Wow. That level of honesty was seriously rare. ‘What do the Elders think about me?’
He looked a little troubled. ‘I’m afraid I can’t say. Know this, child, powerful people make strong rulers, but only strong-minded individuals make great rulers.’
‘Your first class is ethics, dear. It’s just at the end of this corridor; you’ll find it,’ he said, finally dismissing me.
Huh. If he were a little younger, I’d think he was hitting on me. Interesting school.
The ethics classroom was a minute’s worth of a walk away, and the girl—Cindy—already waited for me there. ‘We meet again.’
‘Yes, Your Highness,’ she said, beaming. ‘Would you like me to accompany you to class today?’
Hm. Did I? While it would make the situation of being the only student less awkward, I needed to grow thicker skin. ‘No, Cindy. It’s fine, you can have a day off and do whatever you like.’
Cindy hugged me so quickly I didn’t anticipate it. ‘Thank you, my queen. I will see you again tomorrow, and hopefully, you’ll let me serve you then.’
Then she left, waving her hand. I waved back. There was something off with this girl, but I thought I kind of liked it.
Not that I could dwell on it much because the moment the doors to the ethics class opened, my legs might have given out simultaneously.
The ethics professor would soon learn just how immoral I could be.
Chapter Forty-Two
Willow
My heart pounded to the rhythm of the professor’s thrusts. His brand of passion was vicious, like he intended to destroy whatever innocence still remained within me.
Speeding up to the point I could no longer compile coherent thoughts, I felt his hands travel the length of my body, grabbing, and holding on to my soft skin.
Ravenous, the only word that could describe the way he inhaled, then drove into me. Like he owned the moment, the pleasure, and even me.
His broad left hand stopped on my hip, scratching the sensitive skin to mark the territory he conquered. Each scratch followed a deep thrust that filled me so deliciously I could barely remember where I was.
The strong hold of his other hand barely allowed me to breathe as he pinned me against his desk, my back pressed to the cold wood—my body entirely at his mercy.
The roughness of his movements wasn’t something I expected out of a morality expert, yet he thrashed and slammed himself into me so hard I needed to grab his arm for support. Still, my head banged against the wall hard enough that my ears rang.
With it came the overwhelming need to climax. It built stronger and stronger, but he wouldn’t allow it.
Torture.
Letting go of my hip, he shoved a hand under my dress and pinched the peaks of my breasts, making me shiver and try to break out of his hold.
It was too much. I needed release.
He smirked, slamming his lips on mine and occupying my mouth entirely. With no room to move or object, he did with me whatever he pleased, keeping me on edge and slowing down every time I chased my end.
And every time I grew agitated, he held my neck tighter, making the lack of oxygen cloud my judgement.
I shouldn’t have enjoyed it.
But the way he moaned against me, the way he purred ‘good girl’ in my ear, biting it until I squeaked in pain… It was hot and disturbing, and I chose to allow him to do with me as he desired.
He chased his release by relentlessly pounding away, making me shake with need for my own. Then he cried out, spasming and crashing me against his muscled chest, holding me immobile as we came undone together.
Just as quickly, he set me down and put his shirt back on.
Not too bad. At least he could finish me off.
