Chapter 146 On Your Knees
"Hello? Maintenance. Anyone still in here?"
A male voice. Older. The janitor making his rounds.
I stayed perfectly still, bent over Isla, my hand still covering her mouth, my dick throbbing inside her. We were partially hidden by the podium, but if he came down the stairs, if he walked past the first few rows—
"Lights are still on," the janitor muttered to himself.
I felt Isla's heart hammering against my chest. Felt her breath coming in short, panicked gasps against my palm. Felt her pussy clench around me, and Christ, she was getting wetter, turned on by the danger of it.
Footsteps on the stairs. Coming closer.
Every muscle in my body tensed. If he caught us—if he saw a professor balls-deep in a student—
My cock twitched inside her. The forbidden thrill of it, the absolute insanity of staying frozen like this while an erection pulsed inside her tight heat—it was the most intense thing I'd ever felt.
Isla's eyes met mine, wide and terrified and aroused all at once.
The footsteps stopped.
"Must've left them on," the janitor said, further away now. "Kids these days don't turn off nothin'."
The light switch clicked. The lecture hall plunged into darkness, lit only by the emergency exit signs casting a red glow.
The door closed. The lock clicked.
We were alone again.
I stayed still for another ten seconds, listening, making sure he was really gone. Then I slowly removed my hand from Isla's mouth.
"Oh my god," she breathed, her voice shaking. "Oh my god, we almost—"
"I know." I pulled out of her slowly, and she whimpered at the loss. My cock was still rock hard, slick with her arousal. "And you loved every second of it."
She turned to face me, leaning back against the desk, her legs still trembling. Even in the dim red light, I could see how flushed she was, how utterly debauched she looked with her dress bunched around her waist, her panties around her knees, her hair a mess.
"I did," she admitted, breathless. "That was the hottest thing I've ever—" She looked down at my erection, still standing proud. "You didn't finish."
"No," I agreed, stepping closer. "I didn't."
Her hands went to my chest, sliding down, down, until her fingers wrapped around my cock. I hissed at the contact. She stroked me slowly, her thumb swiping over the head, spreading the mixture of her wetness and my precum.
"Where do you want to finish?" she asked, her voice taking on that breathy quality that drove me insane. "In my mouth? In my pussy again?"
I grabbed her wrist, stopping her movements before I lost control. "Take off your dress."
She obeyed immediately, pulling the yellow fabric over her head and tossing it aside. Her bra followed—white lace, matching the panties still tangled around her knees. She stood before me completely naked except for her heels, and my mouth went dry.
"On your knees," I ordered.
She sank down gracefully, looking up at me with those dark eyes, her tongue darting out to wet her lips. She knew what I wanted.
"Open your mouth," I said, stroking my cock. "Tongue out."
She obeyed, and the sight of her kneeling naked in the lecture hall, mouth open and waiting, was almost enough to make me explode.
I stroked myself faster, my other hand tangling in her hair, guiding her closer. "You're such a good girl, Isla. So fucking perfect. You know that?"
She hummed in response, and the vibration made my balls tighten.
"Fuck," I groaned, my strokes becoming erratic. "I'm close. Gonna cover those pretty tits in my cum. Mark you so you remember who you belong to."
Her hands came up to cup her breasts, pushing them together, offering herself to me, and that did it.
My orgasm crashed over me like a tidal wave. I came hard, thick ropes of cum painting her chest, her neck, her chin. She gasped as I marked her, eyes wide and hungry, tongue catching a few drops. I milked every last bit onto her skin, groaning her name as pleasure whited out my vision.
When I finally stopped shaking, I looked down at her. She was a fucking masterpiece—kneeling in the darkness, covered in my cum, looking up at me like I was a god.
"Don't move," I said, my voice hoarse.
I grabbed my phone from my pocket and snapped a picture. Just one. The flash illuminated her for a split second—naked, marked, mine.
"Marcus," she protested weakly, but she didn't try to cover herself.
"Insurance," I said, though we both knew it was more than that. I wanted to remember this. Needed to.
I helped her stand, then used my dress shirt to clean her off, wiping away the evidence of what we'd done. She shivered at the gentleness of it, such a contrast to how rough I'd been moments before.
"We can't keep doing this," I said, even as I helped her back into her dress, my fingers lingering on her skin longer than necessary.
"I know," she agreed, stepping into her panties. But when she looked at me, I saw the lie in her eyes. She had no intention of stopping. Neither did I.
"Same time next week?" she asked, slinging her bag over her shoulder.
I should've said no. Should've told her this was too dangerous, too reckless, too fucking insane.
Instead, I grabbed her wrist and pulled her close one more time, kissing her hard. "My house. This weekend. I'll text you the address."
Her smile was pure sin. "Yes, Professor Bennett."
She left first, slipping out the door after checking that the hallway was clear. I waited five minutes before following, locking up the lecture hall like nothing had happened.
But as I walked to my car, I could still smell her perfume on my clothes, still taste her on my lips, still feel the phantom grip of her pussy around my cock.
I was in too deep. Way too fucking deep.
And I wasn't sure if I ought to text her my address still?
This was way too dangerous.