Chapter 52 Sweet Torture
Will’s P.O.V.
The next day, as Iva walks into the classroom, everything stops around me for a moment.
For an entire month, I’ve sat here, heartbroken, watching her from a distance, waiting for her one glance, pretending she wasn’t mine. And she never looked at me. Not once. That killed me more than any wound.
But today… today is different.
The second her heels click against the floor, her eyes find me. Just one hungry look, filled with neediness, my chest burns with the rush of finally having her back. Fuck, I’ve missed that look. The look that says she belongs to me.
And then I see it.
The necklace. The one I fastened around her neck last night with my hands. It gleams against her throat, resting perfectly above her blouse like a silent claim. My claim.
She’s mine again. Completely.
And I promise myself that I’m never taking that necklace away from her again. It only belongs to her.
As always, she looks so hot and bold in her outfit, a blue pencil skirt with a slit in the middle, a white shirt tucked in with the top two buttons undone, a brown belt around her waist, and maroon heels. Damn, I love the entire look of her. And today, I’m going to ruin it.
I lean back in my seat at the last desk, crossing my arms with a smile as she turns towards the board with chalk in hand. She’s trying to hold onto that strict-professor image in front of her students, behaving like nothing is happening, but I know what’s buried in her hole.
A little toy.
I had slipped a ball vibrator into her palm this morning, ordering in her ear, “Put it inside your little hole, Professor. You’re going to teach with this on. And remember, your punishment isn’t over. I’ll decide when it is.”
Now, watching her with the vibrator deep inside her, I nearly groan at the sight. God, the way she struggles to keep her composure in front of an entire classroom. It’s perfection.
Damn! It’s making me hard.
For two weeks, I thought I’d lost her, and I thought I’d never see her look at me with that surrender in her eyes again. It was killing me every day watching her so distant from me, but I’m glad she gave me a second chance. Now I promise I’ll never let a single tear roll down her cheeks because of me.
Almost a month without her obedience. And now here she is, standing at the front of the classroom, pretending to be in control while I sit in the back with the real power in my hands.
The vibrator remote.
My thumb brushes over the button, and I don’t wait long before pressing it and turning the vibrator on.
As the first vibration hits, her body stiffens immediately. A tiny shift in her stance, her chalk pausing just slightly on the board. No one else notices, but I do. I notice everything.
I lean back in my chair, watching her fight it. She tries to continue her lecture, voice steady, but her fingers tighten around the chalk like she might crush it. Her thighs press together under that modest skirt, betraying her.
As I increase the speed. She stops while speaking. My grin widens. The way she catches herself, clearing her throat, forcing that professional tone, it’s fucking beautiful. She thinks she can still hide, still maintain her perfect mask while I destroy her from across the room.
My cock hardens instantly as I watch her swallow down a moan that almost slips out.
I turn off the vibrator, and she exhales in relief, her eyes flicking to me. Her glasses slide slightly down her nose, her gaze wide and desperate. I tilt my head, smirking like the devil she knows I am. One touch of my thumb, and her whole body is mine again.
God, I’ve missed this. Missed the control. Missed watching her pretend to resist when she’s already ruined inside.
I press the button again, slow pulses this time. She shifts her weight, crossing one leg over the other as if that could help, but I know better. She’s soaking. Trembling. Losing herself right there in front of her students.
Her hand grips the desk for balance when I set the vibrations to their highest.
Her eyes flick back to me, full of pleading, begging for mercy, and I mouth the words slowly. “Not yet.”
Like that, I torture her until the lecture ends. She takes her punishment so well, not a single person suspects what’s hidden deep inside her. Only I know. Only I know her dark fantasies, her surrender. She controls this entire class, yet in front of me, she is under my control.
That thought alone turns me on to the next level.
That’s why I love this woman. The way she surrenders to me. The way she gives me her control. The way she trusts me. The way she loves me. I feel so fucking blessed to have her in my life.
And now, this woman deserves a reward which only I can give her. Right here. In this classroom.
God, my cock throbs even harder just imagining it.
Students begin leaving, one by one. She gathers her files and papers into her handbag, forcing her hands to stay steady, pretending nothing is wrong. One student walks up to her, asking a question, and she starts to answer, until I press the button again. Highest setting.
Fuck, I love playing with her.
Her expression is so fucking beautiful. Gasps between words, her thighs pressing together, her knuckles clutching the handbag like it’s the only thing keeping her grounded. The student frowns, confused, but before she can suspect anything, I lower the speed.
Relief floods Iva’s face as she steadies herself and answers normally.
I know she loves it when I tease her like this. I know it turns her on just as much as it does me.
My friends already know everything is fine between us. I told them last night. That’s why they leave the class without waiting, saying a quick goodbye. They know I’ll be busy with my professor now.
Thank God it’s the last lecture. No one’s coming back. And now… we have unlimited time.
The second the last student walks out, I rise from my seat at the back, smirk carved into my face, and stalk toward her.
She doesn’t move. Doesn’t even breathe. She grips the desk with both hands like it’s the only thing keeping her upright after the sweet torture.
Her chest rises and falls. Her glasses are slightly fogged. Her eyes are wide. Pleading.
I stop in front of her.
“Close the door, Professor,” I order in a deep, dominating voice.
Her breath quickens instantly and her body trembles just from my command. That’s what I love about her, the way she reacts to just one word from me.
She walks toward the door without a single word. God, she is so submissive.
All mine.
I tortured her the entire lecture, but she never once complained. And now, without hesitation, she follows my order. The way she trusts me, always touches my heart.
She locks the door, walks back to me, and waits for her next order.
“Did you enjoy your punishment?” I ask, threading my fingers into her hair.
“No, Master. It was so difficult to act normal in front of all the students,” she admits, staring up at me innocently.
A few minutes ago, she looked bold and powerful, commanding the classroom with her professor’s authority. But with me, she is my submissive. Her eyes are full of surrender, ready to take anything and everything I give her.
God, I’m getting harder with every second. I can’t wait another moment to fuck her after one month of starving for her.
I grip her waist, lifting her up, and place her on the desk.
“Spread your legs and take that tiny thing out yourself.” My voice is rough and commanding.
She doesn’t hesitate. Her fingers push her blue slit pencil skirt up, gathering it around her waist. She slides her panties down, exposing herself, and spreads her legs wide, showing me her glistening, fresh pussy.
My breath deepens at the sight, her maroon heels still on, her white shirt tucked tightly into her skirt, her bare thighs spread open for me. The necklace resting at her throat screams that she is mine.
It’s everything. And it’s killing me from the inside, how much I need her.
Her hand trails down, and my eyes follow as her fingers brush against her lips. She spreads herself open and pushes her fingers inside.
Watching her touch herself is intense, hot as fuck. I just stand there, watching, devouring every movement, every reaction, every flicker of expression on her face.
“Look at me, bitch,” I command when her eyes shift downward as she works her fingers inside herself.
Instantly, she obeys, her gaze locking on mine while her hand continues moving between her thighs.
She pulls the ball out, glistening from her wetness, and I close the distance between us. I take it from her hand and toss it onto the table.
“You took your punishment so well, Professor,” I praise, my hands gripping her waist as I stand between her open legs.
“Thank you, Master,” she replies in a teasing tone.
“My bitch deserves a reward, right?” I ask, watching her eyes light up at the word.
“Yes!”
“Yes, what?” My hand smacks hard against her pussy, making her jolt with a cry.
“Yes, Master!” she screams.