Naughty Teacher

For three days a week you sat at the back of his class. For three torturous days a week...how you've managed it so far you don't know. But being at the back of the class did have its perks. You could get away with looking at him more closely than what those at the front could. If he ever caught you, you could just say you were looking at something else.

He walks in front of the chalk board, a ruler in hand to point to things on the bored. Hmm, he could do a lot more with that ruler… You shake your head to quickly dislodge the thoughts forming in your mind. Not here…later on tonight those thoughts would be welcomed; but not now.

Instead you study him once more, committing every inch of his body to memory. His skin is pale, so very pale yet flawless even in the harsh florescent lighting. Damon's eyes flicker over the class in front of him, his gaze landing on his unfortunate victims… You wouldn't mind being a victim. His tongue caresses the words in a soft English accent as he asks more questions about the Civil War. He sits on the edge of a wooden desk, legs crossed at his ankles, one arm resting easily on his thigh. The black shirt he wears matches his hair, sculpted and perfect… And his black jeans… Pictures of when he leant over in front of you to help another student flash through your mind… Stupid fucking pants; you'd give your left arm just to be them for one day.

At the front of the class Damon clears his throat. Startled from your reverie, you lock eyes with his midnight orbs. "I'll repeat again, shall I?" Damon says clearly though you can tell he's slight irritated. "What personal tragedy struck President Jefferson Davis and his wife, Varina, on April 30, 1864?"

You knew you should know this. You'd only covered it a few days ago. But locked in his ebony eyes, your mind goes blank. You shrug your shoulders meekly.

Damon's smile becomes strained and you know he's holding back the urge to roll his eyes. "Wait behind at the end of class," he states before asking the question to a geeky boy in the middle row.

A thrill runs through you at the thought of being able to be around him when no one else is there. Maybe staying behind would be worth it in the long run.

Apart from that, the class runs smoothly without Damon asking you any other questions. For that you're glad. You can spend more time thinking about the inevitable detention at the end of the lesson. Never before have you wished away your time to 3:35 so much…and to actually stay in school.

Five minutes before the end of the lesson, Damon gestures for everyone to pack up. The sound of shuffling paper, zips being pulled shut and chairs clinking fills the room. Minutes later everyone is out of their seat chatting. But you stay where you are.

You discreetly watch him out of your eye corner. Damon reaches for his own jacket, laying it over the top of his desk. He checks his pockets and fishes out his phone – a white iPhone – and quickly checks something on it. Damon smiles his 300-kilowhatt smile before putting the phone away. As he leans over to switch his lap top off, a few dark strands of hair fall into his eyes…

Neither of you flinch when the bell signals the end of the day.

Everybody rushes towards the door, a few of the nerds shouting "bye" over their shoulders. When the last person (the boy who answered your question) leaves, does Damon finally look at you.

"I see you were in a world of your own?" asks Damon with one perfect eyebrow raised. His voice lulls you as you stand to go towards him.

"I wouldn't say that," you say as you take another step towards him. "Distracted seems to be more appropriate." Your right hand trails across the smooth surface of one of the tables as you saunter towards him. "And that's your fault not mine."

Beneath that pale pallor, you can see the faintest of red glossing his cheeks. A blush? No, it's probably not a blush. Desire, maybe? You hope it's the latter. After all, Damon doesn't fit the blushing type. His dark eyes remain fixed on your face while a wicked gleam fills them. "I can assure you, I didn't mean to. I didn't know I had such an effect on people." He continues to look into your eyes and you feel a calming sensation sweep through you.

Now it's your turn to raise your eyebrows at his comment. Surely he knows? "What about my punishment?" you ask, and your voice is unexpectedly husky.

Damon clears his throat before shrugging his shoulders. His gaze wonders to over your neck and you catch a glimpse of…(of hunger?) in his midnight coloured eyes. He swallows thickly and you see the same glint of hunger in his eyes. "We can decide that later," he says softly. Were they just fangs that you saw? "I think it would be best if you leave for now."

You shake your head. Damon's conflicted. And someone conflicted is so much easier to persuade… "No, I want it now…" You allow your words time to sink in before you move closer. Your hands rest on the desks on either side of you. You look up into his eyes as you speak, "anything you can give me."

He smirks again. And this time you see the length of his canine teeth. They're extended beyond what they should be…and the gleam in his eyes has returned again. "Are you sure about that? You might not like it…" He trails off, his hand raised and gesturing towards the closed door.

"How can I know if I've never tried it?" You raise your hand to the top of his shirt. The first two buttons are undone, exposing his pale chest. You allow your fingers to ghost over the buttons while your nails drag lightly over his flesh.

When he speaks you know for sure that his canine teeth have lengthened… Vampire? Adrenaline and excitement runs though you, each with an undercurrent of barely hinting fear. Only now does all of his warnings sink in. Is it worth it? You know you're playing the devil, if he goes too far then it's game over. But what a nice game it would have been. But dare you play it? The rules are all his, he can make them up as he goes. You just have to play along.

Can you?

Dare you?

"There's no going back." He states but he leaves no option for you to back out. Damon knows he's got you. It's only a matter of time. One glance towards the door (confirming it's closed) and his eyes darken once more. He smirks…and his eyes meet yours.

His hands, colder than ice, run over your shoulders before resting on your collar bone. He gently lifts the fabric of the tie from your chest before removing it. Without breaking eye contact, he unravels your tie and places the fabric on the nearest desk.

In synchronisation you unfasten the others shirt. Each button revealing more and more skin. Your hands are slightly tanned on his flesh and your long nails leave faint white marks on his chest. Damon eases you out of your shirt easily, his eyes drawn to your cleavage and red lacy bra.

Maybe there was a reason you wore red today? At the thought you pulse quickens and you see Damon shake his head in frustration. Is he holding back from biting you? Does the colour remind him of the life source that flows so freely throughout your body?

You push his shirt from his broad shoulders and it floats to the ground gracefully. Your fingertips grace over his arms and the contour planes of his chest, dipping and rising subtly. "You don't know what you do to me… All this time you've been stood up there, oblivious to me…"

"Not as oblivious as you may think," he murmurs and your blood heats to one-hundred degrees. Damon's hands rest loosely on your hips, his fingers flexing every few seconds. "I've wanted you from the first time you stood in my class. You were stood at the front, your cautious eyes wide and your lips parted with the ghosts of your breath… How could I not be affected?"

"There aren't even words for what you've done to me," you murmur with a shake of your head. "They wouldn't do my feelings any justice."

Damon didn't miss a beat with his reply.

"Then show me."

As if he's freed you from unknown restraints, your hands move in a flurry of actions. With a clank his belt buckle unfastens beneath your touch and soon it joins your tie. Those jeans you've been so jealous of are now just underneath your fingertips…and with an almost feral snarl you pull the soft fabric from his body until they pool around his ankles. When you reach for his black boxers (how could boxers be so fucking sexy?) Damon stops you with a growl.

Without another word he moves away from you, pushes the jeans to one side, grabs your abandoned tie, and moves over to his own desk. Obediently, you follow. With a swipe of his arm, he clears the desk. "There's still a matter of your punishment."

At his demanding, dominant tone, heat pools in your groin. Damon gestures for you to stand in front of him. "I want your hands out in front of you." You comply and he secures them with the tie. With a hand on the small of your back, he pushes you forward so your breasts press against the desk top. His hand trails up over your bra strap as if he's toying with the idea of freeing your breasts. Damon decides against it.

Instead he reaches over you and grasps a ruler. Out of your eye corner your see the length of wood resting in your palm. Again your pulse quickens. A tingling feeling fills your stomach at the thought of what's going to happen. Not once have you thought of how erotic a spanking session could be… How have you never thought of this before?

"Are you ready?" His words are thick with his British accent. A quick glace over your shoulder reveals his eyes as dark as an oil slick, his hair in his eyes and his naked chest rising and falling steadily; and a tented arousal in his boxers. Fuck this is hot…

Your thoughts are cut off when a slapping sound fills the room. Moments later pain blossoms over your cheeks and you can't help but cry out at the shock. Only now do you realise that Damon has pushed your pleated skirt up to your hips and your underwear is around your ankles. He's using you and you know it. You knew it wouldn't be romantic – just a quick fuck – but he isn't even undressing you. There's no pretence of a loving scenario. And you're going to allow it to happen…

Another slap fills the air but this time you don't cry out. You're ready for it. Damon's rough voice (thick with desire) follows after the hit. "What are you here for?"

For a moment you decide to play with him. How foolish of you. "Because I want you to fuck me; you've been in my dreams for months."

Another hit, harder than the others, causes fresh waves of pain. A feral growl fills the room and you know you're playing with a vampire: a cursed being. But the fear is overridden by pure white hot desire. You need him more that you've ever needed anyone before. "Don't mess with me!" There's another hit before he speaks again. "I asked you, what are you here for?"

"Because I was daydreaming so I couldn't answer your question." You say, biting your lip when his hand presses into the small of your back, preventing you from squirming on the polished desk top. Damon moves behind you and you feel his erection pressing into the curve of your ass.

"You have such a nice ass. Worthy of a good spanking," he states. In the window at the back of the class you can see your own reflection. Your face is flushed and your lips are parted and damp with your own saliva. Your eyes are wide and you can't help but wondering if this is what they looked like when you first saw him: shocked, laced with fear but ruled with desire. Your hair forms a curtain over one side your face, pushed forward to expose the smooth skin your back. The tie is bright against the darkness of the desk, your hands bound and restrained in front of you. Behind you Damon stands, his face paler than normal, fangs extended and dark eyes filled with lust and the need for your blood.

There's no fear.

There's only desire.

He leans over you, the spanking stopping for a second. Against your arse you can feel his boxer clad erection and you feel yourself becoming wet. Your thighs are shaking with the effort of keeping yourself up right… Suddenly two fingers appear in front of your mouth.

"Suck." Is the only command he gives you. Taking both fingers into your mouth you allow your tongue to trail over them as if they were a mini cock in your mouth. As if to tease him, your massage your lips against knuckles. Your tongue weaves between his fingers, and you can't help the muffled moan at where you think these fingers will go. When Damon removes your fingers, you tighten your mouth around them and your teeth scrape over them. When they are removed from your mouth, a string of saliva connects them to you. it breaks when you can no longer see his fingers.

Another slap fills the air and you move forward on the desk with the force of it. Never again will you be able to look at a ruler in the same way.

Wet fingers trail over the cleft of your buttocks. They ghost over your cheeks, cooling your aching red skin. You gasp as the circle your dark hole. No one has ever touched you there, not even when you've been pleasuring yourself. Never has any thought entered your head about this. But you find your words lodged in your throat…

Damon doesn't speak to you. Instead he pushes one digit into your body. Your gasp is the only thing that fills the air. It feels so different…but so erotic at the same time. His finger curls inside you and you gasp once more. Every possible sensation if heightened at the new feelings. It's like your first time all over again. Your nerves are alight with fire and your legs are trembling with the effort to keep upright.

"Fuck, you're so tight. So untouched." His finger continues to search your virgin hole. You breathe deeply, willing yourself to relax. Only when you relax some more does he push the second finger into you. Damon's over hand reaches beneath you and pushes your hips up off the desk. His hand unhurriedly searches for your clit. When he finds it you gasp as he gently eases another finger into your wetness. Never before have you been so wet and he's barely touched you.

His fingers curl in opposite directions, as if to meet each other and the feeling makes you moan out loud. Your breathing becomes shallow as you try to impale yourself further onto his fingers. A sharp tingling feeling begins to spread over your hips and you frantically chase your release. The coil in your stomach begins to tighten even more as he rubs roughly against your clit. When you're on the brink of orgasm, he pulls both of his hands away from you.

In the window you see a disgruntled expression on your face. Only the sound of a foil wrapper tearing is enough to console you. There's a scraping noise and you assume he's opening one of his draws. A small squelching sound follows, closely behind it a sharp hiss of pleasure comes from Damon. You can't see him in your eye corner so you look back to the window for help.

His hand is wrapped around his straining erection and his head his thrown back in pleasure. Damon's hips move slightly to thrust himself into his hand. In the dim reflection of the window you see the lube on the desk.

And then his hands are back on you. He smears more lube around your entrance before his other hands rests under your hips once more. His probing fingers press against your clit, dragging little whimpers of pleasure from your parted lips. With his others hand he spreads your cheeks easily. Damon thrust against your tight, quivering muscle, the tip of his cock brushing it teasingly.

With one rough thrust, Damon sheaths himself in your tight virgin heat. You breathe in deeply at the brief pain but you soon settle and allow yourself to relax again. As if to coax you through the pain, Damon's hand continues to flick your clit, covering the pain with pleasure.

"Fuck, you're so tight," he mutters behind you, his spare hand gripping your right hip in a bruising hold. Damon begins to shallow thrust into you, stimulating you from both areas. You can't help the moans that escape you as he continues his merciless assault on your body…

Heat begins to spread through your hips and coil in your stomach once again. Slapping flesh fills the room along with Damon's groans and your own whimpering, desire filled sounds. Glancing up into the window, you see your own reflection once again. Damon's behind you, eyes a midnight black, and his fangs are descended. His eyes are locked purely on your throat, barely concealed by your hair. You can see your own body moving up against the desk with the force of his thrusts, the mahogany finish cool against your heated skin.

Just as you're on the brink of your orgasm, Damon thrusts hard and burrows himself deeper into you. Just as he does, he leans over you, the hand on your hip pushing your hair forward, and his lips are at your throat. Your fear increases ten-fold but you know there's nothing you can do. You're his…and his alone.

Damon's lips trace up the pale column of your neck, his fangs gently brushing over the delicate skin. He continues to move inside you with only shallow thrusts. But his fingers continue to tease your clit, moving in circular motions.

The heat in your hips and stomach is unbearable...

Beneath his expert tough you can feel yourself coming undone…

Just as you whisper out his name, his fangs sink into the pale blue beneath your skin…

There's no pain at all. Nothing. Instead it intensifies your orgasm. You can feel your blood leaving your body and the slight pull on your skin. Stars fill your vision as you close your eyes, your muscles contracting around both his fingers and his cock. A strange erotic peacefulness flows throughout your body, calming your racing heart. Behind you, Damon shudders and stills, his own climax rocketing through him.

Gently he pulls his fangs from your neck and wipes away the droplets of blood at the surface. Without looking at you he tugs your skirt back down and gestures you to pull your underwear back on. As he moves away from you, he redresses with a supernatural grace and speed. He treats you as if nothing happened.

So you don't look at him. You're movements are stiff as you bend to pick up your forgotten blouse. With a quick tug on your wrists, the tie comes undone. Do if you'd struggled enough, if you'd really wanted to escape…you could have…

Just as you turn around, you see that Damon has cleaned your sweat from his desk and is already sorting the fallen items that he swept from the desk. Everything looks just as it was before you fucked…

Just as you turn, he's suddenly in front of you. His eyes are wide with flecks of grey and blue that you never noticed before. He speaks slowly, telling you to go home, that you were staying back for help on a history assignment…

Moments later, he's gone.

Hey up, I've got to say, I loved writing this as much as I did all the others. I hope you all liked it, I tried to combine as much as the ideas together so I'll have to thank Krystal, 21angle (sorry facial's aren't my thing) and TinyDancer365 (loved the teacher/student idea. It's been playing on my mind for a while now!) like I said, hope you all liked it, I think I've covered all the prompts (if I've missed any, please say!) so if you have any more ideas don't hesitate to say them.

Hope you enjoyed this ;) Please read and review! :D