Chapter Eight
Walker
Jesus Christ, I’m going to hell. I just ended my class fifteen minutes early because my cock is rock hard. What the fuck am I doing?
Rosie bounces down the lecture steps, a big smile on her face, her breasts bouncing, that soft red hair wavy behind her.
“You did great, little girl.” I lean and kiss her forehead, realizing in the moment we haven’t even had a proper kiss yet.
Lord, this is messed up. I’ve skipped so many steps. So many steps she deserves.
If I’m going to do this, which I clearly am, I need to slow it down. I know that. My body, though, doesn’t get the memo. My body reacts the same way it did the other night, except this time it’s more eager, more desperate.
I grip her waist and lift her up onto the corner of my desk, watching her expression change from happy little angel to needy little devil in a matter of seconds.
She’s against my lips, my hands are in her hair, our tongues are wild, and though anyone could walk in at any second, there’s no way I can stop. It’s like my intellectual brain is offline and someone else has taken over.
Even the sounds I’m making don’t sound like me. They’re broken, wild, and hungry.
My cock presses forward, and she grabs hold of it with her tiny little hand. “It looks like you’re having more urges, professor. Should I take care of these for you?”
Fucking hell.
My dick pulses against her soft palm as she unzips my slacks with a squeal, letting them drop to the floor in the lecture hall.
“You’ve made me jealous, little girl. Letting that boy flirt with you.” My jaw clenches. “I took it easy on your punishment, but now… you’re going to make me come.”
My heart slams against my chest. This is wrong. This is super fucking wrong. A student, Dean Andrews, anyone, could walk in at any moment and I’d be totally fucked. Everything I’ve worked for would be gone. For some reason, none of that stops me.
In fact, I keep moving like this all makes complete sense. I tuck my hand between her thick thighs, tug her panties to the side, and drive my hard cock into her tight, little, virgin pussy with no condom, like I have every right to be there.
“Ouch!” She swallows hard as she pants.
Guilt washes over me. I’m not being careful.
Jesus Christ, Walker. She’s a virgin.
A moment of clarity surfaces with her pain. “I’m so sorry. I’m—”
“No! Don’t stop. It feels good. It’s just… you’re big and I’m—”
“Tight. You’re so tight.” I press her thighs apart further, trying to make room for my cock, but it’s a fruitless effort.
I bury my head into the soft crook of her neck as I attempt another inch forward. “You know what this means, right?”
She hums low as she slides back and forth against the top of my mahogany desk, her tits spilling from her shirt. “Does it mean I get an ‘A’ in this class?”
“Oh,” I fuck her tight, little pussy harder, “you aced the whole fucking thing. You’re going to get whatever the hell you want for the rest of your life, but it comes with a catch. You’ll belong to me and only me going forward.” My voice is rough as I groan and thrust into her innocent, little body.
“You’d like it if I belonged to you, wouldn’t you?” she pants. “I saw the look on your face when Greg touched my arm.”
“Don’t say his name again,” I growl, pounding against her little pussy. “You only see me. You’re mine.”
The entire campus could be standing behind us, videotaping every fucking word I say, and I wouldn’t care right now. Hell, I think a part of me would invite it. I want a record of this. A record of the moment I claimed this little princess as my own and made her mine. I want a record of the moaning and the panting, of her cries as I took her virginity like a thief on the edge of my fucking desk.
“Oh,” she squeals, “right there.” She digs her nails into my shoulders. “I like that.”
Whatever spot I’m hitting puts a wild smile on her face, so I lift her little ass off the desk and thrust into her harder, bouncing her against my cock as I kick off my slacks and turn in circles.
