Reynolds gazed at me for a long moment, nodding his head to Mr. Williams and then handing him my phone. Reynolds gathered his belongings and walked right out of the room. Everett lingered by the door.
Mr. Williams gazed over at him. "I'll meet you back at the house for dinner," he said. "I need to talk to Miss Mila beforehand about"-he held up my phone-"this. Don't wait up for either of us."
Everett nodded his head and left the room, leaving me alone with Mr. Williams in a deserted college business class. He walked to the front of the desk, leaned against it, and crossed one leg over the other.
I huffed to myself and trudged over to him, trying not to look too excited about this. Because I wasn't. I really, really wasn't. Definitely wasn't.
I stared up at him, gaze lingering on the bulge in the front of his pants.
He held up my phone. "Do you think that the little stunt you pulled was funny?" he asked, brow raised.
"Depends," I said, batting my lashes at him. "Did it make you hard?"
He placed the phone down on the desk, stepped around me, and placed his large hands on my shoulders, squeezing. "Why don't you tell me?" he asked.
Instead of pressing himself against me like I thought he would, he didn't move. Just waited.
So, I reached behind me, placing my hand directly against the front of his pants, and grasped his hard cock through the material.
He curled a hand around the front of my throat and pulled me harshly against him, his lips against my ear.
"How could I not get hard, seeing you dressed in a short miniskirt, nipples pressing against your tank top, begging for me to just tug on them?" He trailed his fingers down my chest and grasped my breast.
He pushed his hips harder against my ass, letting me feel his huge cock. "Watching you press your legs together for the past hour because you couldn't handle the pressure in your tight little cunt."
I sucked in a deep breath, pushing my knees together even more.
"I bet you were wet for me the moment I walked through that door."
I shifted from foot to foot, the ache becoming almost unbearable.
He tugged on my nipple through my shirt and said, "Am I wrong?"
I closed my eyes and shook my head, unable to even mutter the quietest no.
"Good, now … on your knees for me, Mila."
My eyes widened. "But … but anyone could just walk right in."
His lip curled into a smirk. "They could." He pushed me down onto my knees, slid his finger under my chin, and made me gaze up at him. "And they'd see you on your knees with my cock all the way down your throat. Is that a problem?"
I parted my lips, and he pushed his bulge toward me. "Yes, that's a problem," I said.
"Mila, I have enough money to keep them quiet a hundred times over. I have enough resources to destroy their lives-if I didn't want anyone knowing that you belong to me now."
I furrowed my brows. "I belong to you?" I shook my head. "I do not belong to-"
He shoved his cock into my mouth and down my throat. I gagged on his hardness, eyes immediately filling with tears at how much of him had easily slid all the way down my throat. I grasped my neck, feeling it so deep inside of me that I clenched.
"If you're not mine, Mila, why're you on your knees for me? Why do you have my cock down your throat? Why do you keep sending me those dirty little pictures of you?"
I clenched, my pussy throbbing. I opened my mouth wider to respond to him, but all that came out were wet gagging sounds as his cock hit the back of my throat over and over again. I stared up at him through my lashes, spit dripping down my chin and soaking through my shirt.
He shoved himself down my throat, thrusting harder and harder each time. With his hands laced into my hair, he pulled me toward him. I gazed up at him through teary eyes, the silent room filled with my wet gagging sounds.
He slowed down his pace, pulled his cock out of my mouth, wiped his hand over the spit dripping off my chin, and then rubbed it all over my swollen lips and into all of my makeup.
He slapped his cock against my bottom lip a couple times, pushed himself back into me slowly, and smirked down at me.
With his cock pressed against the inside of my cheek, he slapped it lightly. I stared up at him through my lashes.
"God, Mila," he said. "I love ruining you." Another light slap. "I love the power you give me." He chuckled menacingly, slapping the head of his cock through my cheek again. "I don't even have to try. You just dig yourself into a deeper and deeper hole every time I see you."
I sucked on the head of his cock, swirling my tongue around it. I clenched my throbbing core, wanting nothing more than for him to fuck me already.
He slowly pulled himself out of me, and I sucked hard on him. His cock sprang out of my mouth with a loud pop.
He tugged me to my feet, turned me around, shoved me against Professor Reynolds's desk, and plunged a hand into my pants.
He moved his fingers in circles around my clit, and I grasped on to the desk, trying to stop my knees from buckling.
"What would your father think when word gets out that you're failing your business class?"
I parted my lips, brows furrowed together, trying not to moan … because all I fucking wanted to do was scream his name.