Page 25

Chapter 24

Deirdre

“Beauty of whatever kind, in its supreme development, invariably excites the sensitive soul to tears.” Edgar Allan Poe

Professor McKnight : I need you this evening. I can’t wait until tomorrow.

Deirdre: I picked up a shift at Salvation.

T he week crawls by at a glacial pace, each day blending into the next, anticipation for Saturday’s double date lingering in the back of my mind like a persistent hum. Kieran, of course, remains the ever-composed professor, delivering lectures on Poe with the kind of fervor only he can. His voice is smooth, authoritative, filling the lecture hall as he dissects the twisted brilliance of The Tell-Tale Heart and The Black Cat .

But I can’t focus. Not really.

Not with the way he carries himself. The way his eyes flicker toward me every so often sends heat curling in my stomach. Not when I know exactly how his voice sounds when it’s a whisper against my skin instead of a commanding force in a classroom.

By Friday, I’m practically vibrating with restlessness, tapping my pen against my notebook as he wraps up our second class of the day.

“And with that, we’ll conclude our discussion on our unreliable narrator,” Kieran announces, shutting his book with a soft thud . “Your essays on the comparative elements of Hawthorne and Poe have been graded, and I will return them on Monday.”

I exhale, relieved that my brain won’t have to process another assignment over the weekend.

“Oh, and…Miss Ravencroft,” Kieran continues, his tone even but laced with a desire only I would recognize. “Would you mind staying after class? I’d like to discuss your paper.”

Multiple pairs of eyes shift to me as my classmates scurry out for fear they’ll be his next victim.

Beside me, Claire makes a soft noise, somewhere between a giggle and a knowing hmm . She smirks as she gathers her things, leaning in to whisper, “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

I scoff under my breath. “That’s a very short list.”

She just winks and flounces out of the auditorium with the rest of the students, leaving me sitting there as the heavy doors shut behind them. The room is cavernous now, eerily quiet except for the sound of my own breathing and the steady click of Kieran’s shoes as he descends from the podium, coming toward me.

“You wanted to discuss my paper, Professor? ” I ask, feigning innocence as I turn in my seat to face him.

Kieran hums, stopping beside my desk. “Hmm. I’m not sure discuss is the right word.”

Then, without another word, he reaches for me, his fingers grazing my jaw before pulling me to my feet. His lips crash onto mine, every ounce of restraint unraveling as his hands slide down my waist, gripping me as though he’s been starving all week. I melt into him instantly, fingers curling into the crisp fabric of his shirt as I breathe him in.

He pulls back slightly, his forehead resting against mine, his breath warm against my lips. “I’ve been waiting all week to do that,” he murmurs.

A shiver runs through me, but before I can form a response, Kieran moves, spinning me gently until I’m facing his desk. My hands splay against the polished wood as he steps behind me, his body pressing flush against mine, his warmth seeping through my clothes. My breath hitches as Kieran’s large hands grip my hips firmly, his fingers digging into my flesh with just enough pressure to make my knees weak.

“Kieran…” I start, but he hushes me.

“Quiet, Miss Ravencroft, ” he says softly against my ear. “I’m not finished with you. Bend over the desk.”

I hesitate for just a moment, enough for him to notice.

“Now,” he adds, the single word leaving no room for argument.

The wooden surface feels cool against my palms as I lean forward, my heart hammering wildly in my chest. I hear the rustle of movement behind me, then feel his fingers hooking into the waistband of my leggings, slowly dragging them down over the curve of my hips and exposing my skin to the cool air of the auditorium.

“Beautiful,” he murmurs as he gently caresses my ass.

A shaky exhale leaves my lips, my fingers gripping the desk tighter, piles of graded papers crinkling beneath them. The wooden edge of the desk presses against my thighs. The room, the entire world , fades around me. Right now, it’s just him and me.

“I’ve missed this,” he whispers as he drags his fingers down my ass and in between my legs.

Words fail me as his fingers find their way inside me, exploring me with careful deliberation. I gasp, my back arching involuntarily, pushing into his hand. He listens to the sounds I make, adjusting his rhythm to match the quickening of my breaths.

“Like this?” he asks, his voice husky as he curls his fingers, finding that delicate spot that makes me cry out softly.

I nod frantically, trying desperately not to make a sound.

“Don't move,” Kieran commands, his voice low and gravely with desire. The authority in his tone sends a shiver up my spine.

I feel him kneel behind me, his breath warm against my legs. My heart pounds so loudly I'm certain he can hear it echoing off the walls of the auditorium, at least it feels that way, bounding in my ears. His free hand traces delicate patterns upward from my ankles, and I bite my lip to stifle the whimper threatening to escape. I close my eyes as his lips graze the back of my thigh, working their way upward with gentle kisses peppering my skin.

“I want to hear you.” His voice is deep and coarse with desire. Chills erupt on my skin as his lips brush delicately against my inner thigh.

I grip the edge of the desk, my knuckles whitening as I feel his mouth on me. A moan escapes my lips, involuntary and unrestrained.

“Kieran,” I whisper, my voice breaking as his tongue traces patterns that make my knees weaken. The wooden desk creaks slightly as I shift, trying to press myself closer to him.

“Don't move, Deirdre,” he murmurs against my flesh. My eyes widen at the sound of my name. We’re not in our dynamic. This is us, raw and exposed.

I gasp as Kieran’s tongue flicks expertly against my clit. Waves of pleasure course through my body as he licks and sucks, coaxing my orgasm to the surface. I can feel the tension building, my muscles tightening as I get closer and closer to the edge.

My head falls forward as my panting breaths fill the auditorium. He pulls his mouth away from me and stands up behind me. The intense waves of pleasure begin to subside, painfully slowly.

Leaning forward, he brushes my hair away from my shoulders.

His breath is hot on my skin. “Read the paper.”

I can feel him behind me, slowly pulling his slacks down, freeing himself from the fabric prison. He closes any distance there is left between us as his cock gently pushes against the entrance of my pussy.

Confused for a moment, I try to focus on the white sheets before me. My vision clears, and I see the familiar poem on the paper.

The Raven .

This man really expects me to read a poem when he is about to fuck me?

“‘And the silken sad…’” I begin, as he pushes inside of me, gripping my hips. I begin to stutter.

“I need to hear you, Miss Ravencroft,” he growls low in my ear, “Read it again.”

I read the line again, my voice shaking. I can hear the words catch in my throat, and I know it’s not just the poem choking me up. It’s everything wrapped around us. My feelings for him, the way he worships me, the thrill of our secrets. My hands brace against the desk to hold myself up. I desperately need something solid beneath me while he unravels me from the inside out.

“‘And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain…’” My voice trembles. “Thrilled me—filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before…”

My breath hitches as Kieran continues to press into me from behind, one hand on my hip, the other sliding up my spine, slowly.

I close my eyes, reveling in the sensations burning across my skin.

“You feel that?” he murmurs, his lips grazing the nape of my neck. “That’s what you do to me, Deirdre. Every time you speak. Every time you walk into my classroom with your eyes full of ghosts behind them.”

I nod once, but barely. The sound of our skin meeting fills the auditorium, and I can hear the sounds of my own arousal with each forceful thrust.

“The way I fuck you sounds like poetry,” he chokes out. “Keep going. Don’t stop reading.”

My fingers curl against the paper, and I swallow the knot building in my throat.

“‘Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing…’” My voice is hoarse now, but I’m determined to keep reading, to prove to him how strong I am.

His hand slides lower. A gasp bursts from my lips, and my body melts into his.

“You have no idea what you do to me,” he growls into my hair. “I swore I’d never let myself feel like this again. Not after Alexis. Not after the wreckage I became. But you…”

He trails his lips down the side of my neck, slowly, as if he is savoring the way I shudder beneath him.

“You make me feel alive, as if I am someone worth saving.”

There’s a moment when he pauses. His breaths are ragged, and he presses his forehead to the back of my shoulder. His hands grip me tighter than he should. It hurts, but I’m living for the pain.

That’s when he loses his composure. As he continues to move inside me, he softly murmurs, “I’m terrified of how much I need you. Of how easily you could ruin me.”

I turn my head slightly, trying to see his face, my voice softer than it was before. “Kieran…”

He lifts my hair, pressing a kiss to the back of my neck. “Say it again,” I whisper.

“Read it to me.”

I do.

“‘And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, Lenore ?’” The words come out breathless as his hips stutter. “‘This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, Lenore !’”

He stills inside me for a moment.

That name— Lenore . A ghost in the poem. His beloved.

He’s been running from his past, his own ghost. But here we are very much alive.

As if he realizes this too, he grips my hips again, rougher this time, his voice low and broken. “You’re not a ghost. Do you hear me? I won’t let you become one.”

My heart shatters open.

“I’m right here, Kieran. Feel me.”

He kisses the back of my shoulder. Once. Twice. A third time, each time softer than before. The way a man worships something he’s terrified to lose.

He begins to move again, slowly this time. But it’s not enough. I need more. I ram my hips into his, meeting him thrust for thrust until he picks up speed.

“Oh God, Kieran,” I moan. “Don’t stop…”

“That’s it,” Kieran whispers. “Let go for me.”

Heat begins to build low in my belly as the tension coils tighter and tighter. The intensity builds to an almost unbearable peak.

Kieran pulls back just enough to growl, “Come for me, Deirdre. Now.”

His commanding tone sends a thrill through me, pushing me over the edge. My release rips through me as my hips buck, pressing myself into him. I cry out, my body shuddering harder as my orgasm pulses through me. He holds my hips steady, drawing out every wave of pleasure until my muscles begin to relax.

My body feels like liquid as I collapse onto the desk. I rest my cheek against the smooth surface for a brief moment before attempting to stand. My legs tremble, barely holding me up, and I let out a breathless laugh, my fingers gripping the edge of the wooden desk for support. Kieran, after adjusting himself back into his slacks, slides my leggings back up my legs with careful precision, his touch lingering on my skin.

I giggle deliriously, the remnants of pleasure still pulsing through me. “If that’s what I should expect after turning in assignments, then is there extra credit?”

Kieran huffs a quiet laugh, shaking his head as he straightens. Before I can fully regain my footing, he turns me around, pulling me against him. His lips press against mine, slow but deep, stealing the last bit of air from my lungs. I can taste myself on him, a heady reminder of his mouth on me, and it sends a fresh wave of heat curling in my stomach.

When he finally pulls away, his gaze is dark with satisfaction, a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth.

“Well,” he murmurs, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear, “since I can’t have you tonight, I had to have you right now.”

I shiver at the possessiveness in his voice, but his words stir something else in me, a sad reminder that, once again, we’ll be spending the night apart.

As much as I want to pull him back in, to demand more, I settle for asking, “Are you coming to Salvation tonight?”

His brows lift slightly. “I can, if it won’t make things awkward for you. I don’t want to get in the way of your job.”

I snort, rolling my eyes. “It wouldn’t be any different than before. Now you’re just my professor.” My voice drips with sarcasm, but my teasing only makes his smirk widen.

He leans in again, pressing a final kiss to my lips, this one softer. “Careful, Miss Ravencroft,” he murmurs against my mouth, his hands settling on my waist. “Keep calling me your professor and I might just have to grade you on more than your essays.”

A thrill runs down my spine, but before I can quip back, he steps away, already smoothing down his shirt and reaching for his jacket. My legs are still unsteady as I push off the desk, breathless, utterly wrecked, and yet completely unable to shake the giddy anticipation that’s settling in my stomach.

Leaving Kieran in the auditorium, I step out of the building and into the crisp autumn air, my body still humming with the aftershocks of what just happened. My legs feel wobbly, my lips swollen from Kieran’s kisses, and there’s a smug, satisfied ache between my thighs that makes me bite my bottom lip just thinking about it.

My phone vibrates in my bag, and I already know who it is before I even pull it out.

Claire: So?

I roll my eyes but can’t help the small grin tugging at my lips. I don’t answer right away, focusing on weaving through students as I make my way back to the dorm. With each step, I feel reality creeping back in, the reality where I have to shower, change, and get ready for work, where I can’t spend the rest of the night tangled up in Kieran the way I desperately want to.

My phone buzzes again.

Claire: HELLO?! Did he fu ck your brains out or nah?

I choke on a laugh, covering my mouth as I shake my head. The girl has no shame.

Deirdre: Jesus, Claire. Can’t I walk back to the dorm in peace?

Claire: Oh, you can walk? Interesting.

I snort, pushing open the dorm entrance and heading up the stairs.

Deirdre: Barely. Happy?

Claire: VERY. Now spill, bitch.

I hesitate before answering, not because I don’t want to tell her—I find myself telling Claire everything lately—but because part of me wants to savor this, to keep my little secret a little longer. It’s only a matter of time before someone aside from Claire and Gabe finds out about us.

I unlock our door and step inside, tossing my bag onto the bed and toeing off my shoes. Claire spins around in the desk chair.

“OH MY GOD!” she shrieks.

“Claire, lower your voice.” I hush her as I shut the door. Turning to her and smiling, I say, “Let’s just say I’m now VERY motivated to turn in assignments on time.”

She squeals again. “I need to sit down. Wait. I AM sitting down.” She pauses. “Ugh! Why can’t I be banging the hot professor? Ya know it’d be my luck I’d get stuck with Professor Hardy.”

I laugh at the thought of her with our very Santa-looking French literature professor. I shake my head as I start peeling off my layers of clothes.

I guess I did get lucky with the hot professor.

“I have to shower and get ready for work, but we can have a full debrief later. Are you coming to Salvation tonight to keep Gabe company?”

“You know it. Gotta show these women their competition.” She laughs.

“Trust me, Gabe has his hands full with you,” I say as I toss my bag on the bed, still grinning as I grab my towel and head toward the bathroom. I turn the water on and finish getting undressed as I wait for the shower to warm up.

Even as the hot water cascades over me, washing away the evidence of my encounter with Kieran, his memory lingers, his hands, his mouth, his voice murmuring against my skin.

I have no idea how I’m supposed to focus at work tonight, especially with him watching my every move.