Jane was fifteen minutes early to class that morning. Professor Hiddleston and several other students were already in the lecture room when she arrived. Some of her classmates spoke amongst themselves, while others flocked around their professor's desk. The low baritone of his voice echoed in the room, the sound alone making her throb, to her irritation, as she remembered the lascivious things he'd murmured to her the night before.

"No, I want a clear thesis and a thorough literary criticism, not a summarization of what you've read. The criteria are on the handout, which is available online if you no longer have it. If you can't find it, come see me during my office hours," he said briskly.

Jane's gut twisted as he mentioned his office hours. The girl he was speaking with nodded sheepishly and returned to her seat, but Jane couldn't help but wonder how many other girls had he taken on his desk. The student he'd just spoken with was now quietly texting in her chair… She wasn't flustered or visibly aroused by the invitation from their professor. Maybe she was just overreacting.

As Jane made her way to a chair, a young man began talking with the professor. Jane couldn't hear them from where she now sat near the back of the room, but in mid-sentence Thomas' eyes raised and immediately flicked to hers. He hadn't needed to search the room; it was as if he already knew where she was, that she'd entered. As he held her gaze a shiver shot down her spine and her cheeks heated. The professor's expression wasn't friendly. It wasn't kind. It was hungry and possessive. He studied her for a few more seconds before he cleared his throat and interrupted the student speaking with him, motioning for him to sit. The boy nodded and went to his seat.

The professor rose from his desk and the packed room quieted. As he strode down an aisle, she had to admit he commanded the space beautifully—every set of eyes was locked on him with pens, pencils and laptops in place to enthusiastically take notes. He spoke on the second half of the Aeneid, detailing the war in Italy that took place after Aeneas returned from the underworld. His speech was dynamic, his inflection practiced and effective, accented by the rising and lowering of his brows and passionate expressions. He was animated, but authoritative, and on occasion threw in bits of humor to gauge his audience's interest. The professor gestured with his hands to emphasize importance, paused for dramatic effect and made eye contact with every face in the room, including Jane's. His steady cadence was soothing, but engaging, and when their eyes locked, her cheeks heated as he wet his lip. She unconsciously did the same as she imagined the feeling of his mouth on hers, much to her scholastic dismay. She'd never struggled to pay attention before. He shot her a charming smile that calmed her nerves before his gaze moved to the next student.

Halfway through the class period, the professor changed gears.

"By now you've finished the excerpts and heard me speak. I want to know what you think. Is the Aeneid politically subversive to the Augustan regime, or is it a celebration of the new imperial dynasty?"

Hands raised and a discussion began, but Jane's attention was on the man nearing her. She sat almost alone in the back row, and as he climbed the stairs with his gaze set on her, it became clear she was about to have more company. He shot her a lofty smile before seating himself several chairs away. Jane stared at him in awe, her mouth open and eyes wide as he nonchalantly settled in and took notes on students leading the debate.

Normally Jane was shy. However, she was also opinionated. Her voice was soft, but clear when she spoke, and people paid attention when she did. She had ideas to add to the conversation, but he was so close to her that her mouth was dry and she could barely swallow, let alone chime in to contribute. Thomas watched the debate rally, his long legs sprawled open beneath the table. She caught herself looking, which caused her to blush. She had an intimate knowledge of what hung between his thighs.

The students quieted as the clock neared eleven. The professor stood and trotted down the stairs to his desk, which he leaned his back against so that he faced the class.

"We'll discuss the First Circle on Monday, so make sure you come to class prepared. Pay close attention to the similarities between the Inferno and Book VI of the Aeneid." He gazed casually around the room until his eyes came to rest on a flustering Jane. "Miss Stevens, a word?" He didn't wait for her to respond before turning to a student with an inquiry.

Slowly Jane made her way down the stairs, waiting patiently as friends mingled and blocked the way with their social swarms. Another group had gathered around the professor's desk and he was answering questions and chatting while the room emptied. Despite having requested her presence, Thomas ignored Jane even as the number of people around him dwindled. It wasn't until the last of the students had trickled from the room that he finally glanced up. The poor girl's face was flushed and she shifted nervously, glancing back at the door as if contemplating escape.

"How did you sleep, Jane?"

Still, he neglected to look at her. He opened his desk drawer and pulled out a cloth, then removed his glasses and began cleaning them. Thomas was seemingly so absorbed in his task as he held them out in front of him that he didn't witness Jane squirm, but he smirked as he heard her clothes rustle as she moved uneasily

"I-Is this the appropriate place to have this conversation?" Her voice was timid, as though she were truly unsure.

His voice lowered, adapting a gravellier sound as he spoke.

"Sweet Jane," he said with a small smile. He leaned back in his chair and clasped his hands behind his head, giving her a clear view of his sculpted chest through his white dress shirt. "We're merely speaking with one another. That's not a crime. Unless, of course, you were planning to get down on your knees?"

The poor girl gasped in indignant surprise and took a step back.

"Of course not!"

"Then there's no issue, is there, darling?"

Jane looked down as she scuffed the sole of her boot against the linoleum floor and shook her head. There was a beat of silence before his smooth voice sounded again.

"Come closer, Jane."

She took an uncertain step forward, and then another until she stood a foot away from the edge of his desk. He watched her casually, tilting his head to the side as he admired her bare legs and sweater dress.

"Closer, please."

With a shaky sigh, Jane stepped until her hips were flush against the wood.

"Get on the desk."

Jane made bewildered noise and staggered backwards, glancing longingly at the partially open door.

"Climb on top of my desk, Jane."

Adamantly the girl shook her head. "No," she whispered.

Thomas leaned forward, steepling his fingers against his lips.

"The literary criticism you wrote on the Aeneid was very good."

As if afraid to confirm what he said, she reluctantly nodded.

"It would be a shame if you got another B. That would bring your entire grade down, wouldn't it?"

Her jaw dropped open as her entire chest and neck heated with embarrassment.

"You cannot do that."

"I'm not doing anything, dear Jane. I'm merely stating a fact. Earning a B would bring your overall grade down, which would be unfortunate," he said with a dismissive wave of his hand. He wouldn't truly hold her grade over her, but she didn't know that.

Chest too tight to take a proper breath, Jane simply held it as she raised a knee and mounted the desk. Once on, she awkwardly sat back on her heels, trying to keep as much space between them as possible.

"Closer, Jane."

She crawled forward, unable to look Thomas in the face as she neared him. Jane could feel his predatory gaze boring into her and goosebumps rose on her skin. He stood abruptly and buried a hand in the hair at the nape of her neck to gently drag her closer. She hissed at his tight grip but didn't fight him, cursing the electric feel of his skin against hers. It shot heat straight to her core.

"Last night you followed my directions perfectly, sweet girl. Don't you think you deserve a reward?"

Her brows rose with uncertainty and she searched his face for a hint as to how she was supposed to respond. She wasn't sure a reward from him was a good thing. When she remained silent, he fought the urge to roll his eyes and instead released a sigh that implied the girl was highly taxing. Guiding her with his hand in her hair, Thomas gently forced her to sit on her rear with her legs dangling over the side of his desk.

"That's better, isn't it, darling girl?"

Confused, Jane nodded and fidgeted with the belt of her dress.

"Now, then. Your reward," he said slyly as his fingers crept up her bare calves to rest on her knees.

Her breath caught in her lungs as he touched her again, that awful, wonderful, perplexing feeling beginning to build in her lower belly. Jane wasn't a virgin, but this man made her feel like one. Every time his fingers grazed over her skin she shivered, and he made it clear that he noticed.

"Do you like when I touch you?"

His question was pointless; he already knew the answer. Jane offered a one-shouldered shrug in response. This prompted her professor to chuckle, which only made her blush and scowl, crossing her arms over her chest. He lifted her chin with a finger and leaned forward to nip at her earlobe. Thomas slid his hand over her shoulder and down her arm until he held her hand in his. He guided it to the growing bulge in his trousers.

"Watching you pout is making me hard, Jane. Can you feel that?"

He whispered the words against her ear like they were a secret. Her lips parted in surprise and her eyes flicked to his obvious arousal before they returned to his. She gave a jerky nod. His hand squeezed hers, forcing her to cup his erection which made him inhale sharply. Lips still pressed against her skin, he practically growled at her.

"During my lecture I could smell you, my darling little whore. Do you know how difficult it was not to drag you to my office and fuck you until you screamed?"

Jane couldn't hold back a whimper. She felt him smile triumphantly against her cheek.

"So prim and proper, you are. Until I break through that little façade and your innocent school girl act disintegrates. How many know what you really are, my sweet little whore?"

"No one," she whispered, unable to look him in the eye. She was absolutely mortified. How did he know how she'd react to the horrible, dirty things he said to her? The poor girl did her best to ignore the throbbing between her legs, although she couldn't help but unconsciously squeeze her thighs together in an attempt to relieve her growing ache.

"That's my girl," he murmured.

He pressed a chaste kiss against her cheek before his hands returned to her smooth, long legs. Goosebumps peppered her skin as he lifted her skirt, groaning at the lacy, nude panties she wore.

"Lean back."

"But the door—."

"Who is in charge, Jane?"

Her jaw bobbed up and down as she searched for her voice. When she spoke, she surprised herself.

"You are, Sir."

That was not what she was planning to say. She had every intent of telling him to get his hands off her, but some baser version of herself seemed to have usurped her brainpower.

"Good girl. Now, relax," he crooned as he gently pressed a palm against her chest, forcing her to recline.

Hands never leaving her thighs, Thomas sat back in his chair and admired the view. He hooked a finger under the elastic of her underwear and slid it to the side, ignoring her gasp. Lazily he ran his finger along her slit, letting out a huffed laugh when he found her soaking wet.

"I wanted to taste you last night," he murmured to himself, "but my need to be inside you was too great."

The poor girl wasn't sure what he meant until his tongue delved between the lips of her cunt. She cried out in dismay and tried to push him away form her.

"Wha-You can't put your mouth there!"

She managed to keep her voice a whisper, but just barely. He shushed her, blowing warm air against her pussy as he encouraged her to be quiet.

"You've never had a man's mouth here, have you sweet girl?"

"N-no! Of course not!"

The look of self satisfaction on his face made her tremble. He was positively pleased with himself.

"Raise your hands above your head. Good girl. Now, hold onto the edge of my desk. Under no circumstances are you to release it, do you understand?"

"But-Sir—."

"Do you understand?"

Jane nodded, her eyes wide as she watched him settle back between her legs. When he leaned forward he nibbled along her slit her breath audibly hitched and she jerked away from him. He resituated his grip, this time curling an arm around each thigh and holding her open. Her hips rolled as she attempted to evade his mouth, but his grasp on her was too strong. He kept her still as he worked his tongue between her folds. Her body arched and froze. She wasn't sure how she was supposed to react as the tip of his tongue teased her opening, it was warm and wet and how did he know how to do these things? She let out a whimper and could feel her smug professor grinning against her tender flesh.

Languidly he fucked her with his tongue and chuckled as he heard the thunk of her head hitting the back of his desk as her nails dug into the wooden edge. He licked and lapped, avoiding her clit for the first few minutes. Once he was positive from the little sighs and moans she was uttering that she was enjoying herself despite the embarrassment, he spread her open with one hand and took a moment to admire her swollen little pearl. He laved the flat of his tongue over the firm bud, which caused the poor girl to release a choked cry and arch her hips up off the desk, her knuckles white as she fought to maintain her grip.

"S-oh! Sir," she gasped as she tried to corral enough functioning brain cells to tell him to stop. They needed to leave the classroom immediately. Someone was going to catch them... But God did his tongue feel good massaging her clit. And the jerk knew it. He knew he was good at… whatever it was he was doing with his magical oral muscle. To her dismay, his tongue deviated away from her sensitive little pearl and instead he sucked her folds into his mouth. This left her with enough brain power to begin struggling, trying to untangle her legs from his arms. He slammed her hips back down onto the surface of his desk with his palms firmly splayed over her hipbones. With a whimper, she relaxed as his attentions turned back to her clit. When his lips circled around her it and he started suckling firmly, her hands released the edge of the desk and buried themselves in his hair as heat shot through her and she came. Her cunt contracted almost painfully, as if she needed him inside her to come around. She let out a strangled noise as she attempted to silence herself and failed, which prompted Thomas to snicker against her pussy as she came down. Had she more energy, she would've glared and most likely fled, but instead she lay boneless and panting on her professor's large desk.

Jane desperately tried to say something, to tell him to stop—that this was highly inappropriate and needed to end—but all she could manage was a soft grunt, which only served to frustrate her further. Just as she was scrubbing her face with her hand in slight disbelief of the events that had just unfolded, she felt the blunt tip of a cock at her still-pulsing entrance. She let out an indignant cry as she glanced up to see her professor towering over her. He maintained eye contact as he lifted her legs, placing her dainty ankles on his shoulders before roughly shoving into her, giving her no time to adjust before his hips began thrusting fervently. The poor girl was already overstimulated and the angle made her see stars.

She made the mistake of looking up. Thomas' jaw was set and the muscle next to his eye ticked as he drove into her, perspiration forming on his face as he concentrated. When she let out a quiet whimper, he growled and leaned forward, pressing the tops of her thighs against her chest. She let out a squeak as he bent her, but was interrupted when his lips met hers. He kissed her hungrily, pushing his tongue into her mouth and tracing along her teeth. Jane clung to him to keep from sliding backwards from the force he used, and she admitted shamefully to herself that she loved the sound of his skin smacking hers. Pressure built in her lower belly as he continued, whispering filthy things as he took her.

"You're mine, sweet girl. To fuck and to use as I please. Do you like when your professor fucks you on his desk, Jane? Or are you too incoherent to formulate a response? Does my cock feel too good inside you for you to think, darling?" When he was met with a high-pitched noise that came from the back of her throat, he smirked. "That's what I thought. Now, be a good girl and take what I give you."

With that he doubled his speed, the sound of their coupling echoing in the lecture hall as he pounded into her ruthlessly. Jane clapped a hand over her mouth as she came undone, pleasure shooting up from the bottom of her spine and tingling throughout her entire body. Her back arched, pressing her even closer to him as he raged on, thrusting as his head fell back and his fingertips dug into the soft skin of her legs. With a grunt he came, coating the inside of her pulsing pussy with his hot come. He leaned back over her, fighting to catch his breath as he looked upon the girl beneath him. Her eyes were closed, hair was mussed and her cheeks pink, her hands shaking from having held onto him with such gusto. Her entire body trembled as her eyes fluttered open, her blush deepening to find her professor gazing down at her. His expression was still hungry and domineering, but she found it didn't bother her so much in her post-orgasm haze.

Slowly he withdrew and tucked himself back into his pants. He righted her panties, smirking as his come soaked through the material. She reached for a tissue but he gently slapped her hand away.

"No. Go back to your dorm the way you are." He leaned forward to nip at the shell of her ear. "I want them to smell me on you, for them to know exactly who you belong to, little girl."

With a whimper, Jane scrambled into a sitting position and swung her legs over the side of the desk opposite of him and hopped down, searching hurriedly for her bag. She slung it over her shoulder and glanced back at him as she practically ran from the room. Looking immensely satisfied, he stared at her until she was through the door.