Even he wouldn’t do this.
Some papers rustled as Damien said, “Come in, Mr. Crosby. I had a note about your paper.”
He did do this.
God, he’s an asshole.
I could’ve pulled away.
Ishould’vepulled away.
Damien wasn’t forcing me to suck him off. He wasn’t holding my head down. He wasn’t even touching me.
But I didn’t stop.
Because Damien hadn’t told me to. He hadn’t moved me away. He hadn’t come yet.
Because I wanted to be his good girl.
I was mindless and stupid and greedy and horny.
It was so wrong, but God, it felt so right.
Gripping his thighs, I could feel the muscles clench as my nails dug in. Slow and quiet, I moved, using my lips to squeeze him tight. My tongue twirled against the head, flicking the sensitive bundle of nerves on the underside before I went down to swallow his shaft again.
I tuned out their talking above me, only hearing the muffled hum of it. If my conscience was calling me nasty names, I must’ve tuned that out, too. I hated myself and Damien a little more with each passing second, but I couldn’t stop.
I barely noticed that the buzz of conversation had ended until a door closed.
“Mydepraved angel. Mine. Fuck,” Damien grunted, his fingers spearing back into my hair as he took control and rocked himself deeper to spill down my throat.
When he finished, when I’d swallowed down every spurt of come he had for me, I pushed his chair so hard, it nearly toppled over. I scrambled out from under his desk, tears burning in my eyes and shameful lust coiled deep in the pit of me.
“You asshole,” I snarled.
Damien didn’t look concerned at my insult. He sure as hell didn’t look ashamed.
Leaning back in his chair, his still hard cock stretching proudly up his stomach, he smirked unapologetically as he put his hands behind his head. “I didn’t do anything.”
“You set that up.”
He shrugged, tucking himself away and redoing his pants. “I may have set the meeting.”
“You knew I’d be on my knees when he got here. I can’t believe that you did that.”
Damien stood and circled me, a lion playing with his prey. “Was my hand on your head?”
“No, but—”
“Did I make you keep going?”
“No, you—”
The very tip of Damien’s finger trailed along my shoulder, back, and collarbone as he walked. “I heard an interesting story on the way to my classroom this morning.”
I shook my head, trying to clear the haze so I could follow along with the rapid subject change. “What?”
“A group of guys were talking about a party from a few weeks ago. One was saying he wanted to hit you up but wondered if you and Crosby were still… smashing.”