Total pages in book: 33
Estimated words: 31985 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 160(@200wpm)___ 128(@250wpm)___ 107(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 31985 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 160(@200wpm)___ 128(@250wpm)___ 107(@300wpm)
“I don’t live far.”
My blush deepens, and before I know it, I’m melting into him and kissing him slow and deep.
“I—if I don’t check in to the dorm by two, there’ll be trouble.”
His brows arch high. “Two?”
I laugh. “Before this year, it was a ten o’clock curfew. Seniors get two a.m. though if they’ve been on campus. Like, studying or something.”
Oliver whistles, shaking his head and stroking his jaw.
“This place needs to lighten up.”
I grin. “You should mention your teaching methods at the next faculty meeting. I mean, I feel lightened up after fucking my teacher.”
He grins, his eyes sparking with fire as he shakes his head at me. “You’re a brat.”
“I know.”
I kiss him, sinking into him and snuggling close as he holds me. This time, it’s him that looks at the clock.
“Come on, I’ll walk you back.”
“Is that—”
“A good idea?” He chuckles, shaking his head before he drags his eyes to mine. “Probably not, but I don’t care, and I’m going to anyways.” He leans in, kissing me slow and softly, like this Hollywood kiss that I feel in my damn toes.
8
Anastasia
“Where the fuck were you?”
I wince, my hands pausing as they unbutton my blouse at the sound of Kempton’s voice. There’s a bitchy tone to my roommate’s voice, but in fairness it is 2:15 in the morning.
…And yet, I’m wide, freaking, awake.
I’m buzzing, actually, with the lingering sensations, and touches, and kisses from Oliver still rippling through my body and tingling across my skin. He’s just walked me back across campus to my dorm, and it feels like I’ve been walking on air. We kept a distance, obviously, as it wouldn’t have exactly gone over well if anyone had crossed paths with us to see the high school senior with her legs wrapped around her government professor’s waist and her tongue down his throat.
But, even still, we walked side-by-side, with knuckles touching, which was just enough to send shivers down my spine the entire walk back to my dorm. It was just enough touch to leave me aching for more, even with how many times he made me come tonight.
As it was, we ended up tumbling into the shadows of a pine tree around the corner from the front entrance to my dorm—me with my back against the wall of the building, moaning into Oliver’s mouth as he kissed me fiercely. I ended up being five minutes late to check-in, but with a professor there to sign me in and assure the front desk guard that I was helping him with office hours, I sailed on through.
…I’m not sure the guard would have shrugged so casually if he knew I wasn’t wearing panties under my uniform. Or that the scarf around my neck was there to hide very incriminating bruises. Or that it was the cum of the very professor who’d just signed me in that was dripping lewdly down my thigh as I desperately clasped my legs together.
“See you in class, Ms. Penworth,” Oliver had growled lowly, his eyes saying everything his lips and his hands couldn’t now that we were standing in my dorm entryway.
“See you in class,” I’d whispered back, heat blooming through me.
And then, he was gone, leaving me aching for more of his touch, and giddy with everything that’d happened.
“Ana,” Kempton hisses, grumbling as she twists under the sheets of her bed. “Where the fuck were you?”
Kempton is… prissy. I’m not going to lie, we’re all rich kids here at Winchester Academy. We’re all a little spoiled. But Kempton is the embodiment of it. Daughter of a billionaire CEO with his eye on a US Senate seat, heiress to her mother’s family’s oil fortune—you get the idea. She’s not a bad person, and we might not be best friends, but we’re appropriately friendly for being roommates. Plus, we’re on the varsity cheer squad together. But she can be, well, cold. Maybe a little bitchy.
“Detention.”
I hear her pause in her rustlings, and I take the moment to finish taking my shirt and bra off, slipping on a t-shirt before I drop my skirt and tug on some sleep shorts. I know I should shower—I mean, I can literally feel Professor Bard’s cum dripping down my thigh and already making a mess of my shorts.
But a dark, pulsing, wicked thought burns through my head, and I bite my lip as the grin spreads across my face in the darkness.
…Except, I don’t want to shower him off of me. Not yet. I want to keep him there, on my skin and in my pussy. I want the scent of him and the feel of him with me when I fall asleep.
“Wait, Professor Bard’s midnight detention? How the fuck did you pull that?” Kempton mutters.
“It was this dumb thing,” I say off-handedly as I step into our ensuite bathroom to brush my teeth. “He said I was out of line, and boom, detention.”