He paused, reached out to grab my slippery clit between the knuckles of his fore and middle fingers and clamped down hard. My head flew back against the seat a he continued talking, his voice drowning out the minute sounds I tamped down as I rode out my orgasm.
I kept my eyes open and on his as they seared me with a promise, a dirty implied oath to fuck me later with his tongue, teeth and hands but maybe not his cock because I didn’t deserve it after this morning. I wanted to moan but instead, I smiled shakily at him.
He adjusted himself slightly in his uniform pants, leaned back in his seat, stuck his two knuckles in his mouth to suck off my cum, and stood up to walk back to his seat, done with his presentation and with me.
Somehow, I managed to sit through the rest of class without getting up because I knew there was a wet spot on the skirt of my dress. King stayed in his seat until the last person left the classroom after the bell and then finally lifted his head to glare at me.
“Shut up, lock the door and come here. Detention is in session.”
I swallowed thickly but did as I was told. When I’d pulled the curtain down over the door, I stayed there facing it. There was something about his anger that made me feel completely, provocatively, under his control.
“Turn around.”
I did.
“No come’ere,” King ordered, his eyes sparkling with anger.
I’d never seen him angry before. Lust shot through me like Cupid and his stupid bow were watching from the eaves of my classroom.
King watched me shiver and his eyes melted from ice to liquid. He patted the small desktop attached to his seat.
“Come fuckin’ here, Miss Irons,” he repeated.
My eyes shot to the door of the classroom. The door was locked and the little paper curtain was doing its job, but still someone could come by. If they found my door locked they’d wonder why. It wasn’t unheard of, but it certainly warranted an explanation.
“Don’t like repeatin’ myself,” King growled out.
I was walking towards him before I could make the conscious decision not to. My flared skirt was slippery against the laminate wood desktop so I braced my hands on his shoulders as I hopped up. Before I could get settled, King was putting my calves on his shoulders so he had an unobstructed view of my bare pussy.
“You were a bitch today,” King told me harshly. “A bitter shrew I didn’t even recognize. Think it’s time for you to show me some sweet so I remember why it is I put up with you.”
I knew he was angry and that he had a reason to be, but I couldn’t stop the blush of mortification and the prickle of defensive anger that ignited somewhere in the base of my belly and tangled with the lust that was kindled there.
“King,” I tried.
His gaze cut up from between my thighs and sliced into me. “Do it.”
I dropped to my elbows, readjusting myself so I didn’t fall of the small table and delicately pulled my skirt up over my groin. His eyes marked each minute movement of my fingers as they crawled down my naked folds.
“You’re wet already,” he told me.
He didn’t have to.
I overflowed like a river in spring, my fingers running laps in the current.
“Show me,” he ordered.
I spread my lips open for he could see the depth of my depravity. He could make my pussy glisten for him just by being a badass biker asshole. I didn’t know if it said good things about me, but I didn’t care.
“Fuckin’ gorgeous,” he said before he reached out to run two fingers down my slit.
My eyes fell to half-mast and stayed there, weighed by the image of King sitting between my legs like a proprietor evaluating his goods. He was so sexy he didn’t seem real. His golden curls were pushed back from his face in a sloppy man bun, a few curls springing out to rest of his ears and in his heartbreaker face. Every time he touched me with his eyes, lips or hands I felt absurdly awed, as if it was a fallen angel that sat between my thighs and not just a man.
He leaned forward to rest his cheek on my inner thigh, his gruff voice abrading the tender skin as he said, “Get yourself ready for my cock.”
My fingers dipped into the well of ink and scrolled over my shiny folds, drawing a flourish over my clit. I felt free and powerful spread out for him, showcasing my wares to their best advantage so that he would want to take advantage of them.
His hot breath brushed my sensitive skin but it was the feel of his eyes on me as I dipped two then two fingers inside myself that made my back arch off the table. The movement lifted my pussy closer to him and I heard him drag in a deep drag of my scent.