Page 24 of The Professor's Indecent Obsession

The professor with a reputation for being cold and unreadable. The student who’s been testing his patience all semester by wearing clothes that show off every goddamn delicious curve of her body. And the office hours meeting that turns into anything but professional.

And then there’s the last paragraph, where fictional Callie is spread across my desk, begging me to breed her all over again because she wants to feel full for days.

I close my eyes and inhale slowly. Exhale even slower.

I stand abruptly, paper clenched in my hand, blood already pounding with dark, feral heat.

The hallway outside the lecture hall is mostly quiet, a few voices echoing in the distance. I scan the corridor like a predator searching for prey.

And there she is, leaning against the wall across from the classroom, scrolling on her phone like she didn’t just hand me porn about us as her final assignment.

My pregnant, radiant, utter menace of a fiancée.

She looks up as I approach, a soft smile tugging at her lips. “Read it already?” she asks, voice innocent.

I don’t slow my pace. Don’t blink. Just stalk towards her with single-minded intent.

“You are a filthy little tease,” I growl, the words hot and low.

She shrugs, and her smile widens a little more.

“I just wanted to make sure you still find me attractive,” she says sweetly. “After all, I am about the size of a beached whale these days.”

My snarl is barely restrained. “You’re the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. I’m still just as addicted to you now as I was the first time I saw you. Maybe more.”

I step in close, crowding her against the wall, pressing my palm to the curve of her belly.

She sucks in a soft breath. “Maybe you need to prove it,” she says, her voice little more than a whimper.

I take her hand and drag her down the hall. My office door slams shut behind us. The lock clicks into place. And whatever little restraint I had, disappears completely.

I push her back until she bumps against the edge of the desk, her face flushed, her eyes already hooded with lust.

“You want me to prove it?” I murmur, pressing myself against her.

“Yes,” she gasps, arching her back as I bring one hand up to cup her heavy breast.

“You want me to show you exactly how crazy you make me?”

“God, yes.”

I lift her onto the desk, pushing aside the books and pens and papers that are in the way, and then I’m tugging her panties down her legs, spreading her wide and stepping in between her thighs.

My cock strains against my slacks, aching and ready. But I don’t pull it out. Not yet. Instead, I grind the hard bulge against her pussy, feeling the wet heat of her through my pants.

“Feel that, baby?” I ask, moving my hips slowly, teasing her. “That’s what you do to me. Every single day. I can’t think about anything else. All I want is to bend you over the nearest flat surface and fuck you until you scream.”

She moans, her head falling back, her breath coming in shallow gasps. “Please, Roman.”

“Please what?” I ask, tugging her dress up and over her head, throwing it carelessly on the floor. “Tell me what you want, baby.”

She arches her back, offering her bare breasts to me. “I want you,” she gasps. “Please. Make me come. I’m so wet, Roman.”

I lower my mouth to her nipples, sucking and licking, biting just hard enough to make her cry out. My cock throbs in response, and I can’t hold back any longer. I unzip my pants, freeing my aching cock, and slide it along her slick folds.

“You want this?” I ask, pushing the tip just inside her.

“Yes,” she moans. “Please.”

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