Page 80 of Self Studies

I wanted this. I’d sought this the minute I saw the professor in my very first class. He’d saved me from the fear multiplier. He’d fought to keep me out of my advisor's grip. We’d both lived through the same abuse and came out of it broken but stronger.

He wrapped his arms around me, kissing me with the same need. Fire lit my core. A hand ran up my neck, and he cupped the back of my head. His tongue rushed into my mouth, deepening our kiss. Heat throbbed in my abdomen. I shifted, so I straddled his hips and ground into his stiff erection.

He unbuttoned the top of my shirt and rubbed my collar bones before running his fingers through my buzzed hair. The reminder brought me back to reality. I pulled away, unsure how I was keeping my magic at bay.

I started to speak, but Professor Garnet placed a finger against my lips. “I’m not a good person. You stole my heart the minute you touched me in my class. It took more self-control than I knew I had to watch Saffron eat you out instead of doing it myself.” His other hand began tracing my spine. “I thought it was the transfer. But even after your magic was long gone, you still filled my thoughts. I won’t lie to you. I crave your magic. When I close my eyes, I can feel it surging through me. The potency of it makes me shake with need. But you’re learning control.”

He leaned forward and crushed my mouth. Fierce, possessive need stole my breath. My clit buzzed as his cock rubbed against it. Breathing hard, he released me, still slowly gyrating.

“I tried to treat you like any other student,” he continued. “It kills me to watch what you’re going through, but I can’t shelter you from it. We only grow through experiences, the good and the bad.”

He kissed my neck. “Director Fleming can blame whomever she needs to. Even if you reject me now, I will defend you from Advisor Crowe or any single person who tries to take away your opportunity to experience life.”

A stupid fucking tear dripped down my cheek. I wasn’t alone. Professor Garnet understood everything too well. I filled my hands with his mop of hair and tried to merge our very bodies. He untucked my shirt, pressing his hands against my bare skin.

I pulled back from our kiss and looked into his hazy red-rimmed eyes; our matching need reflected in each other’s gaze. Whatever control I’d managed to find abandoned me. My magic flowed into him. The sweet tension of a transfer took over my thoughts. Every nerve in my body lit on fire as my magic kissed his.

My wrists burned with exquisite pain.

The professor cupped my cheek, his eyes wild with heat and fear. “Aphy, stop.” He shook, the blood draining out of his face. “The clasps. You’ll lose your hands.”

As he said it, my hands twitched, the pain suddenly not so pleasurable.

“We both want this,” I said dumbly.

His face hardened. “Not. Like. This.”

He captured my lips with violent need before pushing me off his lap. The moment we lost skin contact, my transfer cut off. And so did the pain in my wrists. I caught myself on the bench. It’s smooth swinging motion jerked.

The smell of charred flesh made me look down at the clasps, still glowing orange from the heat. Weeping red blisters burned and popped around them. I would’ve screamed, but numbness had already replaced the pain as the healing runes did their work.

My skin knitted back together before my eyes. The magic pulled at my core, only adding to my building need for release.

As the process finished, I looked up at Professor Garnet. Crystal and rainbow magic sizzled in his hair, spiking it like a porcupine. I wanted to run my hands over his corded chest, now deliciously swollen with my magic.

I held back. I had too. If I touched him again, I might transfer. The professor wasn’t exaggerating when he said I might lose my hands.

His gaze focused on my wrists. “Those are MA standard issue, and they’re no joke.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I should’ve been more careful. You’re joining Saffron’s harem tonight.” He stood, flexing; anger filled his voice. “Until you have control, we can’t do this again. I can’t do this again. I can’t be a part of the cycle.”

I looked down at his clenched fists. Tiny sparks of refracted light danced around his white knuckles. I hated how much I loved seeing it.

“Why did you accept my magic when I lost control in the Sphérique?” I asked.

His posture slumped. “Because you were crying out for help. And I want to help you.” He looked at me like he had more to say, but shook his head. “You’re defenseless. Completely defenseless. The students who haven’t already realized it will know it the minute they see your clasps.”

I rubbed the clasp on my left wrist. Although it didn’t hurt, the prickling inside pulled on my skin, distracting me from my throbbing clit.

“I’m not joining Saffron’s harem. I need to learn my own lessons, right?” I said as my brain fought to keep up with the Professor’s mood swings. “Damon.” I swallowed. “Damon told me never to ask for help, but if I’d questioned Advisor Crowe from the start….I made this worse. I can fix it.”

I dropped my gaze.

“Stop.” Professor Garnet shook his head. “You didn’t make anything worse. You’re learning. The Institute is here so people can learn; it’s a second chance. I know it’s hard to see, but I will tell you over and over until you believe it.” Professor Garnet took a deep breath. “I was under the assumption you enjoyed Saffron’s company.”

I enjoy Saffron’s dick.

“Saffron doesn’t like me,” I said out loud. “I’m messing up his life. He loves you. He would do anything for you. Don’t make him do this.”

Professor Garnet went quiet.

---