Page 6 of Schooling Lucy (Off Limits #1)

R OMAN

I was kicked back casually against my desk, observing my class. My arms were folded, and I had a neutral expression on my face. The students were split into groups and scattered around the room doing practical work and sharing ideas. It was a brief reprieve to unwind and catch up on paperwork.

But there was no way I could relax when my thoughts were so stormy. To the casual onlooker, I appeared relaxed. But if they looked closely, they would spy my hands clenching and releasing against my arms. They would catch the barely noticeable tick in my eye and the grinding of my jaw.

I was going to kill Gavin Taylor.

If he leaned over my girl one more time with the pretense of reading the source material, I would start flipping tables.

As much as I wanted to keep Lucy contained to her desk and away from the opposite sex, I couldn't avoid group work. It was crucial in effective learning, plus it was in the school curriculum.

But seeing the popular jock, with his stupid floppy hair, brush up against my girl's arm had me seeing red.

Luckily, Lucy appeared ignorant of his amateur flirting.

She gave him half smiles, conversed with him when needed, and pointed out fractions in the textbook when he played dumb.

She didn't pay him any more attention than the other three group members.

I was still planning on spanking her for allowing Gavin to flirt with her, though. Was it reasonable? No. But I itched to place my mark on her.

"Five more minutes." My voice echoed across the room, propelling some students to hurry through their tasks.

Lucy's eyes met mine. And held. A tinge of pink spread over her cheeks.

Seeing her flush brought back memories of that debauched Friday night. The taste of her pussy lingered on my tongue for hours. I even bypassed my nightly shower routine, fearing that her scent would disappear from my face.

But of course, I had her panties to bring me back. The number of times I sniffed them while jerking off, or using the friction on her panties to run against my cock, should be illegal. I hadn't jerked off this much since I was a horny adolescent.

All this could've been avoided if she just answered my goddamn texts. I had her number since Michael had her down as one of his emergency contacts. I had sent her a barrage of text messages. The next becoming increasingly more desperate than the last.

The little brat was ignoring me. Maybe she thought what we shared was wrong.

Taboo.

Forbidden.

That maybe I was only getting off on her young pussy. Maybe...maybe she thought I did this with other students.

I couldn't wait to dissuade her of that notion - to let her know under no uncertain terms that she was it for me. And I would be letting her know through my cock in her cunt.

Once the bell rang and my students started to file out, I again used the distraction to call upon Lucy.

"Stay behind, Miss Thomas."

LUCY

My body tensed at his words. I lifted my head and watched him shuffling papers, calm as you please.

I had lingered at my desk once the bell rang, putting away the last of my books.

I had taken the time to meticulously input notes in my workbook, determined to stay ahead in my schoolwork.

Despite my protests that I didn't need an escort to lunch, Gavin insisted on waiting for me.

But after Mr. Drake's request, he shot me a sympathetic look before sauntering out of class.

Once the door clicked shut behind the last student, Mr. Drake gestured to the door near his desk.

His private office.

"Follow me."

Without waiting, he strolled out of sight, confident I would obey.

He was pissed. I could sense it as soon as I entered his class. His mood hung like a cloak around me, letting me know with each sly glance I made that he was displeased with me.

I got his texts. They were hard to ignore, considering they came in like a flood.

Your pussy tasted so sweet. I still have it on my tongue.

Did you wash my come off? You better not have.

Why aren't you answering?

I'm going to spank your ass for ignoring me. And then I'm going to fuck it.

My thighs clenched in memory, especially when he went into explicit detail about what he was doing with my dirty panties. He even sent through a dick pic with my ruined cotton underwear wrapped around his long, huge cock.

I had clawed off my sleep shorts and fucked my fingers to the vision of his cock.

I hadn't showered him off. In fact, when he had left me panting and covered in his come, I had scooped up as much as I could and stuffed it in my mouth.

The taste burst like earth and salt. I had licked my fingers as I stuffed the come he had spilled on my pussy into my pussy.

I kept track of my periods, so I knew it was the wrong time of the month for me to fall pregnant. Still, the idea that I could carry a baby without fucking him, that it could happen with his come splattered on my cunt, had me whimpering in pleasure.

After my libido cooled and I was brought back to the harsh reality that my fucking chemistry teacher had just eaten me out and came all over me, I started to panic.

What did we just do? What did I allow to happen? Was this a game to him? Seduce the new student, groom her? Was I being groomed?

I recalled the jolt of soul-searing recognition when I first walked into his class, and our eyes met.

A deep sense of knowing and longing settled deep within me.

It took me a cool minute to realize he was my teacher—not some older-looking senior.

I had tried my best to ignore him, to concentrate on the material in front of me.

But it was as if an invisible band had us joined.

Whenever I glanced up, his dark eyes were assessing me.

Eating me up. I felt naked and exposed. I wondered if he was just annoyed that he had to deal with a new student and that I had arrived late to his class while he was in the middle of teaching.

The girl he had seated me next to that first day seemed hostile, too, making me think that I was being judged and found lacking.

But then my mind drifted to that second day. When he waited by the door...dare I say, for me. Eagerly asking about my day as if he didn't have a room full of students. And then...calling me his good girl. The innuendo was heavy.

That was why I dressed nicely for dinner; I needed to test his response. To assure myself that I hadn't imagined his dark eyes clouding with some indiscernible emotion whenever our eyes met.

Seeing him pump his impressive cock in the bathroom, uncaring that my Dad or I could've walked in and caught him.

When my name spilled from his lips, it coincided with a slick of juice pouring out of me.

Knowing he was thinking of me while pleasuring himself gave me the confidence to spread my thighs at him unabashedly.

To show him my damp panties, let him smell my desire for him.

While he was down there, I could almost feel his breath on my thigh.

I had closed my eyes briefly, waiting for the touch of his mouth.

Nothing like your Dad's voice to throw ice on your libido.

"Get. In."

I jerked at the harsh tone of Mr. Drake's voice from his office. He sounded impatient. Angry.

My feet propelled me forward until I crossed the threshold of his office. He left his place in the center of the small room and slammed the door behind me.

I flinched, clutching my books closer to my chest. I regarded him with wide, almost frightened eyes. But the only part of me he could hurt was my heart.

His gaze was intense. A muscle ticked in his jaw before he reached down and cupped my face.

"I'm so pissed at you, baby girl." The name caused butterflies to take off in my stomach.

"But having you here, all I want to do is this."

Without warning, he covered my mouth with his, swallowing the squeak that came out. I felt his tongue seek entrance, and once I parted my lips, his taste exploded in my mouth.

I had been kissed before Mr. Drake. Stolen kisses at a school dance. I remembered the first time Ian stuck his tongue in my mouth. It felt slimy, and he whirled it around like he was cleaning out my mouth.

Mr. Drake's brief kiss in my bathroom was chaste yet forceful. The kind of kiss I imagined a loving husband giving to their wife as they parted for the day.

But this .

This was how I imagined a husband kissing his wife on their wedding night. Or a lover during a clandestine meeting in a hotel room. Desperate. Hot. Passionate. Longing.

I felt like he wanted to devour me. Eat my mouth just like he had eaten at my pussy.

When he pulled away, a string of saliva clung between our lips briefly before breaking away. As if it, too, protested our parting.

His harsh breaths tickled my face as he placed his forehead against mine.

My lips felt swollen as my breaths puffed out quickly between us.

"What are we doing?" I panted, needing to know. I needed the words.

"Starting our love story."

I whimpered at his profound words, leaning back to stare into his brown eyes. I opened my mouth to echo his sentiment, but my eyes caught on his brown desk and the stack of workbooks in the corner. Certificates and awards littered his desk, my eyes catching on the words 'education' and 'teaching.'

As much as I wanted to lean into his words, the circumstances surrounding our meeting had me stiffening.

"Wha- how...?"

What is happening?

How is this going to work?

"You let me worry about all that, baby," he instructed. "Right now, we're going to talk about the fact that you've been ignoring my messages."

He was glaring at me, his face flushed with irritation. I shivered as I stepped back out of his arms. I was already missing his warmth, but I couldn't allow myself to be swayed by sweet words.

"How many students have you done this with?" I hotly demanded.