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Aelin smirked from her position in the rear of the classroom, chewing on the top of her pen as she pretended to take notes. It was the first day of classes at Doranelle University, and as the newest teacher in the psychology department she had been assigned to sit in on one of the upper-level seminars to observe.
She understood, of course, that the department wanted to ensure she was comfortable with teaching a more advanced class in her first year and as well-prepared as she could be. After all, in her previous position she had only taught larger introductory lectures. It was perfectly reasonable to observe a class before she went to teach her own that afternoon.
She had been infuriated to learn that the course she would be observing was Professor Whitethorn’s early-morning seminar on cognitive psychology, but she felt she was making the best of it.
She had been off-kilter the day she’d first met him, and she was sure he’d known he was at an advantage with the way he taunted her. She was less certain why she’d snapped and dragged his face down to hers by his stupid tie when they’d run into each other again near the copier, but she’d assumed it was something they would bury and never speak of again.
Then he had found her in her office three days ago, and the smirk he’d worn as he let himself into the room had told her he was absolutely not going to let her forget it. The things he’d done to her—the things he’d made her feel—had only confirmed it.
And so she’d made a decision that she was going to make him as uncomfortable as possible today. It was only fair, really.
She’d woken up extra early to make certain that she was perfectly presentable, dark pencil skirt perfectly paired with a white blouse and hair neatly braided back. A stop by the campus coffee shop had granted her a large iced coffee with a truly obscene amount of whipped cream, and she’d made sure to pack a notebook and one of her favorite pens as well. To anyone else in the department who’d happened to see her, she would be the epitome of professionalism.
Five minutes into the lecture, though, she’d unbuttoned the top two buttons on her blouse, making eye contact with him the entire time.
She was carefully toeing a line; if anyone other than Whitethorn looked back at her, she needed to appear professional. Similarly, she couldn’t actually disrupt his teaching without getting herself into trouble. But she could deliberately purse her lips around her straw as she sipped her coffee, or lean forward and chew on the end of her pen in a performance of concentration.
By the end of the lecture, Whitethorn was looking thoroughly annoyed. Luckily, she’d checked out his ratings on various websites beforehand and this seemed to be par for the course based on the words of his former students. No one else would have to know.
She casually crossed her legs as students began to file out of the room, feigning innocence when irritated green eyes found hers. Instead of saying anything, she took another sip of her coffee, deliberately ensuring some of the whipped cream lingered on her lips before grinning at him.
As the last student left the room, he walked to the door, closing and locking it before openly glaring at her. Perfect. He was exactly where she wanted him.
She met his glare with an innocent smile. “Do we have a problem?”
“Don’t act like you don’t know what you were doing.”
She finally stood, slowly sauntering toward him with swaying hips. “I was paying attention to your overview of cognitive functions, of course. What else could I possibly have been doing?”
He met her by the lectern at the front of the room, hands resting on either side of her and effectively pinning her against it. “I think we both know you didn’t actually write a single thing down. I’ve had a lot of practice watching how students pay attention, and you decidedly were not.”
“Oh, I was paying attention,” she replied, letting her voice drop to a low purr. “I just may not have been paying attention to what you were teaching, per se.”
Before he could say anything she wriggled away from the lectern, flipping their positions and reveling in the fact that his gaze immediately went to her partially-open blouse. His brow was still furrowed with annoyance, but a closer look revealed a pink tinge to the tips of his ears and his chest rising and falling in rapid, shallow breaths. Yes, she had him now.
Or, rather, she was going to have him.
She licked her lips and watched as his eyes tracked the movement, then arched her back slightly as she undid another button of her blouse. The movement allowed the fabric to slip off of her shoulders, revealing an edge of red lace.
He growled, though he was openly staring by this point. “What on earth are you doing, Galathynius?”
She smirked. “I think you said it best. Don’t act like you don’t know.”
Without another word she dropped to her knees, watching as he gripped the edge of the lectern with white-knuckled hands. The position put his belt at roughly eye level, and she immediately got to work on undoing it.
He inhaled sharply as she freed his cock from the fabric that had been restraining it, and she grinned as she wrapped her hand around it, carefully weighing her options.
Given their previous interactions and the fact that he had to know she was looking to even the score, he probably expected her to toss him over a desk and ride him into oblivion. The thought was certainly tempting, but if she wanted to really catch him off guard…
Aelin smirked. She knew what she had to do.
Slowly, she leaned in and let out a slow exhale, lips parting a mere inch away from the head of his cock. When she saw him grip the lectern more firmly with a hissed fuck, she gave herself a point and glanced up at his face. His head was thrown back in a way that she couldn’t quite see his expression, though she imagined it was somewhere between shock and arousal. At least, she hoped it was. She’d have to wait in order to find out.
That was all right, though. She could be patient when she needed to be.
Finally he looked down at her, brow furrowed in confusion but green eyes hazy with lust. Aelin winked back at him before slowly extending her tongue and laving it over the tip of his cock, never once dropping her eye contact with him. His jaw dropped in a sharp intake of breath before he bit his lip, and if she had to guess he was torn between growling at her to get on with it and waiting to see what exactly she would do.
Luckily for him, she didn’t plan to make him wait any longer.
With one final smirk, she slowly lowered her gaze to the cock before her and wrapped her lips around the tip of it, tongue flattening against the underside. She hummed as if pondering her next move, awarding herself another point when he hissed at the sensation before getting properly to work. They didn’t have long, after all.
Aelin gave him absolutely no warning before sucking him further into her mouth, lips descending as far as she could reach. Once there, she paused for a moment of begrudging delight at the way his cock filled her mouth—just as well as it had filled her elsewhere the last time they had met. The thought made her shiver, but she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of hearing her moan, not when she was the one meant to be tormenting him this time.
His hips twitched in reaction, as though he was trying and failing to hold himself completely still, but Aelin was already pulling back. Before long, she was grinning up at him again with the tip of his cock resting against her lower lip as her hand wrapped around its base. A flick of her tongue against the slit earned her a muffled groan, and when she looked at his face he was staring back down at her, teeth gritted and lip red as though he had been biting it.
Good. She had him exactly where she wanted him now, and she pressed her thighs together against a wave of arousal at the knowledge that she had undone him so easily.
Knowing that time was short, she got back to work, gently sucking and working her lips in tandem with her hand. Her free hand slid its way under her own skirt, and she pressed a fingertip over her clit through her panties with a gasp. She couldn’t do much to herself in her current position, but that didn’t matter in the slightest, not when she was already so aroused from the situation alone.
A tug on her braid pulled her off of his cock, and she glared up at him to find him doing his level best to glare back down at her. “What are you doing?” he hissed. “You realize we’re in a classroom, I take it.”
She smirked. “Come on, Whitethorn. Where’s your sense of adventure?”
“If someone sees—”
“You locked the door, didn’t you?”
“The door has a window, Galathynius.”
“And we’re not in plain view of the window. As long as you’re quiet, I don’t see the problem.”
He growled, but finally relaxed his grip on her hair, and for a dizzying moment Aelin mourned the loss of the sensation. She didn’t stop to allow herself to examine the feeling, though; there would be plenty of time for overthinking this later. Instead, she took his cock back into her mouth, sucking and licking in earnest now as she worked to get him off as quickly as she could.
Soon enough, he was tugging at her hair again, this time more gently. She looked up at him as best she could with a mouth full of his cock and lifted an eyebrow, only to find he was staring at the ceiling. “Shit, I—”
Oh. Oh, he was trying to warn her. She wasn’t sure whether to be oddly touched by his consideration or offended that he thought she couldn’t take him coming in her mouth. She supposed it didn’t matter one way or the other right now, though. All that mattered was proving to him exactly what she could take.
Determination renewed, she focused her efforts on the head of his cock, sucking firmly as she moved her hand up and down his shaft. Within moments he let out another muffled groan, hand cupping the back of her head as the taste of him flooded her mouth. She swallowed around him a few times, using her hand to coax the last few drops out of him before neatly tucking his cock back into his pants. A few moments rearranging his clothing and soon enough it would’ve been difficult for anyone else to tell anything had gone on to begin with.
Aelin knew, though. She could see it in the way his fingers still gripped the edge of the lectern, in the pink tinge to his neck and the wildness in his eyes.
It was easy enough to button up her blouse again and straighten her skirt once she stood up, and a quick smoothing of her hand down her braid told her he hadn’t yanked any of her hair out of place. She was as put together as she reasonably could be, though she was sure that her lips would be red and swollen and that she would be wearing a satisfied flush. She was unbelievably wet, too, but her clothes were concealing that readily enough and she could take care of that momentarily.
For now, she simply shot Whitethorn another lazy wink. “You’re welcome.”
Before he could muster the brainpower to reply she was already sauntering out the door, closing it behind herself with a grin and a triumphant sip of the last dregs of her coffee. Yes, that had gone even better than she’d hoped.