Page 122 of Collared by the Vampire Prince

“Now.” Zott claps his hands, and for a brief moment, I’m hopeful he’s about to dismiss us early. “Who here would like extra credit?”

Becky leaps up. “Me, sir!”

I suppress a groan. I wish I could stop her.

Zott laughs heartily. “Excellent, excellent! Come with me, Becky…”

She disappears behind the blackboard with him. I try not to look—I really do. But a sick, protective instinct pulls my gaze anyway. I slowly round the desks near the back wall, careful to avoid the vertical stone slab with its clanky chains, and angle my body just enough to peer around the edge from a distance. I tell myself I only want to make sure he isn’t hurting her.

The sight is worse than I imagined.

Becky is on her knees, hands obediently behind her back, her head bent as Zott feeds her his thick cock. I hear the slick, rhythmic sucking, the occasional choking gurgle when he pushes deeper into her throat. Saliva drips from her chin onto her uniform, her pigtails swinging as her head bobs.

“Good girl…just like that…take every inch.” Zott groans low, pudgy fingers tightening against his trousers. “Deeper.”

She chokes but keeps going, eager and desperate for his praise.

“Yes, just like that. Oh yes. You are so good, Becky. Such a good pet.”

When he finally finishes, hips stuttering, Becky swallows convulsively. Zott shudders, pets her head, and tells her she’s earned a good grade.

Heat crawls up my neck as I finally look away, my stomach churning. And worse—something low and traitorous flickers deep inside me. I crush it viciously and return to my place on the cushion.

It’s wrong.

Becky soon returns to her place beside me, her face flushed, her eyes bright with frantic pride.

“I think that went well!” She smooths her uniform with trembling hands and looks at me expectantly, waiting for my approval.

My stomach turns. I make a low sound of agreement and busy myself with my notes, my quill carving meaningless sentences into the parchment.

After a long, strained silence, she rises with a huff and rejoins her group. I drag both hands through my hair, catching fistfuls at the roots and pulling until my scalp aches. It helps, but only a little.

The door opens before Zott can dismiss us.

Every muscle in my body locks.

It’s Nathaniel. He is here to punish me.

Dread consumes me in an instant, my mind conjuring the rest before I can stop it: Zott calling me forward. Nathaniel taking a seat. His cool voice ordering me to kneel while the entire class watches.

At the edge of my vision, Victoria’s head snaps up, her attention fixed on the door. Together, we watch a tall figure enter the classroom. But it is not the prince. Only a student returning from the bathroom. He murmurs an apology to Zott and slips back into his seat.

Not Nathaniel.

The relief is so sudden it leaves me nauseous, followed by a sinking sensation I cannot explain.

I realise I’m on my feet, braced as if ready for a fight. He is not here. He was never here.

“Expecting someone?” Victoria asks silkily.

I quickly lower myself onto my cushion, pretending not to hear her. I spend the rest of the lesson doing my best to seem bored. Yet every muscle remains taut, waiting for the door to open again.

At dinner, I eat without tasting a thing, my appetite vanishing as Becky tells us exactly how she earned her extra credit. She recounts the entire thing with flushed pride, including how Zott praised her technique and awarded her enough marks to make up for two missed assessments.

Harvey grins and pats her on the back, apparently back to his usual self.

Susie gives Becky a small nod. “Congratulations.”