Page 37 of My Summer Girl

Chapter Fifteen

Dulce

Mala Mía - Maluma

My fingers tremble as Nyxie guides me to the room. The random outfit sitting outside the room had me wondering what the change was for.

“What’s that?” Nyxie asks, eyeing my outfit. I look down and back up and then at them.

“Not sure, it was placed outside my door. Fit the theme though.”

Their eyes narrow, but there’s no argument. Instead, they give a brief nod and lead me to where Vex will be waiting, sitting at a fake desk, grading papers.

“Ms. Amor, it’s been brought to my attention that you have turned in three papers, and not a single one was written by you.”

I swallow, the shame slicing through me, even though it’s not real. My face flames as I tiptoe into the room. It’s darker than normal and the onlookers are almost faceless, too dark to discern who they are.

The only sound around us is my heartbeats, the heavy breathing of the crowd, and the noises each of my footsteps brings.

“Anything to say?” Vex grumbles, acting the ever-strict and upset professor. Their Dom nature is one that hits deeply for me. It’s sewn into my very essence as they methodically plan my every move.

Thinking of the story I wrote down, I smirk, then hide it so Vex doesn’t see. “Sir,” I start, walking more confidently, “I’m unsure what you mean. I wrote every topic in these.”

“Really?” they ask with a stoic expression, a lilt to their tone. “It’s Professor Asher, Ms. Amor. Refer to me as such.” It takes all my willpower to stop the curve to my lips. They don’t wait for me to correct my slip of Sir. It’s what I call them in scenes and I nearly forgot the script. “Tell me what the subjects are. I’ve heard you trade favors for assignment completion.”

My heart hammers as if I’m the actual one under ridicule, as if this isn’t a scene, and my thighs shake a little as arousal pools in my stomach.

“I don’t know where you’ve gotten your information, Professor. I’m a good girl.”

They finally pay me attention, their eyes meeting mine. There’s this cruel, taunting expression they wear, like they know all my secrets and no matter how much I lie, I won’t be getting away with it.

Standing, they set the papers and pen they were holding down. Walking around their desk, they pause, leaning against the front of it.

“Come here, Ms. Amor.” I stall and they fold their arms over their chest in response. “I won’t ask again.”

That command, the deepness of their tone, is enough to draw me nearer with both fear and anticipation. I step closer, swallowing the worry, and my body swarms with anticipation.

Once I’m a foot in front of them, their arms drop, reaching for me. “I’ll make you a deal.” Their heady posh accent rumbles through me as if they’re speaking directly to my clit. It throbs, desire and need coursing through me.

“What deal?” I whisper, my voice so small and filled to the brim with lust. Batting my eyelashes at them, I suck in a breath as their finger tilts my chin upward.

“You take your punishment delivered by my hand, and if you’re a good girl, I’ll give you an A.”

I suck in a breath, wishing I didn’t ask for no sex. With their expression right now and their desire saturating each word, I’d let them defile me for all to see and beg for more.

“Okay,” I sigh as their hand cups my throat. “I’ll do whatever you want, Sir. But please don’t tell my parents.”

“It’s Professor Asher,” they correct again, tsking at my slip. The shame of it slithers across me, promising me of punishment. One I’ll take in kind.

Their amethyst eyes are pools of liquid sex, dark and depraved, almost viscerally molten. “First, you need to undress. Then lean over my desk so I can see that wet cunt.” I hiss as their hands slide down my body, cupping my sex. “I bet beneath this flimsy piece of material you’re a mess. Filthy and wet.”

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