Page 53 of Self Studies

He spanked me hard. The sound echoed in the dome. I squealed and jerked my hips forward. Tendrils of cold magic snaked around my thighs, pulling up my skirt and urging my hips back toward him. He moved my panties aside to slide a single finger into me. I withered in his grip.

“Try again,” Saffron said, so low I almost missed it.

I knew he wanted to hear his name, but I wouldn’t give it to him. “Magic.”

Cold wedged itself between my thighs. I spread even more at its bidding. The tendrils whispered across my butt and curled around my opening without touching. I moaned and thrust backward on his finger, looking for the ridged dick he still denied me.

“God damn.” Saffron let go of my wrists.

The tip of his thick cock pressed into my opening. I tried to back onto it, but Saffron shifted, so it ground hard against my clit instead. Half his palm hit flesh this time, and the slap against my ass echoed even louder through the dome.

“Who’s taking care of you now?” Saffron growled.

Although tempted to say ‘Beryl’ again, Saffron’s cold tendrils of power chose that moment to press into my sex while my clit slid back and forth on his erection. Saffron’s name became a drawn-out moan as my entire body spasmed with pleasure. I tried to turn, but he stopped me, pulling my hips toward him and pushing my upper body harder against the wall.

His thick tip teased my opening before he thrust, parting my folds and filling me with exactly what I needed. My magic sang. I bottomed out against his flat abdomen and moaned.

“Fuck me,” Saffron growled.

With one of his hands on either of my hips, I braced myself against the wall. He pulled as far out as he could get and filled me hard. Once, twice. With his magic pulsing against my already worked-up clit, my climax squeezed his erection on his third thrust. I screamed, bowing further. He drilled into my spasming folds until he joined me, swelling with a guttural release of tension which echoed off the walls.

He slapped my ass once more before pulling out of me. All at once, his cold tendrils of magic left my skin. My undergarment slid back into place before his juices could slide down my leg. The sound of someone dropping to the ground and Professor Garnet’s grunt of pleasure confused me.

Still breathing hard, I attempted to straighten my clothing and turned. I’d not noticed the professor move closer, but he was out of arm's reach. Pants around his ankles, his eyes rolled up in his head as Saffron’s skilled tongue wrapped around his glistening tip. Saffron sucked his lover’s throbbing cock into his mouth and down his throat.

Despite still recovering from my orgasm, Professor Garnet’s moan rekindled the fire in my core. He fisted Saffron’s blond locks and started thrusting his hips.

I flushed. Quickly and quietly, so as not to disturb the two, I turned and fled the building.

My eyebrow furrowed, remembering my heavy bag. Luckily, my locker was above Saffron's. With an effort, I managed to get the straps around my shoulders and hunched forward. With my legs shaking from more than the weight of the bookbag, I scanned my map and stumbled toward my final class of the day.

Guilt and regret burned in my gut as I walked. I shouldn’t have pressed Professor Garnet, even if it had forced Saffron’s action.

My body throbbed with the force of our angry fuck. I’d loved every minute of it, which only made my guilt worse. I needed to figure out what was wrong with me. I brushed my fingers across my socket. If Damon found a way to alter my magic to work with technology, maybe he’d found a way to mess with my very essence.

I shuddered.

It wasn’t the act of transferring magic which set my primal needs on fire. Any magic touching my system drowned me in lust. Something wasn’t right.

Chapter 8

I was unbelievably grateful to find Roisin at the entrance to one of the long, low buildings.

“I hate Mercedes,” Roisin said, as the two of us lifted my unnaturally heavy bag into another locker inside the building. “I mean, she’s Saffron’s childhood sweetheart and an adult. She shouldn’t be this insecure.”

“I didn’t know that,” I said, my guilt doubling.

“I hate it more I can’t do anything to help you. Stupid Aptitudes and stupid Dealership,” Roisin continued, stomping around like a bull.

I let her rant distract me while I changed out for General Sports. I thanked the underpants gods my uniform came with a clean pair for obvious reasons.

We looked to be the last two to join the class. My already exhausted legs wobbled as we ran toward rows and columns of students lined up in front of the Institute. Roisin peeled off and found her spot, leaving me awkwardly standing at the front.

I pulled on my braid and looked for a teacher.

Spaced about two feet apart, rows of men and women stood and chatted. The male uniforms sported baggy black shorts, while the female wore black spandex but were otherwise the same: white tank tops, white socks, and gray trainers. Movement caught my eye. Saffron, also dressed for GS, ran up to a woman in a gray tracksuit. The woman didn’t look up from her phone as she accepted a familiar piece of paper, pink slip attached.

Saffron stepped into a spot right in the front. He gave fists bumps to two of the guys I’d seen him eating with at breakfast. Although not quite as good-looking as Saffron, sculpted muscles still stuck out of their clothing, and they stood with a similar relaxed stance.

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