Chapter 125

Fig’s POV

My office deck is scattered with a mockery of order as my mind is filled with Alison Blake, her absence from my texts a festering wound that’s kept me hard and restless since Sunday. Those messages—“Can’t get you out of my head. Dying to bang you again”—hang unanswered, her silence a taunt that fuels my obsession, my cock throbbing at the memory of Friday night. The club bathroom, her pussy tight around me, her moans drowning the music; my car, her breasts bouncing as she rode me as I suck on them, her nails marking my skin—every moment is seared into me, her wildness a drug I’m addicted to.

I’ve fucked with lots of students before, but Alison’s different, a siren who matches my hunger, and her ignoring me is a game I’m losing, my anger and desire a tangled, tuning to a burning knot.

This morning English class replays—her late entrance, golden hair catching the light, skirt teasing her thighs,a thin veil for my fury at her silence. Her calm “I overslept” was a lie, her eyes defiant, mocking, and I wanted to drag her here then, fuck her senseless, make her scream my name.

I’m leaning back in my chair, my tie loosened, my cock half-hard, imagining her bent over this desk, her panties ripped, my thrusts punishing, when the door clicks open. My eyes snap up, and there she is—Alison, slipping inside, locking the door, her blazer hugging her curves, her skirt a sinful tease, her lips curved in a wicked smirk. My breath catches, desire slamming through me, my cock is fully hard now, straining against my pants. “Alison,” I growl, standing, my voice rough, “you think you can waltz in here after ignoring me?”

She steps closer, her hips swaying, her perfume—jasmine and musk—wrapping around me like a snare. “Missed me, sir?” she purrs slowly, unbuttoning her blazer, revealing cleavage that makes my mouth water, her voice low, sexy, and daring.

“I’ve been… busy.” She perches on my desk, legs parting slightly, her skirt riding up, exposing those sexy creamy thighs, and I’m done, my control snapping like a frayed wire.

I’m on her in a flash, my hands rough, yanking her blazer open, buttons scattering, my mouth crashing into hers, my tongue thrusting, hungry, desperate. She moans, her nails clawing my neck, her body arching, her tits pressing against my chest, her hunger matching mine. I rip her shirt, her bra pushed up, her nipples hard, begging, and I suck one into my mouth, biting, her gasp a spark that ignites me. “You fucking tease,” I snarl, spinning her, bending her over the desk, papers crumpling, her ass high, her skirt flipped up. I yank her panties down, her pussy glistening, wet, ready, and I groan, my cock aching, my fingers finding her slick, thrusting inside, her walls clenching, her moans loud, unashamed.

“You ignored me,” I growl, unzipping my pants, letting my cock spring free, hard, massive, “but you’re mine now.” I slam into her, no warning, my thrusts brutal, deep, her pussy tight, gripping me, her screams muffled against the desk. I grip her hips, pounding, each thrust a punishment for her silence, a claim to own her wildness. “You feel that?” I ask, my hand smacking her ass, the crack echoing, her skin reddening, her moaning sound that drives me wilder. “This is what you get for playing games.”

She pushes back, meeting my thrusts, her body yielding but fierce, her voice husky. “Harder, sir.” It’s a dare, and I lose it, fucking her with everything I have,with the desk shaking, her pussy milking me, her orgasm building, her moans filling me in. She comes hard, her walls clenching, stars bursting behind my eyes, and I follow, spilling inside her, my groan raw, my body trembling, her name a curse on my lips.

We’re panting, her body limp over the desk, my cum dripping down her thigh, but I’m not done. I pull out, spin her again, her eyes glassy, her lips swollen, and I kiss her, rough, possessive, my hand smacking her ass again, the sting making her gasp. “I want to fuck you like this every day,” I growl, my voice thick, my cock already hardening, her body a drug I can’t quit. “You’re mine, Alison. Every fucking day.” I push her against the desk again, lifting her, her legs wrapping around me, her pussy still wet, inviting. I thrust into her again, quick, brutal, a second fuck to mark her, to claim her, my hands gripping her thighs, her moans loud, her nails raking my shoulders. It’s fast, dirty, her orgasm hitting again, her pussy squeezing me, and I come again, a sharp, intense release, my breath ragged, her body trembling beneath me.

I pull out, her panties still around her knees, her skirt a crumpled mess, and she smirks, adjusting herself, her eyes defiant, untouchable, even after I’ve fucked her senseless.

“See you in class, sir,” she purrs slowly and fucking sexy, her voice a tease, and she’s gone, slipping out, her walk deliberate, her ass swaying, knowing I’m watching, my cock twitching, my body still burning. I collapse into my chair, my office is a total wreck now, papers scattered everywhere, her scent still lingering, my skin marked by her nails, my cum still on her thighs. She’s a wildfire, a danger I shouldn’t chase, but I’m hooked, her silence a game I’ll win, her body a battlefield I’ll conquer.

I think of Crew, her real target, the way she flirted with him after the test, ignoring Lily, her eyes hungry for him, not me. It pisses me off, knowing I’m a pawn, a toy she uses to sate her lust while she chases him. But I don’t care—as long she’s under my skin, her pussy, her moans, her power a drug I’ll keep taking. I’ll fuck her again, tomorrow, the next day, in my office, a closet, anywhere, my cock claiming her, her body mine, even if her heart’s with him. The school day looms, but my mind’s on her, on the next time I’ll bend her over, smack her ass, fuck her until she’s screaming, until she’s as obsessed as I am. Alison Blake is my addiction, and I’ll have her, every day, no matter the cost, no matter who burns.