Professor Derrick Kemper had a problem. A problem with long honey-blond hair and hypnotic cobalt-blue eyes. A problem that was currently sitting in the back row of his lecture hall, sucking absentmindedly on a cherry Blow Pop.

He’d thought the candy would be a nice gesture, one that would placate his students. It was, after all, Halloween, and he knew they’d be restless—ready for a night of revealing costumes and cheap booze and bad decisions. This way, he figured, they’d at least keep quiet through the lecture and everyone would make it out alive.

At this moment, however, he wasn’t sure he would make it out of his Shakespeare class alive. His eyes kept flitting back to her, the way her lips stretched around the lollipop, the dart of her tongue, and he was increasingly regretting the candy. And simultaneously hailing it as a stroke of genius.

Her name was Leah, and had Derrick been a sentimental man, he’d have said that he was halfway in love with her. She was beautiful, with curves that should have been illegal, and smart as fuck. She really loved Shakespeare, and Derrick could always count on her for a bit of banter.

As Derrick prided himself on not, in fact, being a sentimental man, he’d at least admit that he’d consider giving his right hand for the chance to fuck her. Which, of course, as her professor, he’d never have the chance to do.

Tearing his gaze away from Leah and her candy-coated lips (but not before catching her shift the lollipop between her teeth), Derrick cleared his throat and shuffled his notes for today’s lecture. He’d planned a discussion of Romeo and Juliet that he was rather proud of, focusing on Juliet as the most complex character in the play and the reasons Shakespeare might have made that decision.

Although he managed to keep himself from glancing at Leah for the majority of his lecture, as he opened up the floor for class discussion, Derrick’s gaze landed—as it often did—on her. “What are your thoughts on Juliet’s character?”

She spoke right away, as if they alone were having this discussion rather than an entire class. Perhaps she knew he cared most what she had to say.

“I think one of the most interesting things about Juliet,” she said, licking her lips (which he noticed were now stained slightly red), “is the agency she expresses despite her societal confinement and the pressures she faces from her father, from Paris, and even from Romeo to some extent.”

Derrick nodded. “And how do we see Juliet behave in a way that doesn’t fit the expectations of society? How does she assert herself?”

“A dozen ways,” she answered, leaning forward (and Derrick really tried not to stare at her cleavage). “But, for example, during this time period—one could argue, even now—women were shamed or otherwise punished for enthusiastically anticipating sexual intimacy or engaging in sexual acts. They were to be innocent, modest. Juliet instead asserts her sexuality—‘O, I have bought the mansion of love, But not possessed it, and though I am sold, not yet enjoy’d…’—as she eagerly awaits sex with Romeo.”

He swallowed—hard—and as he did, he saw her eyes flick to his bobbing Adam’s apple and back up to meet his gaze. He’d almost swear there was a mischievous (and pleased) glint in her eye.

He was drawing a complete blank on how to respond, which was ridiculous. She had him feeling like she’d just bent over his desk and presented her pussy to him, but she hadn’t even said anything that provocative. In fact, it was a good observation, interesting, well spoken. But the way her voice wrapped around Juliet’s words made him want to ensure that she was very thoroughly enjoyed—and he could think about little else.

Luckily, another student had already added his opinion to the mix, and now several of them were discussing Juliet’s relationship with Romeo, so Derrick’s silence went unnoticed—although he was pretty sure he felt Leah’s eyes on him still.

He let them debate for a few more minutes before reining them in and dismissing them with a reminder of the paper due next week.

Derrick was gathering his notes for the next class when someone cleared their throat. “Professor?”

He’d been trying so hard to keep his eyes off her that he jumped when he realized she was just across the desk and almost knocked over his coffee.

Cursing internally, Derrick smiled at her, hoping he looked professional and approachable rather than crazed. “Yes, Leah?”

He tried not to notice the pale line of her throat, tried not to imagine his fingers against it. He tried not to imagine her hand on the back of his head, fingers tangling in his short hair when he—

“I was hoping to come by your office this afternoon so you might help me with my paper, maybe give me a few suggestions. Would that be okay?”

That would be amazing, Derrick thought. It would probably also be agonizing. He didn’t say either of these things, however, and opted instead for, “Of course. My office hours begin at two. Come by anytime after that and you’ll have my full attention.” As usual.

She beamed, and he suddenly felt the need to adjust himself. “Thank you, Professor,” she chirped. “I’ll see you then!”

As he watched her swaying hips retreat, he barely stifled a groan. Had he really just agreed to be alone with her when he spent most of his lectures talking himself out of shoving her to her knees in front of the entire class, ramifications be damned? What had he gotten himself into?

***

He spent the rest of the morning throwing himself wholeheartedly into his lectures and avoided the dining hall at lunch. After a particularly satisfying discussion on Don Quixote, he’d almost forgotten why he was so nervous.

But as the clock in his office ticked off the last few minutes before two o’clock, Derrick seriously considered locking his door, turning off the lights, and pretending to be elsewhere. That, or jumping out the window.

He mentally cursed himself. He needed to get a grip on his self-control. Surely he could spend an hour alone with this girl without bending her over his desk. He spent lots of time with dozens of attractive—and available—women without feeling so on edge. Why should she be any different?

Derrick was slumped over his desk, head in hands, when the knock came.

“Come in,” he called, running a hand through his hair and hoping he looked calm and collected.

The door creaked open, and she appeared around it, that mind-numbing smile on her face. “Good afternoon, Professor.”

“Hello, Leah.” He couldn’t help but smile back at her. “How’s your day been?”

“Great,” she responded, settling into the chair he motioned to. “We’re covering fantasy right now in Genre Studies. It’s my favorite.”

“Mine, too,” he admitted, smile still in place. “So, what about your paper would you like to discuss?”

He watched as she leaned over to rummage in her bag on the floor. Her hair slid across her bare shoulders, and Derrick wondered what it would feel like wrapped around his fist. He followed the slide of her hair, noticing the way the vee of her dress’s neckline revealed the shadowy valley between her breasts. His mouth went dry.

“Ah! Here it is,” she reported, sitting back up to face him.

He snapped his eyes away from her cleavage so fast he felt a little dizzy, but she seemed not to notice.

“I’ve actually finished the paper,” she continued. “I’d love your feedback—if you have the time to skim it, of course.”

With a chuckle, Derrick raised an eyebrow. “Of course you’ve already finished it.”

And fuck. Now Leah was blushing, soft pink slipping over her cheekbones, her gaze cast downward and her bottom lip between her teeth.

He cleared his throat. “It would be my pleasure to look this over. You’re welcome to chill here while I do… or if you’ve got other places to be—”

“No,” she said quickly. “I don’t have anywhere else to be.”

He met her eyes as she handed him the paper, and there was something in them he couldn’t quite decipher. It was probably just his own wishful thinking that it looked like lust. Their fingertips brushed, and suddenly her lip was being worried between her teeth again.

As Derrick skimmed her paper, he couldn’t help but be impressed. She wrote beautifully, and her argument was well thought out and well researched.

He felt her eyes on him, and when he glanced up, her lip was still between her teeth.

Skimming again over the passage he’d just read, he thought of a suggestion. “Here,” he said, pointing, “where you mention Lady Macbeth, I’d love for you to bring in more textual evidence from that play. I see your point, but you could really drive it home with—”

The end of that sentence flew out of his head, because she was suddenly hovering over his shoulder, probably to get a better look at the section he was talking about. She smelled edible, like cookies—cinnamon and sugar—and, God, did he want to taste her.

She leaned forward slightly to run her finger across a line of text. Derrick knew she was saying something, maybe asking a question, but he was distracted. She was so close that her hair brushed across his cheek, her breasts pressed against his shoulder.

“Professor?”

He cleared his throat, the words she’d spoken falling together like puzzle pieces into the question he’d missed. “Yes, exactly. If you add that in and add it to the play-within-a-play bit, the text from As You Like It, the historical detail, and the theatrical staging you’ve already covered, I’d say this piece is damn near doctorate-level work.”

She shifted back, no longer touching him. It was a good thing, because if she kept leaning directly over him, she’d definitely notice his dick pressing against his zipper. “Thank you, Professor,” she said. “For the compliment, and for your help.”

She was still so close—dangerously close—and he avoided looking at her, shuffling some papers around on his desk.

Hoping to sound like the respected professor he was and not the virginal teenage boy she made him—or at least his dick—feel like, Derrick said, “It’s the least I could do, Leah. You’re my best student, after all. A true pleasure to teach.”

He winced as soon as the words were out. It was true, sure, but he shouldn’t admit it to her, especially not because he was currently thinking about all the things he could teach her besides Shakespeare.

She was silent. And then, so quietly he might have imagined it, she responded, “The least you could do? What else could you do for me, Professor?”

His head snapped toward her. Her eyes were dark, and the corners of her mouth twitched up as if she were laughing at him.

God, he was so fucked.

Before he could think too much about it, he’d spun his chair toward her. She was still close enough that it knocked her off balance, and she’d probably have fallen if he hadn’t grabbed her around the waist and yanked her onto his lap.

She gasped, bracing her hands on his shoulders as she pitched forward. When she’d recovered, she huffed a laugh and brought their mouths together. She tasted just like she smelled—fucking delicious—and he wanted to eat her alive.

Derrick groaned as she bit his bottom lip. He pulled back. “I definitely should not be doing this.”

Leah grinned against his mouth. “Of course you should be doing this, Professor. You’re supposed to teach me, aren’t you?” She kept rolling her hips against him in a way that had him gritting his teeth to keep from groaning. “Teach me what I should do.”

Derrick had a feeling she knew exactly what to do, but he wasn’t in the mood to argue. Instead, he gripped the backs of her thighs and drew her to him as he stood.

She squealed in surprise, her arms and legs wrapping around him.

He sat her on the edge of his desk, and she let her legs drop, feet dangling above the floor, thighs open around his hips.

“I do have something to demonstrate to you,” Derrick murmured against her ear. He let his fingers wander along the soft skin of her inner thighs, just above her knees. “Consider it a sort of reward for all the hard work you’ve put into my class.”

He watched himself push her dress up her thighs, then paused to look up at her. She was breathing heavily, her eyes half-closed. “Would you like that, Leah?”

If he wasn’t mistaken, she blushed harder, and her voice was soft when she replied, “Yes, please.”

He let his right hand move under her dress to brush over her panties, but he froze and raised an eyebrow when he made contact.

She wasn’t wearing any panties.

She was also dripping wet.

“Did you come here expecting this, Leah?” Derrick growled, shoving two fingers inside her.

It was a little too much too fast judging by the way she yelped, but the way she squirmed on his fingers told him she liked it.

“No, sir,” Leah whimpered (and those words sounded so pretty he made a mental note to explore that more later). “I just... hoped.”

He crooked his fingers inside her. “I’m not sure whether acting like such a slut deserves a reward or a punishment.”

Something flared in her eyes, and oh yeah, she definitely liked that. He’d have to explore that later, too.

He pulled his fingers from her, and she whined, but she accepted them into her mouth when he rubbed them over her bottom lip. She sucked, her tongue swirling around the digits. Her lips were red and swollen, and he knew they would look like pure sin stretched around his cock. Later. Definitely.

Leah released his fingers with a pop, and he pressed her back by the shoulders until she was lying across his desk. Thank God he’d managed to keep it relatively free of clutter.

He gripped the backs of her knees, pushing them up and out so that she was spread open for him. She was all smooth pale skin and pretty pink pussy, flushed and glistening with arousal. He took a moment to enjoy the view, licking his lips, before shoving his face between her legs.

She gasped as he licked at her, ran his tongue up her slit, circled it around her clit. He felt her thread her fingers into his hair, pulling slightly. Derrick got the impression that she wanted him to focus on her clit, but he didn’t feel like taking orders.

He turned his head and sank his teeth into the soft skin of her inner thigh.

“Oh, fuck,” Leah moaned out, fingers twisting in Derrick’s hair.

Derrick lifted his head to look at her face, swollen lips and flushed cheeks and lust-darkened eyes. “Language,” he said sternly, but the grin on his face probably ruined the effect.

He went back to her pussy: slow, broad licks and then quick, flicking ones before he began lapping at her clit. She was writhing soon, yanking at his hair again.

Leah hissed when he pulled back and sank his teeth into her other thigh. “Shit!”

“Behave, Leah,” Derrick murmured, pressing a kiss to the bite mark.

He let go of one of her legs to add his fingers to the mix—pressing first one inside her, then two, and finally, three—as he licked her clit lazily.

When she was gasping and begging—which he was pleased to note was only a couple minutes later and completely without prompting—he sucked her clit into his mouth, circling it with his tongue as he fucked her pussy with three fingers. He let go of her other leg, pressed the thumb of his newly free hand to her asshole just as he grazed her clit with his teeth, and she was almost immediately shuddering through an orgasm, hips jerking and pussy spasming around his fingers.

A minute later, he leaned back, licking his lips, a smug smile on his face. Leah had dropped her hand from his head, and he saw now that she had a white-knuckled grip on the edge of the desk. Her eyes were closed, bottom lip between her teeth again, chest heaving.

Derrick began to ease his fingers out of her, and her eyes flew open, a soft sound of protest escaping her. He raised an eyebrow at her as he held the fingers up for her to see before sucking them into his mouth, tasting her release.

She whimpered, but she didn’t take her eyes off him.

He finished sucking the taste of her pussy off his fingers and released them from his mouth, noticing that she licked her lips as he did so. A wicked grin twisted his mouth, and he braced himself with a hand on either side of her hips, leaning forward.

“Leah,” he prompted, “is there something you want?”

Her eyes were wide, her face red. “I... I liked sucking your fingers before. I was hoping you’d let me do it again.”

He tsked. “Now, say what you mean, Leah. You mean you wanted to suck your pussy juice off my fingers, don’t you?”

She nodded, then managed to choke out a soft, “Yes, sir.” Her eyes flicked down. “I want to taste myself on your fingers.” She met his gaze again. “Please.”

Derrick chuckled. “You really are such a perfect little slut.”

He hadn’t thought it was possible, but she blushed even harder, and he saw a glimmer of pleasure in her eyes.

“If you want to taste your own pussy so badly, I have a better idea.” Derrick pushed himself backward so he was standing upright. “Come here.”

She took his proffered hand, and he pulled her up and against him, crushing her against his chest as he brought their mouths together. For a moment, as the air left his lungs and Leah wrapped her legs around his waist, he thought he’d like to spend forever just kissing her. But then she wriggled, and his still-clothed cock pressed against her slick skin, and he needed to be inside her.

Leah seemed to have the same idea, because she fumbled between them, undoing his belt and then the button and zip of his slacks before scrambling to yank them down and free his cock. It finally sprang free, and she wrapped her hand around it, squeezing lightly.

With a groan, Derrick knocked her hand away and gripped her ass, lifting her against him and angling her just right. Leah gasped into his mouth as he entered her in one deep thrust. Her arms wound around his neck, the muscles of her pussy fluttering around him. And fuck. He’d been so stupid to think it couldn’t get better than kissing. If he ever spent another moment without her arms and her legs and her entire body wrapped around his, it would be too soon.

A slow slide back until only the head of his cock spread her open and a quick, hard thrust in later, Leah broke their kiss, panting into the space between them. “Fuck,” she murmured. “Fuck, you feel...”

She trailed off, and Derrick repeated his actions, forcing a long, whining moan from her throat. “Fuck, I need...” She threw her head back.

Derrick leaned forward to suck at the pulse point at her neck. “What do you need, Leah?” he whispered against her flushed skin. “Tell me.”

Her arms slipped from around his neck, her fingers gripping at his shoulders through his shirt. “I, uh, I need... fuck!” Her sentence ended when Derrick impaled her again. “Harder. Please. Faster.”

Derrick silently thanked God, because he wasn’t sure how much longer he could have reined himself in. “Well,” he managed, “since you said please.”

With a hand in her hair, Derrick yanked Leah’s head back as he fucked into her again, setting a brutal pace that had her volume climbing by the second. Her fingers dug even harder into his shoulders, and she bucked her hips into him with what little leverage she had, searching for the angle she needed.

He knew when she found it, because she trembled in his arms and her pussy clamped down around his cock, making him growl low in the back of his throat. “Jesus, Leah, fuck.”

Her only response was a loud moan, her head thrown back. Her face was flushed, sweat glistening at her temples, and her tongue darted out to wet her kiss-swollen lips.

“God, you’re so fucking beautiful like this,” he told her, not realizing he’d said the words aloud until her eyes snapped open to look at him.

“Fuck, please tell me you’re close,” she gasped. “I’m—fuck—almost there, and I need you... God, please, Der, please.”

His name on her lips sent him over the edge, and he shoved into her once more, her eyes turning glassy and her mouth opening in a silent scream moments before his vision blurred. Leah’s pussy spasmed around his cock, and he spilled his seed inside her, thick ropes of cum coating her pussy and filling her to the brim.

A few moments later, Derrick came back to himself as Leah ran her hands over his back. He grinned at her. “You broke character a little bit there at the end.”

“Pfft. You’re one to talk. ‘God, you’re so fucking beautiful like this.’ That wasn’t your professor voice, Der. That was all you.”

He pressed a kiss to her forehead and eased his cock out of her. “Yeah, yeah. But you are so fucking beautiful like that, and it’s very distracting.”

Leah winced a little, but she smiled. “Mmm. I don’t mind the compliment.”

Derrick snorted. “Don’t I know it. You and that praise kink. Is that the reason you couldn’t bring yourself to be a bad student in this scenario?”

She stuck her tongue out at him. “Oh, shut up. You know why I chose favorite-overachiever-student over sex-for-grades-student.”

His hands slid up to cup her face. “I know. It reminds you of how we met.” He pressed his lips to hers in a soft kiss. He didn’t dare make it anything more or they’d be here another three hours. “I liked it, too.”

“Good,” she said, leaning in for one last kiss. “I should go. But I’ve got plans for our evening. A surprise.” She wiggled off the desk to stand in front of him, straightening her dress as he worked on putting everything back where it belonged.

Derrick raised an eyebrow. Leah’s surprises were always pleasurable, if not conventional. “Well, I’ve got that evening class today, so I’ll be home a little late.”

She nodded, gathering her bag from the floor. “And I’ll be waiting.” She paused, then said with a wink, “Walk me out, Professor?”

He chuckled, taking her arm and leading her down the hall to the front door. He leaned down to press a chaste kiss to her cheek, but she held him there by the shoulders, standing on tiptoes to whisper in his ear, “I wonder if anyone will notice your cum dripping down my legs between here and the car.”

And with that, she whirled out the glass door, her hips swaying as she walked down the brick path. If Derrick wasn’t mistaken, a single drop of pearly white slid down the inside of her right thigh, past the hem of her dress.

He groaned and glanced at his watch, already counting down the hours until he could rush home to Leah and her surprise.