Elena is running late to her first class for iHistory and Theory of Folklore and Mythology/i. She's going to make quite an impression on the mysterious new professor in the history department that she's heard all the students gossiping about.
Elena slows down as she approaches the door to the classroom – closed, but thankfully not locked. She opens it quietly, trying not to draw attention to herself. Luckily, Caroline saved her a seat in the packed lecture hall; not so luckily, the seat is in the front row.
Caroline clears her bag off the chair next to her, allowing Elena to sit down. She pulls out a notebook and pen, as the professor continues his lecture on the origins of the vampire in folklore. Elena looks up, and their eyes lock.
He's gorgeous: the epitome of tall, dark, and handsome, in a perfectly tailored black suit and tie.
Elena presses her thighs together and looks back down, writing down what he's saying just to try to keep herself focused. She tugs on the bottom of her skirt, watching him from under her eyelashes as he lectures.
The class passes quickly, Elena rarely looking away from the sharp lines of him in that tailored suit. She starts to pack up her things after he dismisses the class, watching as what seems like half the girls – and a good number of the boys – flock to him to ask their "questions." Caroline dashes off to her next class, and Elena turns to follow her out.
"Miss… Gilbert, is it?" Elena turns around again when his rich voice calls her name. Students surround him, but it feels like they're the only two people in the room. "Please remain; I'd like to address your tardiness."
"Yes, Professor Mikaelson," Elena replies, sitting back down and ignoring the way a few girls glare at her for occupying his attention. She waits, watching him as he answers the other students' questions and bustles them out of the classroom. Until, eventually…
They're alone.
Their eyes meet again. A flash, and the door is locked, and then Elena spread out on his desk on her back, almost before she realizes that he's moved her. "Professor Mikaelson, how iinappropriate/i of you," she says teasingly, even as she pulls him down by his tie and into a kiss.
His hands slide up the insides of her thighs, and he igroans/i into her mouth when he realizes she isn't wearing panties. "Miss Gilbert, I cannot possibly be expected to maintain my composure with such… distractions as you present," he murmurs, and she feels his smile against her lips. She can tell that he's quite enjoying their little game.
Elena smirks, and tells him: "That isn't my name." Then it is her turn to groan as his clever fingers move out from under her skirt.
"Well then, iMrs. Mikaelson/i," her Elijah practically purrs, the expression on his face the same satisfied possessiveness that he always wears whenever he calls her that, despite the fact that they've been married for decades. "Whatever shall I do to address your tardiness and inappropriate attire? Shall I report you to the dean?"
"Oh no, Professor Mikaelson, don't report me, I'll do ianything/i," she murmurs, widening her eyes in her best imitation of a starry-eyed college freshman – one who iisn't/i married to the sexy new professor. She ruins it a bit when she leans up and kisses him again, catching his lip with her fangs – drawing blood.
Elena knows iexactly/i how to drive him wild.
"You are a troublemaker; troublemakers deserve to be punished," he whispers, leaning down to kiss the swell of her breasts peeking out over her low-cut tank top.
"But I'm iyour/i troublemaker," Elena moans, gripping his hair, and spreading her legs, and trying to direct his mouth lower. "So you should ipunish/i me yourself."
"Always, my lovely Elena," he swears, before dropping to his knees before her. Elijah pulls her hips to the very edge of his desk; her skirt rides up, revealing everything to his dark gaze. Elena just leans back, wrapping her thighs around his head as she enjoys her "punishment."
She's definitely appreciating her decision to go back to college again…
