Reynolds cleared his throat, introducing the topic we'd be talking about today and going over some announcements, like he did at the start of every class, and a moment later, my phone buzzed.

I swallowed hard, wanting to ignore it … but I couldn't ignore the warmth pooling between my legs. So, I turned the brightness on my phone all the way down and opened the message from Everett's dad.

: I have something for you.

My heart raced, and I drew my knees together. Mr. Williams had something for me.

: Be a good girl and play with yourself back there during my presentation, and maybe I'll give it to you when class is over.

I swallowed hard, staring down at the message. Oh my God. My pussy was already throbbing, aching to have him inside of me again. I felt like a schoolgirl in a fucking porno, seducing the teacher, playing with myself as everyone looked at him, but he only looked at me.

Where would he take me this time? Over this desk when we were finished? In one of the many empty bedrooms at his house? Maybe on his office desk in the middle of the workday while everyone listened.

My cheeks flushed. I typed and retyped my message to him about ten times, unsure about how I should respond to him.

"And no cell phones, Miss Mila." Professor Reynolds stood in front of my desk, arms crossed over his chest, giving me a pointed stare. My cheeks flushed a deeper red, and I parted my lips to say something-anything at all--but he stopped me. "Do you want me to take the extra credit point away from you?"

My eyes widened, and I stuffed my phone into my backpack. "No, sir, sorry." My gaze flickered to Mr. Williams. "It won't happen again. Mr. Williams has my full attention."

After Reynolds introduced Mr. Williams as the CEO of CloseNet Engineering, Mr. Williams placed his phone down on the podium in front of him and started his boring lecture about what an entrepreneur really was and how much work it really took and blah, blah, blah, blah, blah.

All I did was sit there, staring at him from the back of the classroom, with his son right next to me and ground my legs together, needing to feel some type of friction between my thighs.

My eyes closed briefly, and when I reopened them, he was staring right at me, his eyes flickering to my legs.

I crossed my arms over my chest, brows furrowing together, and tugged lightly on my nipples through my bra without drawing Everett's unwanted attention to me.

My lips parted, a rush of pleasure hitting my core. I moved my hips slowly against the chair, just needing Mr. Williams to be inside of me. I hadn't stopped thinking about him since last week.

All I had imagined was his big cock sliding down my throat, sitting on his desk, getting pounded by the CEO of Dad's company.

I gnawed on the inside of my lip and pulled out my phone. I should've been giving Mr. Williams my full attention … but I wanted to have his full attention, and I knew the perfect way to do that.

So, I hid my phone under the desk, scrolled through my private photo album, and chose a picture I had sent Everett a while ago. It was me in a schoolgirl skirt and a tight white tank top.

My nipples were pressed against the material, and everything-I mean, everything-was on full display to him.

After pressing my knees together, I sent the message. His phone buzzed against the hardwood podium. He paused, gazing down at it, and clenched his jaw. His breath hitched, and for a moment, I swore he stumbled over his words.

"There are"-he grasped the top of his tie, tugging on it just enough-"barriers …"

I sucked in a deep breath. All I wanted him to do was step out from behind the podium and show me how hard my picture had made him.

I gazed down at my phone, about to send him another picture, when Professor Reynolds appeared at my desk. I quickly tapped on the home button, my text messages disappearing, and stared up at him with wide eyes.

"Give me the phone, Mila," he said, trying to stay quiet, but the whole class had heard him.

I pressed my lips together, shutting it off so he couldn't go through it, and placed the phone in his hand.

"I'm disappointed in you. Your extra credit has been forfeited."

My eyes widened, and I cursed myself. There went passing this class.

Mr. Williams gave me a small, hidden smirk from the podium, and I slouched down in my seat. He continued his stupid lecture for the next fifteen minutes while I sat in my seat, arms crossed over my chest, panties soaked.

The pressure had dissipated, yet that linger had remained. That linger of a promise. Mr. Williams had something for me, and I had done as he asked. Well, sorta.

By the way he continued to gaze at me with those dark, dangerous eyes … it was enough for that linger to grow until I had the urge to push my hand back under the table again and touch myself in front of everyone for him.

But I didn't. Instead, I sat in my chair like a good girl and tried my hardest to stop thinking all these dirty thoughts about him.

When class was over, I gathered all of my belongings, stuffing them inside my backpack. Everett bashed Professor Reynolds to me for him taking my phone, but I just told Everett I didn't care that it happened and hoped to God he'd leave before his father did.

All the other students the class, but I waited behind as Mr. Williams and Professor Reynolds talked.

I needed that damn phone before anyone went through it. They would find out everything. Everything. All my deepest secrets will be exposed.

Reynolds gazed at me for a long moment, nodding his head to Mr. Williams and then handing him my phone. Reynolds gathered his belongings and walked right out of the room. Everett lingered by the door.

Mr. Williams gazed over at him. "I'll meet you back at the house for dinner," he said. "I need to talk to Miss Mila beforehand about"-he held up my phone-"this. Don't wait up for either of us."

Everett nodded his head and left the room, leaving me alone with Mr. Williams in a deserted college business class. He walked to the front of the desk, leaned against it, and crossed one leg over the other.

I huffed to myself and trudged over to him, trying not to look too excited about this. Because I wasn't. I really, really wasn't. Definitely wasn't.

I stared up at him, gaze lingering on the bulge in the front of his pants.

He held up my phone. "Do you think that the little stunt you pulled was funny?" he asked, brow raised.

"Depends," I said, batting my lashes at him. "Did it make you hard?"

He placed the phone down on the desk, stepped around me, and placed his large hands on my shoulders, squeezing. "Why don't you tell me?" he asked.

Instead of pressing himself against me like I thought he would, he didn't move. Just waited.

So, I reached behind me, placing my hand directly against the front of his pants, and grasped his hard cock through the material.

He curled a hand around the front of my throat and pulled me harshly against him, his lips against my ear.

"How could I not get hard, seeing you dressed in a short miniskirt, nipples pressing against your tank top, begging for me to just tug on them?" He trailed his fingers down my chest and grasped my breast.

He pushed his hips harder against my ass, letting me feel his huge cock. "Watching you press your legs together for the past hour because you couldn't handle the pressure in your tight little cunt."

I sucked in a deep breath, pushing my knees together even more.

"I bet you were wet for me the moment I walked through that door."

I shifted from foot to foot, the ache becoming almost unbearable.

He tugged on my nipple through my shirt and said, "Am I wrong?"

I closed my eyes and shook my head, unable to even mutter the quietest no.

"Good, now … on your knees for me, Mila."

My eyes widened. "But … but anyone could just walk right in."

His lip curled into a smirk. "They could." He pushed me down onto my knees, slid his finger under my chin, and made me gaze up at him. "And they'd see you on your knees with my cock all the way down your throat. Is that a problem?"

I parted my lips, and he pushed his bulge toward me. "Yes, that's a problem," I said.

"Mila, I have enough money to keep them quiet a hundred times over. I have enough resources to destroy their lives-if I didn't want anyone knowing that you belong to me now."

I furrowed my brows. "I belong to you?" I shook my head. "I do not belong to-"

He shoved his cock into my mouth and down my throat. I gagged on his hardness, eyes immediately filling with tears at how much of him had easily slid all the way down my throat. I grasped my neck, feeling it so deep inside of me that I clenched.

"If you're not mine, Mila, why're you on your knees for me? Why do you have my cock down your throat? Why do you keep sending me those dirty little pictures of you?"

I clenched, my pussy throbbing. I opened my mouth wider to respond to him, but all that came out were wet gagging sounds as his cock hit the back of my throat over and over again. I stared up at him through my lashes, spit dripping down my chin and soaking through my shirt.

He shoved himself down my throat, thrusting harder and harder each time. With his hands laced into my hair, he pulled me toward him. I gazed up at him through teary eyes, the silent room filled with my wet gagging sounds.

He slowed down his pace, pulled his cock out of my mouth, wiped his hand over the spit dripping off my chin, and then rubbed it all over my swollen lips and into all of my makeup.

He slapped his cock against my bottom lip a couple times, pushed himself back into me slowly, and smirked down at me.

With his cock pressed against the inside of my cheek, he slapped it lightly. I stared up at him through my lashes.

"God, Mila," he said. "I love ruining you." Another light slap. "I love the power you give me." He chuckled menacingly, slapping the head of his cock through my cheek again. "I don't even have to try. You just dig yourself into a deeper and deeper hole every time I see you."

I sucked on the head of his cock, swirling my tongue around it. I clenched my throbbing core, wanting nothing more than for him to fuck me already.

He slowly pulled himself out of me, and I sucked hard on him. His cock sprang out of my mouth with a loud pop.

He tugged me to my feet, turned me around, shoved me against Professor Reynolds's desk, and plunged a hand into my pants.

He moved his fingers in circles around my clit, and I grasped on to the desk, trying to stop my knees from buckling.

"What would your father think when word gets out that you're failing your business class?"

I parted my lips, brows furrowed together, trying not to moan … because all I fucking wanted to do was scream his name.

"What would he think when he finds out that Professor Reynolds caught you fucking someone on his desk?" He pushed a finger into my pussy, thrusting it in and out of me deliciously.

"What about when I tell him that instead of listening to me talk about business, you decided to send me a whole folder of your naughty little pictures?"

My pussy pulsed, and I grasped on to the table harder, trying to keep my breathing steady.