Page 5

W ith the desk creaking after each brutal thrust of my hips, my lips fail to hide a smirk at the sight before me. Headmistress Hansley, that insatiable cougar, is bent over her mahogany desk, pencil skirt hiked around her hips. Ample breasts spill over the polished surface, nipples grazing scattered paperwork with each forceful slam into her dripping cunt.

Christ, I haven’t been on campus a full day and already the bitch has me balls-deep. She must’ve had a dismal summer to be this desperate for a good dicking so early. Though I can’t fault her tastes—few resist the allure of prime Whitlocke breeding stock.

A grunt rumbles from my chest as I yank Hansley’s hips flush, burying my cock deeper to at least try and find some pleasure from this. Don’t get me wrong, the heat and velvet grip of her cunt is nearly overwhelming, coaxing fresh sweat down my temple. But I’d much rather be fucking some other tart.

Wonder what Briar’s pussy feels like, I bet she gets so fucking wet when someone—

“That’s it, darling…” Hansley pants, shifting to angle my thick length against that aching bundle of nerves. “Fuck. Just like that… Christ, you always did take direction well.”

Biting back a snort, I let the shrew ride her own pleasure, hips rocking to meet each punishing slam. If she wants to do half the work, I’ve no objections—it’ll speed my release.

This sordid charade is merely a means to an end. Can’t say I mind being beckoned to sate smouldering needs. Not when it paves a streamlined path to securing prime spots for lucrative contracts. Impeccable bloodlines and raw talent aren’t enough to guarantee the choicest commissions. Playing one’s role to perfection is the game, and I’ve never shirked my duties.

Hansley makes the arrangement more palatable than most, I’ll give the bitch that. Mid-forties yet utterly shaggable, with gravity-defying tits and the tightest cunt. Any other bastard would be in ecstasy.

But I’m no lovesick fool, blinded by meagre charms. This farce ends the second that diploma is in my grasp, her disgusting claws sloughing off without a backwards glance. Just need to make it to Ascension, then I collect my fucking Bride prize and leave the vapid harem to wither.

My jaw clenches as Hansley’s cadence grows erratic, nails scrabbling the desktop for purchase. She’s hurtling towards that blissful precipice, every ragged moan telegraphing imminent release crashing over that frame. One more calculated shift and—fuck yes.

There it is. The trembling crescendo ripples through her core, cunt spasming with rapture as a strangled cry shatters stifling silence. I don’t flinch, rhythmically working until velvet walls cease quivering around my girth.

Only then do I allow my cum to coat the condom, numb to sensation thanks to the latex. No need to prolong this pretence any longer than necessary.

With a grunt, I withdraw from Hansley’s soaked quim, rolling the sheath off to tie and toss. The bitch doesn’t flinch as I straighten, merely adjusting her rumpled skirt with a flick of manicured nails.

“See that the new girl attends her Branding as scheduled, ,” Hansley murmurs in that throaty rasp I’ve come to loathe. Ruby lips curve smugly as she pivots to lean against the desk, her fingers idly buttoning her blouse. “Can’t have our star pupils giving West illusions about her status. The campus needs to know she’s off limits.”

Resisting the urge to sneer, I tuck my spent cock back into my trousers and cinch the belt. That smouldering gaze tracks every movement, drinking in the sight like a bitch in perpetual heat. Pathetic.

“You needn’t worry about West becoming misguided under my watch, Headmistress.” The words roll off my tongue in refined disdain certain to garner approval. What a tedious charade, week after week. “I’ve got it well in hand.”

Hansley arches a brow, sceptical of my bravado after the scene in the courtyard no doubt. With an indolent roll of broad shoulders, I straighten my tie, jaw clenched. Can’t have her thinking admonishments get under my skin. Not worth feigning umbrage.

“I’m well aware you know how to handle the help when necessary,” she drawls, tone dripping condescension. “You’ve always been so adept at keeping the riffraff in line.”

My mouth twists at the barb, tongue tracing sharp molars before responding. “Yeah, well, isn’t that what you fucking trained me for?” The words are laced with enough frost to trigger that quickening of Hansley’s pulse in her throat. Fuck, she’s an easy mark. “West’s tantrum was ill-bred posturing. Don’t trouble that head over passing theatrics. Let her settle, then we’ll tighten the leash.”

Hansley studies me before humming. “Since we’re on the subject of riffraff, I trust you’ll join the other boys at Harcourt’s festivities later?” A sculpted brow arches as I angle a glance, hands shoved in pockets with nonchalance.

“I promised Jace I’d make an appearance.”

“See that the idiot savant doesn’t stuff his prick into anything without pedigree this time. You know some of the Initiates like to sneak in women from off-campus,” she clicks her tongue. “I can hardly afford more gossip about the Academy’s inability to train gentlemen. One ill-bred bastard slipping his balls where it doesn’t belong, and half the registers will be alight with scandal before breakfast.”

Resisting the urge to laugh at her faux outrage over a past shag’s antics, I nod in acknowledgement. The smug cunt acts as though her own penchant for bartering favours for contracts and blackmail isn’t an open secret.

Christ, the self-delusion… It’s almost impressive.