note: Happy birthday to me specifically! All I wanted was Lorcan smut so here it is
warnings: smut, p in v, dirty talk, pet names, after care
“That’s it, let go baby, you can do it.” Lorcan coos above you. One of his large hands cradles the top of your head as he thrusts into your pussy. His cock hitting all the right spots making you see stars and turning you into a mindless puddle as he fucks you.
Lorcan knew exactly what you needed when he caught you pacing back and forth in your office, wringing your hands in front of you so hard he thought you were going to pull your fingers from their sockets. You needed to not think.
Your mate realized how much he hadn’t been paying attention the last few days thanks to his own work taking up all his time. When Lorcan really looked at you he saw how overwhelmed you were. Leading you to now, with Lorcan on top of you making sure the only thing on your mind is the pleasure he’s giving you.
A knot in your stomach tightens forcing your head to jerk forward, your wide eyes meeting Lorcan’s dark ones, his focus completely on you. His eyes tracking every move you make like the deadly predator he is. Every jerk of your hips, every sharp breath is an indicator to Lorcan that he’s doing his job. He leans further over you, the rough pad of his thumb brushing over your chin to push your head back to keep eye contact with him as he pushes his cock further into you.
“AH–Lor,” you moan. “So big I–I need,” you’re cut off by another deep thrust of Lorcan’s hips. “I know baby, I know. You’re doing so good for me, my good girl.” Lorcan says so low you swear he growls. “I can feel that you’re close, you can let go baby you deserve it. Come all over my cock baby make a fucking mess.”
At Lorcan’s encouragement your fourth orgasm of the night rushes through you, making you tremble and push against Lorcan’s hips. You fall limp against the bed, your limbs feel like they weigh a thousand pounds. Your head is cloudy with real life trying to creep when you want to focus on how Lorcan just pleasured you until you were putty in his hands.
Lorcan slowly pulls out and starts pressing soft kisses across your hip bones and tummy. “Hey, focus on me baby. Eyes on me, there we go.” Lorcan says softly. One of his large hands slides up your side from your thigh to rest at the base of your neck, the heel of his hand at the center of your clavicle. You melt into his touch, feeling your mind refocus on your mate. Your lips pull into a lazy smile as Lorcan slowly crawls up your body. He presses a soft kiss to your lips, smiling at how you are still so responsive to his touch.
His free hand comes to squeeze your hip. “Let’s get you cleaned up,” Lorcan whispers, moving to pick you up bridal style.
After a nice hot bath and Lorcan giving you the best scalp massage you’ve ever had, he carries you back to bed, pulling one of his sleep shirts over your head. As soon as Lorcan is in bed you snuggle into his side, your eyes half closed as you attempt to look at him. Lorcan smiles at you and presses a sweet kiss to your forehead. “How are you feeling, my love?” You let out a hum and press closer to his side.
“Good.” You say, a little hesitation lingering in your voice.
“Tell me what you need, baby.” Lorcan prods gently, cupping the nape of your neck and rubbing his thumb in soothing circles.
“I just want to focus on us, right now. I liked what you did earlier with your hand just laying on my neck. I just really like feeling you.”
Lorcan feels his heart swell with the love you have for him. He never thought he would be able to be this gentle with someone – never mind finding his mate – until you stumbled into his life. The patience you showed him helped Lorcan navigate his feelings at the start of the relationship.
“Anything you want, baby. Here, lay on your back, let's get you comfortable.” Lorcan moves his leg to rest between yours, his torso not fully on you so he wouldn’t crush you with his weight. You fully relax when Lorcan brings his hand to rest on your neck again. Giving in to the heaviness of your eyelids you let them close. The sting from how dry your eyes have been all day is slowly disappearing. A warm surge of love from Lorcan’s end of the bond blooms in your chest completing the feeling of being cared for. You feel stable like this, with his body holding yours together. As you drift off you think about how lucky you are that this male is your mate.
Summary: You're tired of sword-fighting with Lorcan. You want to practice endurance with him instead.
Warnings: Smut, size kink, choking, fingering.
Word Count: 2,452
Notes: Sorry these are taking so long...
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You don’t know if you should be more worried about the sword millimeters away from your neck, or the looming body that pins you to the ground. If he decides to rest his weight down on you, if you even think about trying to squirm away from him, he will fucking crush you.
It shouldn’t make you as hot as it does. Lorcan’s hot breath fanning across your face as he bends over you. Your torso, pinned between the thick of his thighs, large as mountains. Onyx eyes peer down at you, and there’s no distinction between the color and pupil. His equally dark hair is pulled from his face, but there’s a strand fallen free and brushing the skin of your hot cheek, clinging to the dew.
“What are you going to do now?” he asks you, his voice is low and cold, but his breath across your lips is hot. Draws your focus. That’s what he wants.
Your own weapon is just out of reach from where he’d hit it from your hand. You’d tried to defend yourself with your fists, but Lorcan is easily thrice your size and acts like it too. He doesn’t hold back with you, because you’ll never learn how to defend yourself against someone his size, even though you’re not sure there could ever be another person his size, because he’s fucking huge.
You could try to jut up your knee between his legs, but your attempt wouldn’t do much damage because the part you’re aiming for sits thick and heavy on your stomach. Your arms are pinned in one of his large hands with nowhere to go. You’re out of options. Or, almost out of options.
There’s one thing left in your arsenal that you can use. One that will have Lorcan growling at you for not taking any of this training seriously, but only for a moment.
You arch your body under his, pressing your breasts from the ground to rub against his chest. Lorcan blinks, nostrils flaring at the sweet scent that suddenly invades his senses, and he grits his teeth as he catches on immediately to your plans.
“I’m going to let you fuck me, Lorcan.”
“No, little bird, we’re going to train.” He demands it of you, even though you feel his cock twitch in his pants. You squirm and he pulls his blade slightly, not wanting you to accidentally injure yourself, and you swallow back your triumphant grin. The way that he’s keeping you pinned, looking out for your safety, makes you hot.
“Let’s work on endurance, then,” you challenge. “I know you can use come work.”
With that, you know you have him. Lorcan bares his teeth, sharp canines gleaming in the sun’s lowering light. The growl that accompanies it rattles your bones, reverberates deliciously against your clit and your breath hitches harshly.
Lorcan chases the sight, your chest flaring a little at your gasp. The sweat that beads between your breasts. Your lips part with the inhale and he wants to bite, tear the perfect pink skin of your mouth until they’re swollen and panting and in a perfect circle for him to stick his cock into. That would teach you, he’s sure, to taunt him like that, when his cock is shoved so fucking far down your throat that it nearly tears around his girth.
“Little bird,” he says, deathly calm. “You do not want to fuck with me.”
You roll your eyes, “Of course not, Lorcan. I want to you to fuck me.”
You whimper as he tosses his sword away and flattens his body against yours. You loose your breath with his weight, but he’s heavy and hot against you, smothering you with that large frame of his.
“You won’t be able to train for days,” he murmurs against your skin. His teeth scrape your cheek and you shiver. Your arms strain beneath his grip with the intent to cling to him, but he’s too strong, easily keeping them tightly pinned to the ground above your head. You whine a little, and his grip only gets harsher. “Oh no, little bird. If you don’t want to work, you don’t get to touch. I’ll fuck you as long and hard as I please for your insolence.”
His words shouldn’t make you shiver with pleasure but they do. Your nipples tighten with interest and Lorcan’s pupils dilate at the feeling, his chest pressed to yours.
“Hands,” you pant, because he’s rubbing himself tauntingly against you and you no longer know words. He’s thick and full in his pants, hot against your thigh. You think you’re pleasing for him to release your hands, or touch you with his, but you can’t be sure. Either works, though.
Lorcan hums, pulling away from the dark mark he’s sucked into your neck. There are two little indents, not quite his fangs breaking skin, but they look incredible on your flushed skin like this.
“Hands,” he hums thoughtfully, pulling back to meet your gaze. “Want me to let you go, bird? Want my hands all over this tight little body? Or perhaps around your neck? You know how pretty you look with my hand around your throat, don’t you?”
You nod frantically, more than ready for him to force the air from your body while he impales you on his cock. With his hand wrapped around your throat, breathing will be a struggle until the male above you allows it. Just like he’s allowing you to taunt him, to land a swipe at him with your sword. Nothing happens that Lorcan doesn’t want to happen. He is always in charge, leading the bull.
Lorcan’s free hand has released your arms but you keep them high above your head even if the urge to rip out the tie in his hair and bury your fingers into it is so great it makes your arms shake. A grunt of approval leaves his lips and it sends heat right down to your core, pooling between your thighs.
“Open your mouth for me bird,” he commands, brushing his thick fingers across your lips. They part automatically, and your skin is bussing with his touch as he dips two fingers in. “Yes. Good girl, just like that.” Lorcan’s praises, and presses those long fingers of his further down your throat. You choke, a squelching sound coming from your mouth that sets his charcoal eyes alight, his cock twitching between your bodies as he struggles not to grind. “Look at you, taking me so well. Should we find out what else we can fill?”
You moan, sucking them in bliss. You’re harsh with it, just the way that he likes. He likes it so much that Lorcan starts thrusting his fingers even faster, saliva pooling in your mouth as he moves, but he likes it messy, loves the way your lips swell and the way that you drool for him. Maybe he’ll even stick his fat cock down your throat if you’re good.
Your eyes roll into the back of your head. Your throat is tight around his fingers and you’ve forgotten just how big he is all around. Not just his cock that he’s hastily tugging from his trousers and tugging roughly before he’s removing his fingers from your throat.
You whimper at the loss but gasp as he kicks your thighs open, not wasting any time to reach down and tear a hole right through your own fighting leathers. The sound of the fabric ripping echoes through the thicket of trees and you’re thankful he made you hike so far out today, though with the way that his cock is standing straight and leaking at the tip, red and ready for your perfect, tight cunt, you know your cries of pleasure will be heard for miles and miles.
“Please,” you beg, and you relent. You don’t care how he’ll punish you, you need to feel his flesh embedded beneath your nails, need to feel the dips and valleys of the muscle stacking his body. You need to see the way that his hands smother yours, how he doesn’t even have to strain a muscle folding you into the positions he likes. “Please, Lorcan. I need your cock.”
He grunts in response, a disapproving sound as he stares at your tiny cunt, shining and wet for him. As much as he’d love to lean over and fuck right down to the hilt, you’ll only break. So, he needs to take this slow.
“Fingers first, little bird.”
The moan you release as his first finger dips into your wetness turns pinched when Lorcan adds a second, then third on the next plunge in. You scream around his fingers, at the feeling of him stretching you. Loran hushes you softly but keeps moving, his other hand coming to caress your face, trailing down your neck to grab a fistfull of your breast through your shirt. Your fingers scratch at his skin, begging him not to stop, working your cunt ready for his cock.
He towers over you, covering every inch of your body with his. The ground is hard beneath your back but he’s even harder above you. His onyx eyes are all you can focus on as the fire builds in your gut and then it’s only darkness and sparks of light that surround you when your eyes roll into the back of your head while you orgasm.
Before you can even catch your breath, before you can even force your eyes open again, Lorcan is nudging the head of his cock into your entrance. It stings, because no amount of prep from him can compare to the girth of his cock as it stretches your channel wider and wider.
Your soft fingers turn to snake bites against his shoulders as he wedges himself inward. Your body is coiled with tension, with the intrusion of his large cock, and he leans down to take your mouth against his as he works to distract you.
You whimper painfully against his mouth, and Lorcan growls. “Take it bird. Take all of me.”
And you have no choice but to. Your body is made for him, slick and hot and greedily accepting every inch that he’s giving you. He groans like a pained man when you constrict around his cock, not following his direction. Slipping a finger between your bodies, he rolls your clit between his rough fingers and slowly you begin to relax.
Your pained sounds turn to pleasured moans, your back arching with need and your stomach bulging with the tip of his cock. His hips meet yours and it’s always a surprising feat that he can fit that far inside of you, pressing into your organs with his head.
“Too deep,” you gasp when he pulls his hips out and thrusts them back in. Lorcan doesn’t falter in his movements, only hooks his hands under your knees and presses them to your chest, forcing himself further. “You’re too deep, Lorcan.”
“You’re okay, bird,” he grunts low. He bends over and licks a tear that’s escaped the corner of your eye, pressing a gentle kiss to the skin afterward. “You can take it. Arch your back for me. Gods,” he pants when you follow his command. “Just like that.”
Lorcan adjusts his hips and slides into you at an angle that makes every pinch and twist of pain worth it. The head of his cock brushes up against your walls, hot and leaking, and it feels so good.
“Please, kiss me,” you beg and Lorcan doesn’t hesitate. He lets you lead the kiss, taking everything that you need from him and giving you even more. His tongue brushes across yours at the same time he hits that bundle of nerves inside of you again and you moan deeply into his mouth. He swallows it like the greedy fucking male he is, smothering you, taking you, because you are his and for no one else.
Lorcan thrusts harder and you tighten your legs around his waist, your arms around his neck as your body vibrates with pleasure. You know that he’s close, and you can feel the building of your own orgasm threatening to crash over you as well. But you want to wait, you want to cum with him, feel your juices mix together as he fucks them deep into your womb.
“Don’t close your eyes, little bird. Look at me when you cum,” Lorcan says, and it almost feels wrong, the way he’s so gently smoothing back the hair clinging to your damp cheeks. You cum with the feeling of his calloused fingers so tender on your skin. He may not let anyone else see this side of him, showing you how much you mean to him, but here and now, even after you’ve all but taunted his skills, he continues this kindness, and it makes your heart swell with joy.
Lorcan’s name is a desperate cry on your lips as you cum for the second time. His chest vibrates with a growl that only has your cunt constricting tighter around him, so tightly that he has to put more effort into jerking in and out of you. The feeling of your warmth choking his cock is more than enough to shove him over the edge as well, spurting rivulets of cum into your cunt with a growl that shakes your core.
“Such a good little bird, aren’t you?” he asks when he comes down from his own high, enjoying the feeling of himself dripping out of your cunt around his cock that’s still shoved deeply into you. If you weren’t on the tonic you’d be worried about how easily Lorcan would be able to impregnate you, but as you lie beneath him in bliss, the both of your chests sticking together with sweat, you might not mind baring his children someday.
“So good,” you swallow roughly, caressing his sides. You squeal when Lorcan grabs your hips and rolls you so that you’re lying across his chest, and your cunt pulses at the feeling of his cock grinding with the mauver. Lorcan groans softly, his large hands pinning your hips in place so that you don’t get any ideas about rolling your hips while he’s still coming down from his previous orgasm.
“Give me a few minutes, bird,” he huffs, closing his eyes. His eyebrows are strained but you can feel his cock twitch in your cunt.
You hum, clenching around him on purpose. Lorcan growls and bares his teeth again, but you only stroke the pad of your finger down the length of his sharp tooth. “But Lorcan, I thought we were working on your endurance.”
fr just thinking about why no one has written poly! lorcan x elide x reader…. we need it in our lives
No cause imagine you and elide worshipping lorcan’s cock together…
Tongue’s overlapping and brushing against one another’s. Licking, sucking, kissing along lorcan’s impressive shaft. Lorcan’s in heaven, pupils blown and mouth hung open as he watches his girl’s work wonders on his cock. You switch back and forth, between suckling the tip of his cock or tracing the throbbing veins that decorate the length of him.
Now Elide doesn’t have the same experience as you. So when she wants a shot at taking Lorcan’s cock down her throat, you do your best to help her. You gently brush the hair from her face as she takes him into her mouth, whispering, “Just keep breathing. Wanna hollow those cheeks for me? Atta girl.” Using the soft grip in her hair, you guide her head up and down, easing her into it. Your free hand pumping what she can’t fit in her mouth, the spit dripping past her lips acting as a lubricant.
Lorcan’s hand find your cheek, turning your attention to him, he’s smirking, “Such a good girl, helping her suck my cock like a champ.” He praises between groans of pleasure. His thumb flicks over your lips and you hum, nipping at him before looking back to Elide. She’s staring at you, need for reassurance in her eyes. She’s sputtering and gagging slightly. Aroused and overthinking.
“Easy, baby, just breathe. You’re doing so well,” you tell her, watching the tears line her eyes as Lorcan’s cock bumps the back of her throat. “Don’t think, just feel, okay? Gonna help you do just that.” Releasing your hold on Lorcan’s length, you hand dips down between her legs. She practically drips onto your fingers with how turned on she is. It’s one of the things you love about Elide…she always gets so wet. Two of your fingers slip between her fold, collecting her slick before burying inside of her. Elide moans loudly around Lorcan’s cock, the vibrations dragging a similar noise from him.
Steadily moving your fingers within her, you lean closer, “Look at Lorcan, baby. Let him see how pretty you look like this.” She does as you say, lust filled eyes blinking up at the male. You place your mouth back on Lorcan, sucking on the heavy sack at the base of his cock while Elide takes control of his length. You’re watching her, seeing that as she gets lost in the pleasure your fingers are giving her, she becomes more confident. Barely needing your guidance. You pause every so often to praise Elide as she whimpers and whines on Lorcan’s cock, letting her know she’s doing great, calling her a good girl, telling her she can cum when she needs to.
All while Lorcan is a moaning, groaning, growling mess above you both. Drawing closer to the impending high you and Elide are building. His abdomen flexes and ripples, you can almost see the coil winding tighter and tighter beneath his skin. He sobs out a groan, “M’not gonna last much long if you two keep that up. Feels too fucking good, shit.” Yet that’s exactly what you and Elide want.
Phew…well i’m horny now
All while Lorcan is a moaning, groaning, growling mess above you both. Drawing closer to the impending climax you and Elide are building. His stomach flexes and ripples, you can almost see the coil winding tighter and tighter inside him. He sobs out a groan, “M’not gonna last much longer if you two keep that up.” But that’s exactly what you both want.
I'm almost done with a Lorcan smut/aftercare fic that I feel like is the best one I've written and I will be posting it this weekend to celebrate my birthday 🙂↔️
A/n: here’s that Lorcan smut I was talkin about, enjoy! Also my requests are still open
Warnings: smut and biting
You cling to Lorcan as he pounds into your cunt. You absolutely loved being under him like this. Completely at the mercy of his strong, large figure.
“Gods Lorcan,” you moan, throwing your head back, arching your back, “you feel so good, so so fucking good!” Lorcan growls, picking up the speed of his pace. You grip at his biceps digging your nails into his tan skin. Your favorite thing to do during sex is leave your mark on him.
Knowing that you left him with bright red scratches down his back and arms under his shirt made you even more feral for him the day after. But this tonight leaving your claw marks isn’t enough for you. No, you want to sink your teeth into him. Leave hickeys along his neck while he’s still above you and his strong thighs while you’re on your knees for him.
Lorcan can sense your mind has wandered elsewhere. His length stretches you painfully as he slows down. He leans his forehead down to yours, caging your head with his forearms. “What is it baby? Tell me what you need.”
You whimper at the softness in his voice. “I want to try something new.” He nods encouraging you to continue. “Do you trust me baby?” “Of course, doll. Take what you need, you know I’ll always give it to you.” You nod and he goes back to thrusting into you like a mad man.
You move your head down to his neck kissing and licking down to his collarbones. Lorcan lets out a strained moan and you can feel yourself getting wetter. You want to hear him moan again but louder and unrestrained. As you move back up the column of his throat your arms snake around his shoulders and down his back.
Reaching down his long torso as far as you can, you sink your nails into his skin and drag them upwards at a sensual pace. Pulling him closer to you as your hands move higher.
“Fuck, y/n,” He moans louder this time. He starts thrusting into you deeper as you move your mouth down to the spot between his shoulder and neck. You suck harshly at the spot and Lorcans breathing becomes labored.
Finally, you open your mouth and bite down roughly on his soft skin. The moan Lorcan lets out is animalistic and it spurs you on. You bite him again hard enough to leave teeth marks, licking over the marks to soothe them.
“Fuck doll, that felt good. Your mouth is so perfect.” You smirk against his skin. He seats himself fully inside you, you moan as you bite down on him again. As that coil winds in your stomach you break his skin and he groans, “Fuck!”
You let go of Lorcan throwing your head back, “Lorcan,” you whine out, “I’m gonna cum!” He growls again and slips his large hand under your head lifting you back to his neck. “I’m close too doll. Come on, baby bite me again.”
You kiss his neck before biting down again. As your teeth sink into Lorcan he pushes you over the edge of release. As Lorcan fucks you through your high he lets out a moan that you’ve never heard from him before. It’s exactly what you wanted from him. Still holding him between your teeth you smile against his neck. You feel his hot seed fill you up and let go of Lorcan, going limp in his arms.
He pulls out of you and sets you back down on the bed gently, so contrasting to how he was just handling you. He rests his head on your chest to catch his breath. Bringing your hand up, you run your fingers through his long, dark hair.
After a few minutes Lorcan picks his head up, staring at your happy, fucked out expression. He brushes away some stray hair sticking to your face, caressing your cheek and neck.
“So,” he drawls, “biting, huh?” A harsh blush appears on your cheeks as you try to look away from him. “Hey,” he grasps your chin between his thumb and forefinger. “I liked it to doll.” You chuckle, “Yeah I picked up on that.”He laughs, pulling you into him and rolling onto his back. “I love you doll.”
PROFESSOR LORCAN PLS PLS PLSPSLPSLSPSLSPOSPSLSPSJSODNCB
Mr Salvaterre had a little lamb
~~~
Pairings: Professor!Lorcan x f!student!reader
Warnings: smut, kinda dark?, age gap (reader is over 18), innocence kink, praise kink, spanking, clit play, crying, dacryphilia, corruption, pet names (sweetheart, little girl, little lamb)
Summary: Your college professor isn’t pleased that you’re distracted in his class, ruining his plans to finally act on his need for you. Lorcan supposes he’ll just have to punish you instead.
Word count: around 3.7k
a/n: don’t worry, you’ll get that reward in pt 2. thanks for helping with titles, sweetie!! @ofelia-writesxox
~~~
You haven’t been paying attention. The discussion surrounding the class’s latest assignment going through one ear and out the other. Ever since you stepped into the classroom 2 hour prior, you couldn’t find it in you to focus. You’re supposed to be taking notes to help you study tonight. But your hand hasn’t moved in a long while. You can’t even remember what exactly you were to be taking notes on. You don’t know what’s wrong with you. You’re a straight A student for gods sake. College is your top priority. You don’t dabble in usual college life activities, late night parties or drunken hookups. You’ve never been distracted. Until, of course, you started taking this class. And the reason for such distraction?
Well, he’s standing in front of the entire class, leaning back casually against his desk. Professor Salvaterre.
He’s a good teacher- a great one actually. It’s one of the reasons why you’re so enamoured by him. That, and his looks, his voice, the way he carries himself. He makes you feel excited, a tingling excitement that seems to stem from deep in your tummy. You get hot all over whenever he praises you for getting an answer right, and when he hands you back little encouraging notes along with your marked papers. You try and remind yourself that he probably does that for everyone he teaches. Yet you can’t stifle your own mind, your thoughts about your professor becoming more and more salacious as the nights go on. You imagine him praising you…for pleasing him in more ways than simply showing how smart you are. You remind yourself to wash your pillow before you sleep tonight. After sending in your near-perfect assignment essay last night, you had gotten so riled up to thought of Professor Salvaterre marking your work on the other side of your computer screen. You could practically see his faint smile and hear his deep voice as he pointed out which parts he thought were excellent. So, you’d taken your pillow and rubbed your bare self against it, a hand slapped over your mouth so that your roommates, Aedion and Lysandra wouldn’t hear your little moans.
Every fantasy you have is causing each class harder to sit through without your mind running wild. Which is why you’ve done nothing but stare at your professor all morning. He’s so handsome, you can’t tear your eyes away. His height is ridiculous, even from where you sit, you feel as though he’s still towering over you. You’d have to strain your neck to look into his eyes if you were standing directly in front of him. He’s dressed in his usual attire. Black slacks, tight around his large thighs, thick with muscle you believe. They bulge each time he takes a seat. A worn-out belt holds them up, he occasionally hooks his thumbs through the loops; the action makes you smile to yourself. Professor Salvaterre always shirts that are a little too small for him, sitting snug around his chest and shoulders. It’s white today. Top button undone and sleeves rolled up to his elbows, exposing his tanned skin littered with dark hairs. Prominent veins run down his forearms to his hands. Those huge hands, capable of smothering your own. You remember the time he read aloud to the class, making the rather large book appear tiny in his hold. You had to hold your breath each time he licked the pad of his thumb to turn a page.
As your gaze travels up from his hands, you finally notice your professor’s dark, piercing gaze, locked directly on you. That’s when you hear him calling your name. You sit up to attention, blinking out of whatever trance you were in. Hearing someone snigger, you burn with embarrassment and fight back the urge to hide. Your professor cocks his head sympathetically, “I asked if you had the answer?” he repeats softly. The answer? What’s the answer to the question you didn’t even hear him ask? You shake your head, defeated. “I don’t know, sir. I’m sorry.” Professor Salvaterre sighs deeply, a look of disappointment washing over his features. That look alone hurts more than the embarrassment you feel. “That’s a shame,” he takes a step forward, eyes still on you, “Focus, y/n. How you participate in my class will impact your final grade.” You nod and find the ability to breathe once he tears his gaze away from you to scan the class. “That goes for all of you. Keep that in mind for next week because time is up.” Clapping his hands together, the class begins to pack up.
You curse under your breath when you finally look down. A large splotch of ink has ruined whatever notes you had managed to take at the start of the lesson. You’ll have to ask Aedion for his, as he took this class last year. Not that you have much hope for his notes, all he ever did was complain about the subject. Sighing, you shut your notebook and shove it into your back as you prepare to leave, ready to go stow away in your bedroom for the rest of the day. At least until Lysandra and Aedion show up with takeout to make you feel better.
As you’re making your way out, professor Salveterre calling your name yet again causes you to pause in your tracks. You turn to him, “Yes, sir?” He’s still standing by his desk, arms folded across his chest with his head tilted to look at you. “Can you stay behind a minute? I would like a word regarding your involvement in class today.” He explains, making your stomach flip as though you’re a child in trouble for getting caught lying. Nodding, you slowly make your way towards him as the last of your classmates leave. You flinch when the door clicks shut, trapping you alone with your professor. “I’m really sorry, professor. I know I should’ve been paying attention, I just- “
“You’re a smart girl,” He silences your rambling, “Very smart.” You’re left confused as ever when he walks around his desk, tugging open his top drawer to pull out a collection of papers. Unsure of what to say, you simply watch your professor as he returns to you. “As expected, top marks. Good job, sweetheart.” You thought he was going to lecture you for being unfocused, but instead he hands you a printed copy of the essay you submitted the night before. You try to conceal how the name he used is affecting you by staring down at the paper in your hand and asking, “You’ve already marked them all?” You flick through the pages, examining his highlights, pointing out good work and a few suggestions for improvement. “Just yours. Last night.” You freeze. Skin heating, reminded of your activities as you fantasized about him marking this very essay. He was doing exactly as you’d imagined. All while you relieved yourself at the thought. You force yourself to keep turning the pages and your gaze catches at the sticky note attached with his little message for you. Letting you know how proud he is. “Thank you, sir.” You smile to yourself. “Ah,” He catches onto what you’re smiling about, “I quite enjoy writing those for you.” Brows furrowing, you look up at your professor with a little shake of your head, “You write those for everybody.” That’s what you’ve been telling yourself anyway. But professor Salvaterre chuckles, his smirk intoxicating, “They’re reserved only for my favourite student.” Your tummy flutters wildly in response.
He takes your stunned silence as an opportunity to take the essay from your hands and toss it onto his desk behind him. “As I said, sweetheart,” Your professor takes a step towards you, he’s so close you’re left staring at his chest, you can smell his cologne. And god, if he doesn’t stop calling you ‘sweetheart’, you’re going to melt into a puddle at his feet. “You’re a smart girl. A good girl.” Your lips part in a silent gasp, a blush tinting your cheeks. You feel his eyes on you, yet you can’t raise your chin and let him see what his words do to you. He’s your professor. That’s all. This is just your mind acting crude. “But you were distracted today, that’s what you were going to say, right? What I want to know, is why.” And finally, here it is. The lecture you’ve been expecting. But before you can start apologizing, come up with a silly excuse and promise to never do it again…he continues. “Does it have anything to do with the way you’ve been staring at me all morning?”
Guilt eats you from the inside out. You’ve been caught for something highly inappropriate. You chew on your bottom lip as your mind races with the possible outcomes of this. “I’ve noticed your eyes on me for a while now,” He adds. You have to turn your head to the side as tears bite at your eyes, threatening to spill. Distractions get you in trouble. You’ve managed to avoid them for so long, you should’ve known this would happen. “I’m sorry,” You whisper, attempting to keep your voice from wavering. You hear him sigh and you jump, startled when you feel warm fingers grasping your chin. “Oh, sweetheart,” he moves your head, tilting your chin up until he can see your face. When you finally look at him, you find your professor smirking down at you, “Why do you think I leave those notes for you if I don’t enjoy seeing you get all flustered?”
A stray tear falls when you blink at him in surprise, trying to work out whether this is really happening or if it’s another erotic dream. His thumb catches the tear, wiping it into your skin when he strokes your cheek. This can’t be real, he’s your- he’s your teacher. But he’s been doing everything possible to obtain a reaction from you, he wanted this to happen. As if sensing your thoughts, “That’s right, sweetheart. I’ve been watching you too. How could I not? You’ve always been my good girl, my perfect student.” Your heart is pounding so hard, you’re almost sure he can hear it. He looks amused, watching you realize that he’s just as consumed with desire for you as you are with him. His hand slips to the back of your neck, using his gentle grip to tug you closer. You gasp, hands landing on his chest to steady yourself. “You’ve been so good for so long. And I had a special reward in mind for you today, sweetheart.” How is this happening? How have you let yourself be lured in like prey? You’re a lamb, chasing happily after the butterfly of reward and praise, unaware of the wolf waiting ever so patiently to pounce when you stumble. And once his teeth have sunk, there’s no escaping. “But you just had to misbehave this morning, didn’t you?”
The wolf’s teeth have found their mark. His grip on the back of your neck tightens, causing a whimper to escape. You didn’t expect to feel to wounded knowing your professor is disappointed in you. Fresh tears line your eyes, it’s taking all your strength to hold them at bay. You can’t deny you haven’t secretly dreamt of this moment for months, dreamt of that special reward. And now to hear that he’s changed his mind due to your misconduct? The humiliation is unbearable. Here you stand, pressing close to your college professor, tiptoeing on a line that will be impossible to come back from if you were to cross over. But you’re willing to do anything if it means he’ll forgive you. “Please, Sir. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!” Your voice wobbles, a sob threatening to break free.
“I know, sweetheart,” He sighs, stepping out of the way so he can use his hold to move you as he wishes, “I know it was a mistake, you didn’t mean it.” Your professor walks you forward, until your hips are pressing against the edge of his desk. Then you feel the heat of him behind you, leaning down so his lips hover right by your ear. “But I need you to understand that bad girls don’t get rewards. Bad girls, get punished. Is that what you need?” His breath against your skin makes you shiver, and you nod with a pout on your lips. “Say it.”
“Yes, sir. I deserve to be punished,” You can’t fight the anticipation crawling down your spine. Who knew the thought of him punishing you would get you just as excited? Maybe even a little more. It’s exhilarating. “That’s right,” You can hear the smirk in his voice, “Now, if you can take your punishment like a good girl…then you might find yourself with a little reward after all.” Your professor’s hand is hot against your back as he pushes you down over his desk, your upper body sprawled across his paperwork. Your heart has never beat so fast, you have no idea what he’s going to do to you. Yet you’re nodding, almost babbling, “I can, sir, I will. I’ll be good, I promise.” His praise his too good to lose, you’ll do anything for him.
He only laughs at your eagerness to please him. You jump, feeling warm fingertips brushing the back of your bare thighs. Being bent over your professor’s desk has caused your skirt to ride up, the curve of your behind just visible below the hem. His fingers reach the fabric, and you forget how to breathe, yet lust overtakes any doubts in your mind. Professor Salvaterre curses when he flips your skirt up, exposing the cute, cotton panties hugging your ass so perfectly. “Fucking hell, sweetheart,” he groans, taking handfuls of your plump flesh in his grip. You whine in response, body subconsciously pushing back against him. Your professor sighs, fondling your ass softly in his palms. “Remember, sweetheart. I’m doing this for your benefit,” He warns before his touch leaves you, you’re about to turn your head to look at him before you’re taken by surprise. Pain blossoming across your backside.
The harsh, sudden spank causes your whole body to tense up, a loud yelp caught in your throat. Eyes watering, you press your forehead to his desk. He soothes the sting by rubbing circles over your skin, “I know it hurts, but you need to learn. How are you going to remain my perfect little student if I let you get away with being distracted in class? So, as much as I want to worship your pretty little body, I’m still your teacher and I want you to do well.” He’s right. He’s always right. With a nod, you widen the stance of your legs, prepared to endure your punishment. “Good girl.” The praise shoots between your legs, allowing you to feel a moment of pleasure before he lands the next spank. Right over the previous one. You hiccup, tears slipping down your cheeks.
He doesn’t give you a moments break before he spanks you for a third time, harder than before. You squirm, hips digging painfully into the edge of the desk as you try to escape the stinging. “Shh, sweetheart, I know. Just two more and you’re all done,” He coos, rubbing your poor, tender ass, “You’re doing so well.” As much as your punishment hurts, there’s a pulsing between your legs that’s only becoming stronger, begging to be relieved. Two more. That’s all. And then maybe your professor will give you the reward you so desperately want.
The final two spanks have your silent tears dripping onto the essay paper on the desk. It’s yours. You watch the bright red A blurs on the page as you attempt to calm your breathing. The stringing numbing down to a dull throb. Professor Salvaterre runs his fingers over your skin, admiring the handprints bruising your backside. “I’m almost sad we don’t have class tomorrow, sweetheart. It would be so amusing to watch you squirm knowing I’m the reason it hurts to sit this pretty little ass in your seat,” he hums as he thinks about it. And you whine quietly, you’re going to have to use a pillow to sit down for the next couple days. He hears the sound and pulls you up from his desk, “C’mere, little girl. You’re all done.” He turns you to face him, hand rising to your cheek, like he’s going to wipe away your tears. But he pauses before his skin can meet yours, his eyes roaming your face, as if he enjoys the sight of you crying. His palm cups the side of your neck instead. “Learnt anything from today?”
You nod, letting your arms wrap around his waist, “When I’m a good girl, you reward me,” you sniffle, pouting, “And when I’m a bad girl, you punish me.” Your professor chuckles, free hand playing with the hem of your skirt. “That’s right. And you’re going to be good from now on, hm? And give me an excuse to do everything I want to your pretty little body?” He asks, fingers slipping beneath your skirt, sliding slowly up. You gasp when he makes contact with your damp, panties. “Yes!” You almost cry out, “Yes, sir.” His smirk is deadly, “You took your punishment well, sweetheart. What do you want as your reward?” he your clothed heat, feeling your wetness seep through the cotton.
“I want-“ You swallow, finding yourself breathless from the way your professor is touching your most intimate places, “I want to kiss you…please?” His expression softens as your innocence shines through, he wasn’t expecting such a small and simple request. He leans down, granting your request, his eyes search yours before he presses his lips to yours. Not having much experience, you’re aware you’re not a very good kisser. Yet he doesn’t seem to mind, guiding your lips with his in slow, gentle movements. Your grip on his waist tightens, your mind still unable to process that this is really happening.
Your lips part in a moan as his fingers press against your clit, and your professor takes that as an opportunity to sweep his tongue into your mouth. His thumb pushes your chin up, tilting your head back to allow him to deepen the kiss. His tongue is warm and wet, gliding over yours. He’s confident whereas you’re shy, your tongue tentatively brushing his, stuttering with each circle of his fingers over your sensitive clit. You’re gasping and whining into his mouth, trying your hardest to keep up with his kisses. But his fingers feel so good, never slowing as he plays with your pulsing nub, sending pleasure spiraling through your veins. It tightens over and over in the pit of your tummy, making your muscles begin to tense up. You let yourself get lost in him, focusing on the pleasure his mouth and fingers are giving you. Your professor kisses you passionately while he winds your body up like a clock. You’re whimpers pass into his mouth, he’s hungrily swallowing each one down, tongue always coming back for more.
Your thighs quiver. You feel his hand leaving your neck to wrap his arm around your waist, keeping you steady. You can feel your peak swiftly approaching, keeping up with his tongue becoming more and more difficult. He can feel you struggling and smirks, “There it is, sweetheart,” he mumbles against your lips, “You’re almost there.” Your hands move to grip his arms, nails digging into him as he takes you higher. You feel his muscles moving from the hand buried beneath your skirt. He lays his forehead against your temple to watch every reaction on your face, his nose presses against your cheek, his hot breaths heating your skin.
Your eyes squeeze shut when your climax begins to wash over your body. It hits you in waves, each one sending a small jolt through you. You’re glad he’s there to hold you upright, otherwise your knees would’ve buckled and sent you falling to the floor. Your breaths are labored, coming out in short gasps for air. In and out. You remind yourself when you feel as though you’re going to stop breathing altogether. “Good girl,” your professor praises, helping you through it all.
He removes his hand from between your legs when your body relaxes, having ridden out the very last aftershocks. Professor Salvaterre straightens, towering over you once again. Your face heats as you think about all that has just occurred. From your college professor spanking you to making cum in your panties. You don’t know whether to be happy or ashamed. “You feel okay, little lamb?” he asks, taking a step back to really get a look at you. You can’t help the grin when you nod, lost for words. He laughs, brushing a stray strand of your hair out of your face, “Sweetheart. That was only a taster of what I’m going to do to you.”
You smile drops, as does your tummy. He makes you feel so aroused with just a few simple words. Yet, you’re relieved to know that this isn’t just a one time thing. And it makes you excited for the next time you see him, you’ll be on your bestest behaviour if it means he’ll make you feel like this again. “You’ll have to run along now. I’ve got another class to teach soon,” he sighs, both of you clearly disappointed with having to leave each other. Your chin bobs, “Yes, professor,” you try a step, doing your best not to squirm due to the dampness between your legs. “I think you’re allowed to call me Lorcan now,” he- Lorcan tells you.
That brings back your smile, “I’ll see you next week…Lorcan.” His name rolls off your tongue so easily, so perfectly. Lorcan smirks once again, “I like hearing you say that,” he chuckles before sighing, “I’ll see you next lesson, little lamb. Behave.” He adds, patting your ass to hear you hiss. To make you remember exactly what will happen if you don’t…
stop.,,, rowan and lorcan tag teaming gavriel’s daughter.,,,
You don’t know who to pay attention to more, Lorcan gripping your throat in one hand while thrusting in and out of your mouth, or Rowan pounding into you from behind while his hands leave bruises on your hips. You whimper as they manhandle you between them, marking every inch of your flesh.
“Look at our little slut,” Lorcan snarls. “She’s crying, Rowan.”
Indeed you are, tears streaming down your face from pleasure, having already been overstimulated with 3 orgasms and a 4th one rapidly approaching.
“Poor baby,” Rowan simpers mockingly, his rough pace not faltering. “Maybe we should stop.”
“She pretends she wants us to stop,” Lorcan gripped your throat harder. “But she’s filthy whore who just wants our attention. Isn’t that right?”
You nod as best you can, praying they don’t stop and leave you wanting. You wouldn’t put it last them.
“As if she’s good for anything else other than being our perfect slut,” Rowan growls biting your shoulder. “If only her daddy knew what we were doing to his precious little girl.”
