Page 27 of Wings of Ashes (Wings of Ashes #1)

CHAPTER

“ M iss Oadess,” Professor Thierry said in his low, gravelly tone that reminded her of a hot stone massage. Hard, heated, yet surprisingly soothing.

“Uh, Professor Thierry,” she muttered back nervously. She clenched the hem of her pleated skirt and cursed the wetness between her legs. It was made worse by the fact that he could smell it.

He knew she had orgasmed during his class.

He could scent the proof that she came.

Bael had ditched her with a wink and a “good luck.” Now, she was alone with the man who had—in her or Bael’s or whoever’s fantasy she had lived through—flashed his erotic, perfect dick in front of her and guided it to her mouth. The act that had triggered her orgasm in the fantasy.

“Do you know what is worse than chatting or doodling or daydreaming during my class?” he asked gruffly.

Coming so hard that my eyes rolled back and my toes curled? “Um…” Her fingers clenched the hem of her skirt tighter. Damn it, nothing like this ever happened in my previous life .

“Do you think the incubus will protect you?” Professor Thierry asked abruptly.

Nix blinked in confusion; her eyebrows scrunched. “What?”

“Last night, you said you were only interested in tying yourself to a man for the means of protection.”

With his dark wooden desk between them, he laid both of his palms out on the smooth top and leaned over it, so his face was closer to hers.

He warned, “An incubus is not the type of creature you should look to for protection. They only care about themselves.”

“I’m not looking to anyone for—”

“I could protect you,” he told her. His slate-colored eyes locked with hers.

“What do you mean?”

“I could be the one to protect you,” he repeated. “So that you don’t have to…feel the need to build relationships with any of the immature males of this school.”

Was Nix still dreaming? Had the professor, who originally shunned her from taking his class, just offered to be her protector?

“I don’t need your protection. Not now at least,” Nix replied unevenly. “Maybe after graduation.”

“I—”

“I want to learn to protect myself,” she said. Adamant, she crossed her arms over her chest and feigned the unfamiliar feeling of power. “This time, I will. I will become stronger and learn how to fight or protect myself with potions and—”

He cut her off. “I am deeply sorry to say this, but the scent of your arousal is overwhelming and making it very difficult to concentrate on our conversation.”

Nix rolled her eyes. Men .

He reached out and loosened his tie. It was a very mundane action, but on him, it was downright salacious. With his tie loosened and the first two buttons of his dress shirt opened, he exposed the base of his neck.

“If you dismissed me, you wouldn’t have to smell—”

His palm slammed onto the desk in frustration. “You really fucking came during my lecture,” he murmured lowly to himself.

“It wasn’t my fault—”

“I told you to never make eye contact with an incubus,” the sexy professor lectured her and pushed his wide-rimmed glasses higher on the bridge of his nose. “They can make you see things. Feel things.”

“Confirmed that, thanks,” Nix said, her tone annoyed.

“You are meant to be listening and learning. You said you read the book; you said you cared about this class—”

“I do,” she defended.

Professor Thierry struck his desk again, captivating Nix with the smooth whacks that his hand delivered. The act reminded her of the spanking Bael gave her in the fantasy, the one she did not realize how much she liked until it happened.

Thierry growled loudly, “Then, why the fuck , were you looking at him when you should have been looking at me?” His chest moved up and down with heavy breaths as he tried to regain his sense of control.

Nix exhaled in shock. The professor almost sounded jealous. “What?”

“What did he make you see that made you come?” Professor Thierry asked. His desperate eyes spewed fervor and intensity. “I need to know.”

His long fingers tensed on the desk—the same desk where Nix had been bent over and fingered to a perfect orgasm in the fantasy.

She quivered at the sight of his masculine fingers spread over the wood.

“What did he make you see?” he asked again.

What was she supposed to say? Admit that it was him joining in during the illusion that pushed her over the sexual edge? “Why do you need to know?” she shot back, embarrassed.

“Because I do .” His eyes gleamed with a forbidden want—desire in its most adrenaline-induced form. Pure yearning. “I shouldn’t. But…every part of me is hungry to know. Fucking thirsty for it.”

“You don’t have to know everything, you know,” Nix said.

“I can smell how wet your pussy is. I know how easy it would be to slip a finger inside you and test that tight heat that has been stealing my intellectual and critical thoughts. I’ve never been able to sleep well, but last night…

I was scared to dream,” he stressed as if she would know what he meant by that.

“I don’t understand.”

“You and your scent—fucking haunting me,” Professor Thierry accused. “Why did you collect those herbs in the forest last night?”

“You followed me?”

“You were the one who told me you worried about feeling protected.”

“I thought you hated me, professor.” Nix threw her arms up in the air in defeat. “I don’t understand these mood swings of yours. You say you want to protect me now and that you are thirsty to know what image made me come?”

“Yes,” he replied, his pupils dilating into huge black spheres as if he was being overcome by something dark and wild.

“You really want to know? Because some knowledge is dangerous.”

“I can handle it.”

“Yeah?” she challenged. “Okay.” Frustrated and immensely tired, Nix admitted, “Bael had me thinking I was naked.”

Thierry’s nostrils flared. “Naked in my classroom?” His silver eyes narrowed and singed her skin with a delicious tingly sensation.

“On your desk.” Nix nodded to the scene of the crime.

Splayed out on your desk. Moaning .

Thierry smoothed both of his palms over the width of his desk, and Nix swore she felt the warm stroke of his hands on her body from the sight alone. “My desk?” he asked through clenched teeth. “Naked on my desk?”

“Yes.”

His throat bobbed as he yanked more on his loosened tie, as if requiring more air. “Pinned to it?”

“Bent over it.” Nix painted the picture.

“What else?” he demanded.

The classroom temperature rivaled a greenhouse from the amount of heat emanating from him. He must have been warm in his tweed suit jacket.

“You want to know more ?”

“I assume he was fucking you on my desk, is that right?” Thierry hissed. “Were you leaving a little puddle of your wetness on my desk, Miss Oadess? Did the wood feel good against your hot, smooth skin as you came?”

She swallowed as a new flash of heat snaked through her lower abdomen and twisted and turned and tightened.

“And where was I, as he fucked you on my desk?” he asked in such a dark, ominous tone that Nix wondered what answer would satisfy him.

“Where were you?” she repeated.

“Where was I, that I would have allowed him to take you on my desk?”

Nix bit her inner cheek. Deep down, she knew he would not let her leave without an honest answer. Exhausted and turned on, she made a decision.

She said simply, in a sweet voice, “You were fucking my mouth.”

Thierry’s jaw practically unhinged as his mouth fell open. He exhaled choppily as he grasped for sanity. “I…”

“You said my moaning was a distraction to the rest of the class, so you thrust your dick in my mouth.”

Groaning, Thierry aggressively rubbed his hands over his eyes and mouth. “I…fuck, I shouldn’t know that.” He asked softly, “You…fantasized about me?”

She defiantly placed her hands on her hips and asked, with plenty of attitude, “Can I go now, professor?”

His hooded, hungry eyes darkened on her, staring right through her. Finally, he gave a tense, jerking nod.

As she turned to leave, she heard him curse.

“Miss Oadess, please consider disposing of your now very fragrant undergarments before going to the cafeteria full of sexually frustrated males.”

The academy alpha assholes needed to learn to stop smelling her arousal.

She spun around to face him. “It’s always the women who have to cater to the men, huh? Instead of asking all the males to control themselves when smelling the pheromones of a satisfied coed, you expect me to change clothes. Me to make them feel more ‘comfortable.’”

Meeting his gaze, she dipped her fingers under her skirt and pulled down her wet panties. His widening eyes followed the soaked fabric as it fell down the length of her legs.

She grabbed the damp panties and tossed them into the trashcan by the front door.

Holding her chin up high, she did not glance his way as she walked out.