"(Y/N), I've noticed that you've been wearing more provocative clothes every time you come to my office. This is highly inappropriate and if it continues, I'll have to notify the board and you'll be expelled or transferred immediately."
You pout.
"I'm so sorry. I never meant to make you uncomfortable."
You get up to leave, but bend over the back of the chair that sits before his desk to grab your backpack. Your short mini skirt lifts to reveal your ass cheeks and your skimpy, black lace thong barely covering your sopping entrance.
"I'm sorry again, Professor King. I promise I'll be good."
In a second, he comes up behind you and sinks his fingers into the flesh of your ass cheeks. You jump slightly. His sudden proximity surprises you. He'd seemed so reluctant and official across his desk.
"Fuck," he groans. "You've been showing up for weeks wearing more and more revealing outfits."
You turn your head toward his voice, but don't dare to meet his eyes just yet. He's making a decision.
"You swear you'll be a good girl, yeah? Because you can't tell a single fucking soul about this."
You nod frantically.
"I promise I'll be good. I swear it."
You hear a hmph noise of satisfaction leave your professor. He leans down to whisper in your ear.
"All this because you couldn't live without this cock in your life, huh?"
You shiver at his warm breath on the shell of your ear. He angles his hips up into your ass then and you feel him. His hardening length makes your mouth fall open and your vision cloud.
"Look at you now. Practically soaking through my pants already."
He withdraws from you then. You whimper.
"Get under my desk on your knees."
You gulp in a breath as your brain processes his instructions, and then you move to comply.
Your professor watches you with a heated gaze. He strides to the door of his office. He only has to lock it since the blinds are already closed. When he turns back, he can't see you. He smiles and approaches his desk. He casually sits in his office chair. He unbuckles his belt and opens his zipper. Your eyes bulge at the sheer size of him once he fully pulls himself out. You lick your lips.
"Think you can handle it? I won't be gentle."
You nod and prepare yourself.
"I can handle it," you tell him.
His eyes on you soften for half a beat, and then he's fisting your hair. You relax your throat as you feel the muscles stretch around him. His dick is throbbing inside your mouth and the taste of pre-cum instantly hits your tongue. He's fucking your face, not easing you into it. But you can do this. You want this. You want him.
You begin to suck and lick in time with his thrusts. Your professor crumbles before you, opening his mouth to pant softly. His face is twisted in pleasure, and his cheeks are flushed pink. You softly moan around him. You settle into a rhythm that you think may be working him to his peak judging by the way he tilts his head back and licks his lips.
Just then, a sudden knock on his office door makes your eyes blow wide. Your gaze cuts to his in a panic. You begin to pull away to remove him from your mouth. Mr. King holds the back of your head so that you can't release him. When you look up to him in question, he shakes his head and puts a finger to his lips to tell you to be quiet. You still completely and listen with your heart racing in your chest.
Another knock, followed by a female's voice calling, "Professor King?" has you squeezing your eyes shut.
You know this is dangerous, but that's exactly why you want it so badly. If this woman doesn't realize anything is going on inside the office, she might just leave. The only sound you hear now is your heartbeat thrumming in your ears. You wait in silence until you feel fingers grip your chin to force your eyes open. Professor King crowds your view, staring down at you with affection in his eyes. He leans closer to whisper to you.
"I believe the coast is clear. You were right. You are a good girl. Now finish what you started."
You try to nod, but quickly remember that your mouth is occupied. You take the chance to flatten your tongue and lick the under side of his shaft. The sensation has your teacher shuddering.
"Shit," he spits. "You're going to let me come inside that pretty mouth, yeah?"
You nod as best you can without pausing your tongue's movements. Your professor smirks.
"And you're going to swallow it, aren't you?"
Instead of attempting another nod, you wrap your hand around the rest of his shaft that you can't fit in your mouth. You work your hand in a circular motion and help coat it evenly with your saliva. This sensation and your tongue laving at his tip sends Mr. King into a spiral. He grips your hair with both hands now as he bucks his hips and whispers praises about you being "so fucking good," and "too good to be true."
It doesn't take long before his grip tightens and he murmurs, "I'm about to come."
You brace yourself for his release. You gulp it down greedily, swallowing every last drop. You lick his shaft and kiss the tip when you're done. You glance up to find your professor's hazy eyes already on you. Aside from his pink cheeks and shortness of breath, he looks just as perfect as he did when you walked in here. You put your hands on his knees and brace yourself to get up.
You stand as gracefully as you can and pull your skirt back down to an appropriate length. You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand. You gather yourself before you meet his eyes again. When you do, it appears that your teacher's eyes never left you. You clear your throat awkwardly.
"Thanks for your help today, Professor King. Believe me, it's greatly appreciated."
You flash a shy smile. You turn to grab your backpack, but you feel Mr. King's gaze dance up and down your form. Before you move to walk to the door, he leans forward in his chair and catches your wrist. Your gaze shoots back to his as he presses a small kiss there. You instantly get goosebumps from the feel of his lips on your skin.
"I give as much as I take," he promises.
He presses another kiss to your palm.
"Come see me next Tuesday for another session."
His eyes shine with promise. You nod as your feel your face flush. He graces you with a small smile, and butterflies erupt in your stomach. Extra credit be damned. You've wanted him all along.
Jonah had always been around. He was your brother's best friend. You'd seen him in settings ranging from family events to nights out at the bar. In every situation though, he'd always just been Jonah. You weren't nervous around Jonah; he was familiar. He'd been friends with your brother for half your life.
Sure, your friends would always gossip to you about how hot he was. You never had much input. You simply didn't see him that way. All of your friends had casually asked you to give Jonah their numbers at least once. You explained to them, over and over, that your relationship with Jonah wasn't like that. He was Sebastian's friend, not yours. You couldn't just walk up to him and start a normal conversation.
Jonah never made you uncomfortable; no, that wasn't it. It was the fact that he almost completely ignored your existence. Aside from passing each other in your house when you lived with your brother and parents, Jonah had literally never paid attention to you. You thought maybe he'd been around you so long that you'd become invisible to him. Or worse, that he thought of you as a little sister. An annoying little sister, perhaps.
So, you never bothered him. You never talked to him. You rarely even looked his direction or smiled at him. You just went about your daily life, knowing that nine times out of ten, Jonah would be there.
One Saturday night, you planned a night out at the bar with your friends. Not surprisingly, Sebastian, Jonah, and their mates arrived at the same bar shortly after you. Your groups stayed on opposite sides of the bar, per usual when you ran into each other. It had happened several times before.
"O.m.g. How does Jonah get hotter every time I see him?"
Your friend Veronica pretended to swoon.
You rolled your eyes. While all your friends were huddled in the corner, giggling and stealing glances at the guys across the room, you were taking shots. You were so bored of this topic. You just wanted to get drunk and dance. After throwing three shots back, you dramatically stood from your chair.
"I'm going to fucking dance," you mumbled.
The DJ at the bar was just starting to play your favorite dance music. Walking out onto the small dance floor by yourself, you began shaking your hips and moving to the beat, and others soon followed. Before you knew it, the small dance floor was packed. It was getting warm. It could be from all the bodies, or from those shots. Either way, you were finally starting to enjoy your night.
After about six songs, you felt a body come up behind you. The person tenderly grabbed your hips, bringing them back to theirs. Normally, you would turn and scold whoever dared touch you without your consent. But at the present moment, with the alcohol flowing through your system, you found that you didn't mind it. Their hips moved in time with yours, and it was nice to have someone to dance with. Feeling all your inhibition fly out the window, it wasn't long before you were grinding your hips into theirs. What did it matter anyway? You were just dancing.
You and your dance partner went through three or four songs this way, and you had even leaned your back to their chest, letting your fingers reach up to their soft hair. You still hadn't seen their face. The idea of turning to them had just crossed your mind when, all of a sudden, you felt an arm grip yours harshly. It yanked you away from the body behind you. Immediately snapping out of your buzz, you looked up to see who the hell grabbed you.
"What the fuck?"
You spat. Your lips clamped shut as soon as your eyes found the person responsible. It was your ex. Your very jealous, very angry ex. The two of you had a very nasty break up three months ago. It didn't upset you much; the two of you had only been together for a couple months anyway. He, however, took it very badly. You'd had to block his number and block him on all social media. He was saying crazy things about you being the love of his life. You felt nowhere near that intense love for him, so you thought it was best to just detach.
And now here he was, staring back angrily at you. Before you could say anything else, he yanked your arm again, pulling you outside. Your mind started to swirl from the adrenaline and the alcohol. Once you were out the back entrance, your ex pushed you up against a wall. Your back slightly ached from how roughly he handled you.
"What the hell, Flynn? What are you doing here?"
You croaked out. You crinkled your brow, and held a hand to your head. Everything was spinning.
"What the fuck were you doing dancing with him like that, huh (Y/n)? All those times you told me not to be jealous. I always knew there was something going on between the two of you," he replied angrily.
You blinked your eyes open and fixed them on Flynn.
"What are you talking about?!"
You were quickly sobering up and growing impatient. Flynn shouldn't be here, and he had no right to put his hands on you and drag you outside. Had no one seen him drag you out? What about the guy you were dancing with?
Flynn scoffed.
"Don't play dumb. I saw you grinding on him. I fucking knew you were sleeping with him," he sneered.
You attempted to shove Flynn away from you, but he caught your arms. You struggled against him.
"Hey!"
You heard a voice in the distance, but didn't have time to find the source. Suddenly, Flynn was being pulled away from you.
"The fuck are you doing, mate? You don't put your fucking hands on her like that," you heard the voice echo on the patio. You immediately put your hands on your knees, simultaneously trying to breathe and not vomit.
A scuffle must have erupted while your head was down because you definitely heard someone get hit. The sound of the gate exiting the patio followed, cuing that someone ran out of it. Before you could look up, gentle hands were at your elbows helping you stand up straight.
"Are you okay, (Y/N)?"
Whose voice was that? You'd heard it before. As the hands eased you up to stand, you connected eyes with Jonah. Your mouth almost fell open.
"Yes," you stuttered, licking your lips.
You didn't miss the way Jonah's eyes followed the action.
"Yes, I'm okay. Just a little stunned is all," you blurted.
Why were you nervous? You instantly noticed that Jonah's hands hadn't left your arms.
"Why are you out here?"
You were curious why he, of all people, had come.
Jonah's face took on a puzzled expression.
"What do you mean, (Y/N)?"
You straightened your posture at hearing your name tumble out of his lips again.
"I mean why are you here? None of my friends saw him grab me?"
Jonah shook his head.
"No. The crowd on the dance floor was packed pretty tightly. I was following the two of you out when he grabbed you, but I got stopped by some women." Jonah winced.
Ignoring the picture that popped in your head, you were still confused.
"How did you see him grab me and my friends didn't then?"
At your question, Jonah's mouth formed an o, and he dropped his hands from your arms. He scrubbed one across the back of his neck nervously.
"Oh, uh, I guess you might not have realized. I was the one dancing with you." Jonah admitted this with a tinge of pink on his cheeks.
You swore time stood still.
"What?"
The question was more for yourself or the universe than it was for Jonah. Jonah chuckled, grimacing.
"Yeah, I apologize for coming up behind you like that. I'd been drinking, and I love watching you dance. I couldn't help myself tonight. I wanted to dance with you," he shrugged.
You swallowed the lump in your throat. What did this mean? You were grinding on Jonah that entire time. Had your friends or Sebastian witnessed it? Also, what the hell: he loves watching you dance? So many questions flooded your mind. You blinked at Jonah, and then moved to walk past him and back into the bar.
"Wait, (Y/N)!"
Jonah instinctively grabbed your arm, but let go when you stopped and glanced down at his hand.
"Look, I'm sorry. I know I haven't been the nicest to you over the years-" Jonah started.
"You're right, you haven't," you snapped.
"I was pretty convinced that you hated me, and now you suddenly have the urge to dance with me? What the hell, Jonah?"
You threw your hands up in frustration.
"I know what it looks like, and I'm sorry. I truly am. I have never hated you." Jonah tried to placate.
You were having none of it.
"That's not how it looks, Jonah. That's how it is," you corrected.
Jonah huffed a breath.
"Please, (Y/N), let me explain. If you don't believe it, then you can leave, and we can go back to never speaking again," he suggested.
You let out a tired sigh, shaking your head.
"You have, like, a minute tops," you acquiesced, crossing your arms over your chest.
Jonah appeared to be relieved and cleared his throat.
"Right. When Sebastian and I were graduating high school, I noticed you at the ceremony. You had always been there, always as Sebastian's little sister, but I began to see you in a different light. I saw how you blossomed into a kind, intelligent, young woman over the years. I began to notice that your laugh can always bring life to any room. I began to see things you were doing to better the world around you. I started to see who you truly are." Jonah smiled down at you, dimples on full display.
Damn those adorable dimples.
"I realized that I actually liked being around you. So, naturally, I distanced myself. I always kept you at arm's length, and pretended not to notice you. I thought that falling for my best friend's sister would be too ironic." Jonah sucked in a nervous breath.
"The fact of the matter is that I'm drawn to you, (Y/N). I can't deny it anymore. My gaze follows you anytime we're in a room together. I feel a pang in my chest when I realize that your eyes don't search for mine. I don't know what to do with these feelings, so I've pushed them down. But tonight, when I saw you dancing, I felt pulled to you. Like I said, I couldn't help myself." Jonah shrugged, letting you digest his words.
You pursed your lips, deep in thought. Jonah's bright blue eyes looked sincere. Over the years, you'd heard people call Jonah many things, but a liar was never one of them.
You strummed your fingers on your arm. You eventually released a grunt of frustration.
"How do I know this isn't a trick?"
You eyed Jonah suspiciously. As much as you wanted to believe him, you just weren't sure you bought the whole story.
Jonah's mouth fell open at your question.
"What? (Y/N), I would never do that to you. Firstly, Sebastian would kill me. Secondly, this has been years in the making. I'm sure that if my feelings were insincere, they would have passed by now. Haven't you wondered why I never date?"
Your eyes bulged at the realization. Jonah never dated because of you? That was insane. Women literally threw themselves at him all the time.
"I know what you're thinking." Jonah put up his hands in surrender, slowly taking a step towards you.
"And yes, I never date because of you. I had resigned myself to years of only seeing you at Sebastian's place or at your family gatherings. I thought that it would be enough, but it's not. I want to be with you, (Y/N). I want you to know me like I know you." Jonah cautiously lifted his hand to cup your cheek.
You fiercely studied his eyes. When you still only found sincerity in them, you decided to cave, giving in to Jonah's touch. His lips parted with a small gasp when you leaned your cheek into his hand and closed your eyes.
"Don't fuck this up, Jonah," you begged.
Jonah chuckled, bringing up his second hand to cup your other cheek.
"I wouldn't dream of it," he whispered, leaning into you.
You felt his warmth growing closer, but you kept your eyes closed. Jonah's lips brushed against yours. You reciprocated, and Jonah molded his mouth to yours. You were getting lost in the kiss when the two of you were startled by the door slamming open.
"Oi, there you are!" Sebastian yelled.
Wincing, you waited to get an earful from your brother. The reaction you got instead surprised you.
"Ugh, you two are finally hooking up? Took ya long enough," he slurred.
You fixed him with a shocked look.
"What do you mean?"
Sebastian rolled his eyes and leaned against the doorframe, holding his beer in one hand.
"Psshh. Jonah's been making googly eyes at you for years. I know how to read my best friend. 'm not an idiot," he said like it was obvious.
"Come on back inside, everyone's dancing now." Sebastian motioned behind him before he turned to go back into the bar.
You looked at Jonah with a cheeky smile. His dimples made their appearance again before Jonah grabbed your hand in his.
