Page 32 of Arrogant Professor

“Roll over. I want to watch when you come all over my cock.”

Elle moved onto her back. Without prompting, she hooked her hands behind her knees and spread her legs wide for me. I hummed with approval.

Smoothing her hair away from her damp forehead, I covered her with my body, driving into her pussy with one thrust. Elle placed her hands on my chest, greedily tracing every straining muscle of my torso. I sucked one of her nipples into my mouth, pinching it with my teeth.

She shattered so perfectly, squeezing my cock with a vise grip. Throwing her head back, she hooked her arms around my shoulders, clinging to me for dear life as pleasure coursed through her.

I followed her over the edge, delivering a few stuttering thrusts before I buried my cock deep in her silky, scorching heat with a groan. When I slumped against Elle, she wrapped her legs around me, clinging like a koala.

“Let’s hear it, Professor,” she said lightly. “Did I get an A in class?”

I chuckled and sucked a kiss to her breast.

“Haven’t decided yet. After breakfast, I think I’ll put you through one more lesson.”

Elle grinned and wiggled her hips, flexing around my cock.

“I’m looking forward to it.”

Chapter 11

Elle

For the rest of the week, I felt like I was walking on air. My body ached with the pleasant soreness of well-used muscles after having so many mind-blowing orgasms with Vincent.

It wasn’t just the sex that had my head in the clouds though. Eating leftover Thai takeout with him for breakfast had felt…domestic. I loved it when he guided my feet into his lap while he checked his email on his laptop. It seemed comforting and natural. I wasn’t used to that level of easy familiarity with another person.

In my family, there had never been this kind of warmth. My father pitted me against my sister—or pitted me against other students—in an effort to toughen me up. Everyone else was competition, and if I didn’t dominate the situation in order to come out on top at all costs, I was a disgrace.

I hesitated to call this thing between me and Vincent love, but it seemed to be developing into…something. There were times when I caught myself daydreaming about the future. After graduation. After college was far behind me. I could envision a gold band on Vincent’s ring finger. I could envision myself calling him my husband instead of my professor.

Or maybe that was just the rush of hormones talking.

On Saturday morning, I tugged a hoodie over my pajamas and trudged to the dining hall with a yawn. Since it was the weekend, Vincent would probably be home. Maybe I’d drop by and surprise him. There was a cute little lingerie boutique in Port Crowne. I smiled at the thought of Vincent seeing me in a brand new lacy red bra.

My fantasy came screeching to a halt as soon as I stepped into the dining hall. It was packed with people—mostly students, but there were parents everywhere, along with professors, clustered in groups, chatting. Blue and white streamers and balloons filled the hall, displaying the school’s colors. A buffet table was bursting with food along one wall—cakes, cookies, and punch. A banner stretched across the width of the room that read: Happy Family Weekend!

Shit. I completely forgot.

Even though my father never made an appearance at Family Weekend, I usually did my best to dodge the event anyway. Seeing other students with their parents, showing off the campus with excitement, was a bitter pill to swallow.

As I turned to leave, a flurry of activity caught my attention at the other end of the room. My father came into view, with Helene beside him. Dean Wilcox escorted them into the hall, introducing professors that groveled as my father passed them by.

“It’s an honor to have you here at our beloved university, Mr. Roche,” Dean Wilcox said. “Your financial contributions to the continuing education of our students are greatly appreciated. Can I interest you in some refreshments?”

“Actually, Franklin, I’m not here on business,” Dad replied.

I whirled on my heel, every muscle tensed and ready to run. I needed to get the hell out of here. Now.

Before I could make my escape, Helene’s syrup-sweet voice rang out, cutting through the buzz of conversation in the hall.

“Giselle! There you are.”

Every head turned to look at me as my sister forged through the crowd and hugged me. I froze. My first reaction was nothing but a shocked what the fuck?

But I knew what this was. A performance for the public. We were the happy family—a rich, doting father and his beautiful, successful daughters, poised to take over his powerhouse firm.

I couldn’t breathe. Helene’s perfume was cloying—practically metallic and bitter. Her silk blouse felt like a spider’s web, smothering me. She kissed my cheek and locked an iron arm around my shoulders.

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