..." I whined.

My eyes slipped shut, feeling my insides ricochet from the intensity of the stimulation. My legs were spread for him and his thick cock forced my hole to stretch around as he sank himself into me with no sign of stopping.

I don't think there was nearly enough lube, but nonetheless, he fucked me, making my mind go numb. "Fuck," Castien hissed, moving faster and rougher all of a sudden.

Within a few more minutes, the door was locked and I was very, very wet and sticky.

"That was a terrible idea," I mumbled, wiping myself with a tissue. "My walk of shame just got more shameful."

Castien's lips twitched, but he sat back down in his chair, fixing his tie, not replying. He was wearing a suit, as usual, but I couldn't really look at him without imagining the bare skin and tattoos underneath. He did look good in a suit though. But he just looked so much better without anything on.

"What are you thinking?"

Damn. How did he do that? "Nothing," I answered automatically, finishing wiping myself.

"You're lying," he countered flatly.

I looked away, my face burning up now. "I'm not."

He blinks, staring blankly at me. "You're blushing."

"I'm not," I repeated.

He runs his hand absentmindedly through my hair, pushing my hair away from my face. "Your walk of shame will get a lot worse if you keep lying," he warned.

I glared at him but he remains unfazed. I relented, pursing my lips. "Your tattoos," I murmured. He waited for me to go on. "Do they have a meaning?"

His shoulders stiffen and he pressed his lips together into consideration. Considering if he should tell me, I guessed. "The one on my left arm's a family crest," he answered quietly. "All my brothers have it."

I smiled. I don't think he realized how cute he could be. "Brothers? More than one?"

He looked away distractedly, shifting the set of papers on his desk and sliding them into a drawer. "Four."

"Four brothers?" I asked, surprised. "Oh. I met one of them."

His jaw clenched and he scowled, lips curling in distaste. "Yes."

Hmm. He did not look happy about that at all. I had assumed that he had told his brother about me otherwise, Hale, I remembered, wouldn't have looked so happy to meet me. "He's really..." Hale was one of the most handsome guys I had ever met. He, however, looked nothing like his brother. Blonde and on the leaner side. Blue eyes, pale skin, and he was smiling. To this day, I had not seen Professor Castien smile, much less laugh.

"Really what?" he said harshly. I raised a brow at his tone.

I couldn't exactly find the right word. "Pretty," I decided. Castien scowled and I frown. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Like what?"

"Like you're going to kill me."

He didn't even acknowledge that he heard me. I had a sneaking suspicion why he was looking at me like that but I kept my mouth shut. I was wrong. Probably.

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