The Professor's Dirty Lessons (5)

Chapter Five–

Professor Noah’s POV

It was late but I waited in my office staring at the wall clock waiting for it to strike at 10 PM.

Just like how drawn to her I was from the very moment I noticed her in my class for the first time, I left my office and strode to the library where I knew she was.

Her thesis proposal sat on my desk, marked with my notes, and I'd told her to revise the theoretical framework but I hadn't told her I'd be checking her progress personally.

I found her in the back corner of the second floor, tucked between the stacks of political theory. She didn't see me approach as her head was bent over a textbook, her hair falling forward in a curtain of honey-brown, while a pen sat behind her ear.

She wore a thin cardigan over a white blouse and her legs were crossed beneath the study table, and she was so absorbed she didn't notice me standing over her.

“Working late?”.

She jumped at that, her head snapping up. Her eyes widened when she saw me and a flush spread across her cheeks. It was a reaction I'd memorized and correlated with her.

“Professor”. Her voice came out breathy. “I didn't—what are you doing here?”.

I set my briefcase down on the adjacent table. “I had papers to grade and then I saw the light and came to check”. A lie.

I had been waiting for the building to empty, watching not just the clock but also the parking lot until her car was the only one left.

“Let me see your revisions”.

She fumbled before sliding a notebook toward me. But I didn't look at it, I was watching the way her fingers trembled, and the way her chest rose and fell faster now.

Good

She remembered.

“The methodology section”, I said tapping my index at said section. “Did you incorporate the mixed-methods framework?”.

“Yes. I—”. She swallowed as I rounded the table. “I added surveys and —”.

I didn't hear the rest. I was closer to her now and then I reached down, taking her chin between my thumb and forefinger, turning her face to the side and tilting it up to meet my gaze.

Her lips parted and her breathing stopped .

“You shouldn't be here alone this late, Avena”. My voice was low and deliberate. “Dangerous things happen to pretty girls in empty buildings”.

She didn't look away and I saw that defiance fighting through the submission. “Maybe I like dangerous things”. She whispered.

And that was all the permission I needed.

I instantly pulled her to her feet, spun her around, and pressed her into the shelves behind the chair she was sitting on. The shelves shuddered and a few books rained down, thudding against the carpet.

She gasped as my body pinned hers, my front against her ass, and my chest against her back. I swept her hair aside and buried my mouth against her neck.

“Do you know”, I growled against her skin, “how many night I've thought about finding you here? In the dark. Alone”.

She whimpered, her hands gripping the edge of the shelf. “Noah—”.

Those lips...moaning my name that way...sent a bolt through my cock.

I bit down on the curve of her neck, though not hard enough to break skin, but enough to leave a mark. She arched back into me, her ass grinding against my growing erection.

“Oh, Noah—”.

My hands found her waist, and I slid down her skirt, bunching the fabric in my fists. “I can't take it slow tonight”, I said, pulling her skirt up over her hips. It had been days. “I've been too patient”.

I didn't care if anyone would come in or see us. Maybe I should've but I didn't. I just tore her panties, and the cotton ripped easily, the sound sharp in the silent library. I dragged it down and it fell to her ankles.

Her bare ass pressed against my trousers, and I groaned at the friction.

“Mmm…”. She moaned, still grinding.

I turned her and lifted her onto the study table. My hands gripped her thighs and spread them wide. She lay back on the scattered books and papers, her blouse riding up as her chest kept heaving.

I stood between her legs and looked down at her. Her face was flushed, her lips were parted, and there was a glistening evidence of her arousal.

“I'm going to taste every fantasy you've had about me”.