Page 29 of Lessons with the Mothman

"Hmm, I suppose that interferes with the veracity of the essay as well. A few more points off."

I huffed out a laugh, but it strangled into a moan as he added a second finger. "That's not-not fair," I said, flushing at the whine in the words.

"Miss Dempsey, I've already offered you the opportunity of extra credit. It doesn't come with a guarantee of full marks," Elias said, smile hitching in the corner as his touch reached deeper, his thumb lifting to rub over my clit. "This angle is wrong, isn't it? I should have you in my lap."

I swayed forward, wanting thatnow, to crawl into his lap, have his arms around me, acting as my own touch. I didn't need to get off. It would be nice to be held.

"Circle your hips as you've written here, Miss Dempsey."

It was hard with my perch on the desk, but I lifted and rocked my hips into his fingers, drawing him deeper, gasping for air, savoring the heady warmth that built in answer. My body was tensing, too aware of his stare, of the expectation of what that building heat might turn into, and I tried to wrestle back the tension, to curve into familiar softness. Elias's touch slowed, the pinch on my breast softening, thumb passing lazily over my clit. My eyes were squeezed shut, cheek tucked toward my shoulder, breaths short and quick, and he stopped the pumping motion inside of me.

"Well, it's an adequate essay," Elias said, and my eyes blinked open. "But I'm not inclined to recover your grades for 'adequate,' Miss Dempsey."

He'd stopped.

His touch was lodged inside of me, the other hand on my naked breast, and he'd stopped. I found his stare once more, gasping as his fingers curled in my core before drawing free.

He stepped back, releasing me, and then sat down in his desk chair, eyes sliding down to my sex.

"How would you feel about an additional exam?" he asked, heavy lashes batting slowly before lifting to meet my gaze, his hand landing in his lap and the two slick fingers that had been inside of me squeezing over a thick ridge of arousal. "This one would be oral."

CHAPTER 11

Elias

She'd been so close!I wanted to shout. Closer perhaps than even she realized. And then she'd started to tense and shrink.

She relaxed now, a broad smile stretching over her lips, that rare glitter of laughter teasing me in her gaze. "Oh, Professor,anythingto get my grade back up," she said, tilting her head coquettishly.

She didn't need to be coy. I'd been hard ever since I'd had her bowed in my grasp, crying out in the pleasure of being possessed with a brutal grip on her pussy. I wasn't normally interested in rough sex, but this was something different, something I wanted to study and dissect. But to do so, I needed Victoria's trust, and we weren't there yet.

She slid off the desk, shrugging the shoulders of her shirt back up but leaving the buttons undone, just the edge of one dark peach nipple visible.

"What's the grading criteria for this exam exactly?" she asked, still smiling.

This was what Khell and Sunny referred to as "playing." Their sexual escapades, regardless of intensity or tone, alwaysseemed to have an element of joy to them, according to the orc. Victoria had entered this staged classroom, nervous and reserved. It had been backing out of touching her that had opened this new ease. Which meant it had been the right choice, no matterhow badlyI'd wanted to take her apart, unraveling her tension and proving her wrong. She could orgasm.She would.

I could be patient.

"Just do as I say, Miss Dempsey. You want to please me, don't you?"

Victoria's eyes lit up, cheeks flushing. "Of course, Professor." Her hand covered mine as she lowered to her knees, pressing down as if she were bracing herself against my hard cock. I grunted, bucking into the touch.

Apparently, I liked pressure too. Or I was simply triumphant in the moment. Her hand studied me through the fabric of my trousers, gaze bouncing between my eyes and my lap as she mapped my cock in gentle squeezes and strokes.

"Have you ever seen a moth fae's cock before, Miss Dempsey?" I asked, knowing perfectly well she wouldn't have. I was the only one of my kind in the city. Chicago's endless winters didn't suit our wings, but I liked the challenge.

"No, Professor," she murmured, leaning in and breathing deeply. I held my breath, eyes wide as Victoria's lashes fluttered shut, her cheek landing next to her hand, rubbing over my crotch, face turning to nuzzle. A low sound thrummed in my chest as she scooted closer. Was this part of this story we were weaving, or was it a revelation about the reserved and cool woman I'd be learning? I lifted my hips once more, and her lips curled and then parted. Her breath sank through the fabric, moist and hot against the base of my cock, making it twitch in protest against the zipper.

"Don't stop," I rasped, reaching for my belt.

"Let me," she said, the tease of her mouth muffled through fabric until she opened wider and stretched her teeth over my balls, faintly scraping, firm and perfectly dulled.

I cursed, and her hands raised, batting mine away, deft and practiced with the belt. She was heating my skin through the wool, pressing her nose side to side, stroking me, all too dull, all wonderfully dense. Riotous red curls framed pale hands, deft and quick as they pulled a button loose, teasing and scratching over the zipper. A damp touch, fiercely hot, burned through my pants and against my length, and I realized she was tonguing me through the fabric.

"Don't waste your tongue on wool, Miss Dempsey," I hissed, shifting, trying to climb my way out of my trousers, to get closer to her.

"Are you grading for efficiency or effect?" Victoria asked, her voice bright and clear, her head lifting enough to share a glance glittering with humor.

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