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temptress-writes · 15 days ago

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Roll Call Part Two

A/N: Hey everyone! Deepest apologies for taking 500 years to post this over here! If you've not read this over on the watty, hello! This is part two of Professorry being a w h o r e.

Content Warnings: coarse language

Sexual Content: Degradation, he's still mean, delayed gratification, oral oral oral, choking in more ways than one, cnc..? they act like him nutting in her is bad but it's not... idk don't look at me, squirting ofc tf, biting, spanking etc, age gap, daddy daddy daddy 18+ always duh. If I missed any, please let me know!

Sorry for any typos this came out a while ago and i cannae be bothered to read through lol

Word Count: 12.4k

***

Oxford University, 1992

"Are you listening?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good girl. What did I just ask you?"

"When was Plato born?"

"That's right," He cooed, his lips wrapping around her clit with a suck. "What's the answer, pretty girl?"

"427 BC?"

He sighed, pulling away with disappointment. She cried out in despair, reaching for him and pouting when he brushed her off.

"You know the rules, Violet."

She whimpered, her eyes wet with desperation.

"Tell me the rules." He pushed.

"If I answer wrong, you stop."

"Mm. And did you give me the correct answer just now?"

God, he was unreal. On his knees before her, his mouth saturated in her wetness. Dripping from his chin, his tongue reaching out to collect the shine.

"No." She whined.

"Pardon?" He cocked a brow, his hands leaving her shaking thighs.

"No, professor."

"You're being very naughty, today." He observed. "When you're serious about your studies, return to me."

"No, I—"

"You heard me." He dismissed, standing and righting his appearance. "Fix your panties."

His eyes were transfixed on the misplaced garment, soft blue and as delicate as her core behind them.

"Please, Harry—"

He shot her a look that stopped her pleas. "I thought I told you not to talk back. You got the answer wrong, so you don't get to come. If you really wanted to make a mess in my mouth, you'd revise better. Now go."

"I'll do better, sir." She spread her legs, actively doing the opposite of what he'd asked her to do. His eye twitched.

"I have a meeting, and you're dripping onto my chair."

She smirked, knowing that he didn't have shit planned for the rest of his day. He never did when he was helping her study. They did this often, this fun little game. And he usually was more lenient. She surmised he wasn't feeling generous today, as usually, he would let her come as many times as he wanted. She attempted to switch gears.

"Are you sure, professor? I know I've been bad but I can make you feel good, can't I?"

"No. If you're struggling to answer simple questions, it seems my teaching methods are lacking and I need to revisit my techniques. I can hardly rectify that with my cock in your mouth."

"Your methods are perfect." She breathed out.

He leaned close, his nose bumping hers. "If that were true, your cunt wouldn't be clenching around nothing right now."

She stood, shaking, righting her panties and fixing her dress. "You're right, sir. I'll spend all night revising your notes."

"Say thank you."

"Thank you." Her response was immediate.

His lip quirked at her submissive nature to him. He was so enthralled with how much she wanted to please him. He wasn't always this mean with her. But fuck if it wasn't fun watching her squirm. Watching her decipher if he meant what he was saying. But she knew he was struggling not to bend her over his desk and take her right then and there.

"Call me when you're done studying." His eyes were soft all of a sudden.

"Why?" She was intrigued, not even thinking twice about questioning him. He surprised her by not reprimanding her behaviour. Instead, he gave her an answer.

"I want to cook for you tonight."

She reared back, staring at his calm demeanour.

"Really? Like at your house?"

He laughed at her expression. "Yes, at my house. Why are you so surprised?"

"I'm just... I wasn't expecting that. Is there a reason?"

"What, I can't cook a meal for my favourite student?"

"I do like to eat."

He laughed. "Good. I'll call you."

She smiled shyly, turning to leave. His hand reached out to grab hers, leaving a kiss on the back of it.

"Vi?"

"Mm?"

"Who are you doing your paper on?"

"Plato. He said that love is a mental disease, and I want to prove him wrong."

His look of pride did not go unmissed. He shook his head to clear his thoughts.

"There will be a quiz tonight, so revise as best as you can."

"Yes, professor." Her legs were shaking, and the neglected space between them wept at the loss of him. She huffed out a breath of annoyance but deep down knew that he would more than make it up to her tonight.

About two hours into her intensive study session, empty cups of coffee and loose papers decorating the expanse of her bedroom floor, her landline rang. She sprang up, rushing to answer it before her flatmate did.

"Hello?" She was breathless post her efforts to keep this relationship a secret. If her flatmate found out that she was fucking one of her professors, it would be disastrous all round.

"It's me." His voice was low.

"I figured."

He chuckled softly. She wondered if she'd ever get used to the sound of it.

"You've been revising?"

"Of course."

"Good girl. Do you like red or white?"

"Red or white what?"

"Wine, Violet."

"Oh, uh... I don't mind. Whatever you like."

"I'd like to have you naked in my bed in an hour."

"An hour?" She squeaked, checking the clock on her wall. As much as the idea was very much ideal to her, the logistic side of her brain worked overtime. She was wearing her lazy clothes, her hair was a mess and her mascara was smudged beyond repair. And she needed to shower. And try to look presentable. While her thoughts were scattered, his, as always when it regarded her in an anywhere near naked state, were on one thing only.

"Mm. Or maybe I'll wait to fuck you tonight. Enjoy our meal, have a glass of wine, and make sure my girl has been studying hard."

"You did mention a quiz."

"Am I still your favourite professor?"

"Always. Especially when help me revise while your head is between my legs."

"Associating pleasure with your studies hones your ability to remember answers. I'm helping you."

"Is that what you did when you were in school?"

He made a small noise of amusement, "Vi, I was hardly focused on getting my cock wet when I was in school."

"I find that hard to believe."

"You're being cheeky. Come here and say it to my face. See how brave you feel."

This was a side of him that she scarcely got to see. The carefree, flirty side. He didn't come out to play often, and she often pondered how much of him was hidden behind that dominant façade.

"I don't have your address."

"Get a pen and paper. Shouldn't be too hard for you, seeing as you've been studying all night."

She allowed a sly remark to roll from her lips but did as she was told. He gave her his address, and she recited it perfectly, black ink swirling onto a shred of paper that she later slipped into the pocket of her oversized leather trench coat.

The cab ride to his home was nerve-racking. She'd dressed slightly differently than usual, shredding her school attire for a little black dress, her makeup nearly undetectable, and her hands shaking. This was new territory for them. Their sexual ventures never veered outside of school grounds. Always behind the closed door of his office after hours, sometimes in his classroom once the building had emptied.

Come to think of it, she'd never even considered what his home life was like. And she wasn't even sure what to expect. Did he like clutter? Did he like things sleek and tucked away? Did he have decorative pillows? Did he care for plants? The man cooked, which was already a good sign. That simple fact aside, she was at a loss.

The cab pulled up outside of his house, a quaint Victorian Townhouse, with lush vines climbing the exterior. The lighting from the windows was warm, much like her favourite sunsets in Naples, gooey and enthralling much like her professor.

He was standing outside, and she wondered if he caught her gawking at his impressive dwelling. He threw her a knowing smile, opening the door for her without a thought.

"Hi," He squeezed her hand. "He take care of you?" He nodded towards the cab driver.

She rolled her eyes, reaching for her wallet. "Yes, of course."

He gently knocked her wallet out of the way, handing the driver a few notes and she twisted her lips, knowing full well it was over the fare. "Thank you."

The cab drove off, and it was then that she realised the severity of the situation. She was too overwhelmed to have a single thought prior, now, a plethora of them swarming in her head. Why was she here? This was past a quick fuck in the janitor's closet between classes. This was more than helping him grade papers in his office while he played his deft fingers between her legs.

They faced each other, suddenly shy and unsure. He made the first move, wrapping his arm around her waist and leading her up the steps to his front door.

"You look pretty." He attempted to compliment her, kicking himself at how poor this attempt had been. Her smile told him that she appreciated the sentiment nonetheless.

As they stepped into the foyer, she was able to take him in fully. A pair of navy pinstriped pants and a freshly ironed eggshell blue shirt. It was only buttoned halfway, allowing the expense of his chest to grace her eyes. His tanned skin was stark against the hue, his chocolate curls off his face after he'd no doubt run his jewelled fingers through it.

She met his eyes and saw him watching her. Waiting. "Sorry?"

"Can I take your coat?" He was amused. Always.

"Oh, thank you." The dated leather felt silly in such a lush space. His house, as he gave her a brief tour, was very him. Warm, broody and eclectic. Collectables from his endless travels, art peppering the walls and nooks alike, busy and cluttered. It gave her a great sense of who he was. She knew being a historian, that he'd be sentimental, but not like this. Every piece had its own story, and he even indulged in a few as he led her to the kitchen.

"You like fish, right?" He rounded the island counter, stirring something on the stovetop.

"Love." She affirmed, still looking around.

He poured two glasses of an expensive-looking Pinot Grigio, sliding one to her on the countertop. The refreshment twinkled and it reminded her of his eyes when he bent down to tie her shoelace in Naples. Mischief and excitement, both.

"A toast?" He raised his glass.

She did the same, her heart racing in her chest.

"To teacher's pets."

She smiled, breaking eye contact. "To favourite professors."

The glasses clinked, and they both sipped, watching each other over the crystal rims. His eyes veered over her body, bound by that little black dress that tested his self-control. He wasn't used to seeing her in something this... tight. He steeled himself for the night ahead, wanting to skip to the part where he was buried inside of her.

He led her into the dining room, two glasses balanced in one hand while the other held hers tightly. The room was quaint. Warm and inviting, bookshelves lined the walls, abundant with old parchments she itched to pick up.

The dining table was set, a bunch of wildflowers encased in an expensive glass vase, a flickering candle balanced on a silver stand. A record crackled in the corner of the room on a vintage turntable. Soft jazz that made her ears prickle with delight. Her chest hummed at the romantic setting, her heart racing further when he pulled out a chair for her. She sat, finally meeting his eyes as he stood beside her, looking at her like he couldn't believe she was there. In his home.

"Are you comfortable?" His voice was low, his eyes twinkling in the candlelight.

"Very." She said, although her nerves were shot. Like the very fibre of her being was dangling on a piece of string.

"Good. I'll dish up."

"Oh," Her brows lifted. "Can I help?"

"I've got it." He smiled, leaving the room to enter the kitchen.

She heard him grab some plates, serve the meal, and bring it to rest on the placemat in front of her. Her sense of smell picked up the delicious aroma and her stomach almost growled. "Wow. Smells amazing."

"Thank you." He sat opposite her. "I hope you like it."

"Do you cook often?"

"Most nights. Do you?"

She wrinkled her nose, "do microwave meals count?"

He laughed softly, picking up his fork and spinning it between his fingers. "I guess it's hard to balance life with school."

"I am the poster child for the poor uni student diet."

He just smiled at her. "I'll cook for you."

"You don't have to do that."

"I want to." He mused. "See if you even like it first."

They dug in, but she was all too aware of his eyes on her. His nature soft, the room romantic and enveloping. A million and one questions formed in her mind but she chose to shelf it. Scared to ruin the moment by questioning what this was. A date? A simple meal at his home? She doubted that he allowed any of his students to see his private space. Fucking her was one thing, but cooking her a meal and promising more was entirely different.

He went to grab the bottle of wine, both of them in need of a top-up. So she was left to look around the room, eyes scanning the cluttered shelves in awe, wanting to ask him about every single trinket and book. Wanting to see inside that complex mind of his. But he was always withdrawn in a sense. He gave her his body with intent, but his mind was always locked away. He never gave her much to work with, and she suspected it was for a good reason.

But as the months had gone by, she found herself wanting more. She wanted to know the ins and outs of him. Did he prefer sunsets or sunrises? How did he spend his Sunday mornings? Lazy in bed with a book or up at dawn to run with the rays of it? Did he enjoy baths? Or favour the brisk simplicity of a shower? How did he wind down?

As if picking up the fact that she was deep in thought, his foot gently nudged hers under the table after he'd returned and topped their glasses up.

"You okay?"

"More than." She sighed, finding it hard to meet his eyes while they bore into hers like that.

"Yeah?" Her answer was more than satisfactory. Like he'd excavated the complex emotion behind them. She was happiest when in his company, no matter what their relationship was. "Me too. I just... I wanted to do something nice for you. I'd hate for you to think I only want one thing from you."

This man's mind was unreal. Like he'd sensed her queries and wanted to ease her mind. How he'd brought it up so effortlessly and without fear astounded her.

"What... what do you want from me?"

"Well, first of all, I am still your professor. I want you to do well. I'd like to think my private tutoring has helped."

"You tell me— you're the one grading my papers."

"I'd say you're exceptional, although I may be biased."

"Because you fuck me?"

"That leads me to my second point: because I care about you."

"School?" Her brows rose, as did her heart rate. As if picking up on this, his hand grasped her thigh under the table, his thumb rubbing soothing circles. For some reason, the intimacy of the gesture was overwhelming.

"It's..." It was his turn to feel nervous, his brevity suddenly stopping short. "It's more than school."

"Harry..."

"I want more with you. More than fucking you. I think about you with anyone else and it haunts me. I see boys looking at you in school and feel murderous."

"Wait... where is this coming from?"

"I have a lot to learn," He pushed on, "about relationships. I haven't been in one for a while. My career is very demanding, as you know. But I know that I want to be with you and I'll do everything in my power to make you happy. I know you're busy with school and I don't want to be a distraction—"

"Harry."

"I'm rambling, I'm sorry."

Her mind was in shambles. "What are you saying, exactly?"

"I want to be yours." His grip tightened on her thigh. "And I want you to be all mine."

"I've been yours for longer than you know."

He smiled, dragging her chair towards his, cupping her cheek, and kissing her deeply. "Don't think this will make me go easy on you."

"Didn't even occur to me." She laughed softly, ducking her head to hide her expression. She was beyond ecstatic. This man before her had been her every thought for longer than she could remember. Long before their connection even bloomed. And it wasn't just the lust she harboured for her professor, it was admiration. And it had grown tenfold with his honesty in this moment. "Will we tell people?"

"I think it best we keep it between us for now. I know it's not ideal but—

"It will give us time to explore this, Harry. I get it. And we would be smart to keep it secret. People are judgy."

He allowed his hand to climb up her thigh, loosening a breath when she spread her legs to let him go higher. To let him do whatever he wanted.

"That and I'd lose my job. You'd probably get kicked out, too."

"Just between us." She stated and he hummed in approval, his eyes darkening on hers. His lips were plump and kissable and she wanted to feel them over every inch of her body.

"Did you study, honey?" His voice was sweeter than the sentiment.

"Yes."

"You're such a good girl. Come sit here." He lightly tapped his lap, and she released a soft whimper at the request.

She did, like always, as she was told. She was rewarded with a soft kiss, his tongue flicking out to meet hers.

"What did Plato believe about the soul?"

"He believed that the soul is trapped in the body."

"And?"

"And that it's trying to break free into the ideal form. He believed in immortality and reincarnation of the soul."

"Mm. My smart girl." Her legs were splayed on either side of his, effectively spreading them so that his hand could explore the place between.

"Oh, fuck." She sighed as his fingers tucked into her panties, finding her soaking for him.

"So wet, Vi. All for me?"

"All for you, sir."

"What has you so worked up, hm?"

"You."

"Why? Tell me."

Always wanting her to indulge in her thoughts a little and share.

"You..." she stopped momentarily when a long finger circled her clit, wet from her. "You want more."

A slow smile grew from him that she felt against her cheek. "You like that? You like that you're mine now?"

"I always have been." She rutted her hips towards his touch.

"And I've always been yours, haven't I? The second I saw you, pretty girl. I was fucked."

"Will you fuck me now?"

"What do you think?" His voice was gruff.

"I know you won't but—"

"Then why ask?"

"Because I've been so good and I'm yours and I want you to make a mess of me."

He groaned into her ear, his resolve so near crumbling. "If I let you get your way now, how will you learn?"

She pouted, a small noise of discontent sounding from her that made his dick throb against her ass.

"Don't whine, pretty girl. You know daddy will be good to you." He allowed a single finger to enter her heat, feeling her warmth contract around him. So fucking needy.

"When?" She pushed back, her legs shaking on either side of his own.

He withdrew his touch and slapped her right where she needed him most, the shock enticing a cry from her. "When you've fucking earned it." He growled.

"Please—"

"Who studied the value of virtue?"

"Fuck, I don't—"

"Think, Violet. We went over this in class last week. Or were you too busy daydreaming about my cock in your needy little cunt?"

She was lightheaded. She couldn't think past his body and the way he made her feel. And he'd wanted more. More of her and them and this taboo affair they'd gotten themselves tangled into. But neither of them would change the indulgence of each other.

"Socrates" she let out breathlessly, not even bothering to mentally fact-check herself.

"Correct. Good girl." His touch continued, her clit stimulated with his thumb while his fingers worked gently against her g-spot. "And what else?"

She moaned, his fingers pulsing inside of her. Her head lulled back against her shoulder. "He favoured the state and viewed it as craftsmanship?"

"Wrong. That was Aristotle." His touch left her as quickly as her hope for an orgasm did. "Do you even want to be fucked?"

"These questions are too hard to answer." She whined pitifully.

"No, Violet." He rasped, his tone laced with disappointment. "They're not. I don't have the patience for your excuses. Or are you saying that I'm a bad professor?"

"No, I would never—"

"So why should I reward you, hm? You don't listen in class. What happened to you wanting to impress me?"

"I want to, daddy." She was near hysterics, her hips grinding against nothing, so so desperate.

"Shh," he soothed, finally taking pity on her shaking form. "Take a breath. It's okay."

"I'm sorry, I wanna be good, I can't think when you're touching me like this."

"You need something else to focus on, sweet girl?"

"Yes," she breathed out, hoping he'd provide the perfect distraction.

He stood, helping her do the same on her shaky legs. He picked up his glass of wine and polished it off, smiling softly when she did the same. "Follow me."

He took her to his front room, the fireplace alive and hungry, glowing embers being devoured by ravenous flames. The record in the last room still spinning, much like her head was.

Gesturing to a couple of arm chairs, she sat down and made herself comfortable. He laid down a chess board on the small table between them and she met his eyes.

"I'm horrible at chess." She informed, hoping he'd back out of whatever insanity he was conjuring up.

"I'll go easy on you."

Her expression melted into one of doubt, of apprehension. He saw it, always picking up on her emotions, sometimes well before she did.

He tapped his fucking thigh again. "I can help you better if you're here."

"That will distract me more."

He gave her a soft smirk, "I wasn't asking."

He had her there, and she knew better than to disobey him. She'd already felt like she'd let him down by answering a couple of questions wrong today. Perhaps he was right. Maybe a game of chess would help dilute the lust clouding her brain. On the other hand, she knew that was wishful thinking. But she decided to humour him a little.

Sitting comfortably on his lap, he kissed her neck, setting up the board with all the pieces. His fingers placed them expertly, his mouth preoccupied with soft kisses against her skin.

"You're going to beat me."

"You're a smart girl, Vi. Give yourself some credit. You wanna start?"

"I don't—"

"Here." He navigated one of the pawns across the board. "You know the rules?"

"I think so. It's been so long since I've played."

"We can practice."

"Can it be after you make me come?"

He smiled, his eyes bright as he gazed at her. "I can clear this board and have your pussy wrapped around me at the same time, pretty girl."

At that, a spark of hope ignited inside of her. Her body pulsed at the promise of having him touching her in any way. He saw the spark behind her eyes and leveled with her.

"After you've earned it, of course."

She groaned, watching as he leaned towards the chess board, clearing one of her pawns with little to no effort. She wriggled restlessly against him and he tutted.

"Patience."

"I'm running out of it." She bit out, rutting herself back against his hard cock. He groaned at the sensation, his hand coming down to her hip to encourage her.

"I know, baby. It'll be so worth it." He purred into her ear, his dick throbbing hard and steadily. "It's not easy for me, either."

"Then why put it off? You know you'll fuck me anyway."

"I'm taking you away from your studies tonight, aren't I?"

"Well—"

"Here's an easy one—Who united Greece? And focus on the game."

"Alexander the Great." She leaned forward, completing a play that rendered him with one fewer pawn. He hummed In approval.

"There's my good girl. Spread your legs for me."

"Thank god," she sighed, doing just as he asked. He rewarded her by pulling her panties down, leaving them tangled around her ankles in a lacey mess.

"What do you want, hm? You want me to play with your pretty clit?"

"Yes please, daddy."

"Such good manners." He praised, his fingers finding her warmth like he was drawn to it. She cried out at the touch, his fingers circling her clit, dipping lower to gather her wetness before returning to her most sensitive spot.

"Fuck." She cried out in relief, her entire body shaking at his expert touch. He hooked his fingers inside, pulling tight against her g-spot. Her entire body went lax against his and he growled deep in his chest before making his next move on the board.

"Your turn."

"Can I come? Please?"

"Your. Turn. And tell me about Socrates"

"He believed that no one does wrong on purpose."

"And why is that?"

"He said evil is the result of ignorance. That people would do the right thing if they knew it was the best thing to do."

He started moving his hand, picking up a pace that had her eyes rolling back. "My good fucking girl. And look, you can easily take my bishop, honey."

"You're letting me win." She whimpered, rolling her hips towards his hand.

"Hard to focus on a game of chess while my girl is dripping down my hand."

"So let's stop playing."

"Nice try." His hand moved back to her clit, circling it. He could hear how fucking wet she was and it made his ears ring. "Get my bishop."

She did exactly that, rewarded with his hand moving at a faster pace. He never let her get used to one thing, always switching it up to keep her on her toes. He knew that if he allowed too much focus into one area, she'd be too far gone to bring her back to earth.

He edged her for a few more moves, attempting to calm her quivering body and even shakier composure. He'd never drawn it out for this long and she sobbed uncontrollably at the onslaught.

"Please," she cried, beyond any thoughts aside those of bliss. "Please let me...let me."

"You can't handle it, pet?"

"I can't..." her words struggled to make it past her lips.

"Where's my good girl, hm? Where's my good girl who takes what she's given?"

"I've been so good, please let me come."

"You'll come when my cock is inside you."

"When?" She growled out in desperation. "I answered your questions, I played the fucking game, please just give it to me."

At her curse, he withdrew completely, leaving her empty and vulnerable. She writhed against his hold, her orgasm dangled before her and left her breathless.

"My pretty girl. You're all mine, aren't you?" His hand encased her throat and he kissed her messily. She nodded against him, whining into his mouth. "Show me your manners and I'll give you what you want. I'll stuff you so fucking full, pet. What do you say?"

"Please fuck me, daddy," she ground her ass back against him. "Please. I'm your good girl, give me your cock. I'll drench it, daddy, you like it when I make a mess. Please, please..."

He moaned loudly, his brain diluting into mush. She was so fucking perfect. So submissive to him yet she harboured more control than either of them could comprehend. It took all of his strength to take it this far with her.

Standing briefly to free his cock from his slacks, he replaced her on his lap, this time his cock pressed against her cunt. He tapped the pillowy head against her clit, grunting when her body convulsed, a sharp cry coming from her chest. She was so close to getting what she wanted. What they both wanted.

He lifted her a touch, lining himself up to her, both of them panting and shaking. He slid her down, cursing as her tight body took him in, so fucking tight and pulsing after his antics.

She moaned his name as she took him fully, so fucking full that she could barely stand it.

"So big." She gasped, her hips moving at their own accord. He hadn't said that she could move but they were both too far gone to care.

"You always take it, baby. You're my good girl."

Every time he called her that, she was that much closer to dropping to her knees and showing him just how good she was. The thought made her take him harder.

Her orgasm barrelled towards her with no warning, and before either of them could gather themselves, she was coming hard on his cock, completely obliterated. She shook hard, and he held her by her thighs and fucked up into her, her orgasm leaving them both drenched. Even the chessboard wasn't left unscathed. The game was forgotten.

He stood, placing her gently on the sofa, his hands scaling the length of her body. He peeled that little fucking dress that he was sure would haunt him.

"I'm buying you more dresses like this."

She smiled lazily, her eyes warm and relaxed on his fiery expression. "You like it?"

"I hate how fucking hard I got the second you took your coat off."

She giggled, reaching up to cup his bicep. "Come here."

"Let me admire you."

She felt restless and completely seen under his stare. Her bra was the only thing she had on. "I want to see you, too." Although she had the perfect eyeful of his cock, dripping from her orgasm moments before.

He reached down, his hand wrapping around his length while the other cupped her breasts until they were spilling from the lacy cups of her bra.

"So fucking beautiful. My perfect girl. Do you want to come again?"

"Fuck..."

"Answer me."

"Yes, please." She purred, allowing him to undo her bra and fling it across the room to join the rest of her discarded clothing.

"Where? On my hand or in my mouth?"

He'd never given her a choice until now, and it stumped her. "I don't mind."

He smirked, his hand gripping her throat, the other still working his cock. "So polite. You'll take anything I give you, isn't that right? Just happy I'm paying attention to you, aren't you, pet?"

His observation was so spot on, and if he didn't drop to his knees before her she would have elaborated further. Told him how even holding his hand or meeting his eyes across the classroom got her wet.

He spun her so that she was sitting on the sofa, leaning comfortably, bringing her hips forward until he was staring right at her dripping centre.

He blew a stream of cool air, grinning when she shivered. "So sensitive." His tone was almost accusatory and her hand came down to tangle into his hair.

"It's your fault."

"Is that so?"

"Nobody has ever made me feel like you do."

He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. "My girl. You make me so happy. Let me show you how much."

His lips met her clit immediately, not wasting any time to taste her fully. She saturated him, his chin fucking dripping. And he'd only just gotten started. He wanted her so far gone that she couldn't remember her name.

She slumped against the couch, her body drawn to him. Her hips worked up towards his face so fiercely that he stopped moving altogether, enabling her to fuck his mouth, taking just what she needed.

Her fingers ached with how hard she was holding onto his hair, needing something to anchor her to the ground for fear she'd leave her mind.

"You're so close already." He purred, sucking her clit into his mouth before drilling his tongue against it.

She gasped, her whole body tensing and quivering. Your fault, she would say if there was any air in her lungs to deliver the words. He just knew her body beyond comprehension. Like he had some unspoken bond, bending it to his every will and demand.

He slipped two fingers inside of her, scissoring them to get her accustomed to the stretch, wound so tight. Her wetness encased his rings, flowing over them. His eyes narrowed at such a dirty sight.

"Come on, baby. You want to, I feel it. Come all over me. Do it, pet."

His fingers curled against her g-spot, holding firmly before he moved his whole arm, using such a vigorous force that she came. Hard and fast, drenching his face and still-clothed chest.

The noises that she made pierced deep into his chest, like a rolling thunder that seduced him and left him choking. His name was clouded by breathless sighs and sensual moans he curled his toes at. And her face. The most seraphic angel raptured.

She came down softly, of her own accord, yet completely ravelled. A deep parallel to the highly intense ecstasy she'd just welcomed.

And, all too quickly, he was naked, having practically ripped his clothes off and left them discarded. The sheer need—animalistic, hungry, unrivalled need—to fucking devour her took hold of him.

He stood up, carrying her in his chain-like hold. He found the nearest wall, knocking countless priceless pieces of art to the ground in the process. But he didn't even care. He had to be inside her. Had to claim her. He'd already done so with his words, but now he needed to etch it into her skin.

With an expert manoeuvre, he was pushing his swollen length inside of her plush cunt. She moaned, biting into his bare shoulder, her nails dipping into the inked skin of his biceps.

Bracing his thighs with a widened stance, he started pistoning into her, not giving her any time to adjust to his size. He grunted, taking her so hard that he saw black. His hands pressed deep into the flesh of her thighs where his hold was taught.

The noises they were making and their bodies were making were feral. He had half a mind to be concerned about bothering his neighbours. But his sweet girl and her delicious body were all that mattered to him.

"So fucking tight," His eyes narrowed on hers, wanting to look at her face while he destroyed her from the inside out. "My girl. I love fucking you."

She moaned, her head lulling back to rest on the wall. "You fuck me so so good, daddy."

He growled deep in his chest, spreading his legs more to fuck up into her. She cried out, whimpering when his mouth latched onto her nipple, pulling it between his teeth with a low hum.

"Come for me," He practically begged. "Make a fucking mess, pet."

"I—I can't—"

"You will." He crooned. "I want it, honey. Give it to me."

He'd gotten her body so worked up, suspended in a sensitive state so that she felt like she was permanently on the bridge of pleasure. She shook her head loosely, internally begging him to go easy on her.

"Please..."

"You've been begging me to come all day, needy girl. You telling me you can't handle it, now?"

"No, but—"

"But daddy fucks you so good, doesn't he?" His tone was mocking and she groaned, feeling his thrusts slow a little, instead hitting her deep and calculating.

"So good." She whimpered, her hands tangling into his hair.

"Show me how good, pet. Show me how fucking good I take you."

Then his hips pummelled towards her, enticing unintelligible cries from her. But he didn't give up, racing to get her there even though his own body was close to release. They'd both been so worked up, he had been hard ever since she'd left his office.

"You wanted it so fucking take it." He spat through clenched teeth. "Take it, little girl. That's it."

She came hard, her entire body shaking in his grasp. But he held her firmly, continuing to fuck her while he did, wanting her completely wrapped in pleasure. She made such a forceful mess that he had to pull out, gasping at the wetness that soaked them both.

"You're so fucking sexy." He grinned lazily at her, watching as her eyes began to focus on him through the haze. "Was that nice?" She hummed in affirmation, his mouth parched. He beamed brighter. "Good girl. Daddy's good little girl."

"Yours." Was all she said, all he needed to hear.

He turned so that his back was pressed against the wall, slipping back inside of her with an insane amount of ease considering how wet she was. "Fuck, I'm close." He sighed, drawn so tight from a day full of teasing. "Gimme a second."

Her eyes turned mischievous, and he groaned at her sultry expression. She moved her hips against him, using his hold as leverage to fuck down onto him.

"Vi—no. W-What did I just say?"

"Take it, professor." She purred, slamming down onto him. He cried out, his legs almost giving out. He was shaking so intensely that he was almost concerned by the tremors.

"I'm too close, stop moving." He begged, his tone a complete switch to the hue he'd harboured all day. She didn't listen of course. She'd chosen this moment to be bold and disobey him. He feared that It would cut their time short.

"Violet." He pleaded, his brow furrowed in deep concentration, attempting to keep his body at bay.

"But it's too good to stop." She countered, rolling her hips. Their skin slapped together with the force of her coming down so hard on him. He let out a noise that resonated with a whimper and a whine. Now he was the needy one.

Panicked, his body on the brink of release, he gripped her throat, still able to hold her up with the other arm.

"Stay fucking still. You hear me?"

"Fuck—"

"Stop."

"Please, Harry."

"Shut up. Do as you're fucking told or I'll come on my fist and make you clean it up with your whore mouth."

"Please, I want you to come, daddy."

"You don't listen." He hissed, his mind so foggy with her essence that he couldn't focus on anything else. "I'm too... I'll come, I need a minute."

"But I don't want to stop." She pouted. He pulled her off of him, laying her down on the rug in front of the fireplace, staring down at her.

His chest eased marginally, allowing him to feel a moment of calm. "If I'm coming in your sweet little pussy, it'll be in my bed, nowhere else."

He didn't want to admit it, but it had been a huge feat for him to admit his feelings to her. To admit his jealousy and his longing. It marked a big night for them both and he wanted her in his sheets. To fuck her where he spent his most vulnerable hours. To fill her with his cum in a place he didn't share often.

"I don't think I can stand." She whispered, her entire body still shaking. He breathed out a laugh, not even responding before he picked her up in his toned arms, carrying her carefully up the stairs. Her eyes fanned over each painting on the wall as they went through the hallway, stopping at his bedroom door.

He nudged it open, taking her inside and so sweetly placing her on his bed. The blankets were soft and silky, and she was enveloped in his scent. Warm oud, wrapped in vanilla and honey.

He came over her, his demeanour soft and curious now. Like being in such a personal place made the dominant side of him disappear. He kissed her softly, his tongue meeting hers. His hand encased her cheek so delicately it made her chest burn.

Wrapping a leg around his hip, she reached down, finding his throbbing cock and sliding him back into her plush cunt. She whimpered, so fucking sensitive. His eyes fluttered closed at her rippling walls, his favourite place to be.

"I won't last." He informed, his tone shy. She brushed her fingers along the tops of his cheeks, brushed red and clammy with sweat.

"It's okay, baby."

He sucked in a breath. "I want to fuck you all night."

"You will."

"You'll stay?" His eyes were hopeful, and she wondered how he could feel such a way when there was no way that she'd reject him.

"Of course."

He moaned, kissing her intensely as he began fucking her again. She rolled her hips up to meet his thrusts, feeling him so deep it was almost painful. He was panting, so feral for her. For how she felt and how sweet she was and how she was all his.

His orgasm loomed, and the promise of fucking her over and over again tonight made it easier to bare.

"God, you feel so good."

"Are you close, daddy?" She replied with a squeeze around his dick, sucking him in every time he withdrew.

"Fuck," He spat. "Keep doing that."

She smiled, taking her bottom lip between her teeth. Her cunt pulse around him and he buried his face into her neck to leave a mark before finding her eyes again.

"Tell me not to come in you."

She shot him a perplexed look, halted by his hand on her throat as he started fucking her harder.

"Do as you're told. Now."

"Please..." She gripped his biceps to ground herself. "Pleased don't come in me, professor."

"Why? You don't want your professors cum in your innocent little pussy?"

"No, please—" She gasped for air around his hand.

"I'm too close." He gritted. "Fuck, I'm right there."

"Pull out, daddy." She cried, her eyes streaming when he reached down to play with her clit, pinching and rolling it.

He groaned loudly, his orgasm rocking through his overexerted body. He filled her up, listening to her cries as his fingers got her there again. Her cunt spasmed around him as he came inside of her.

They held each other for ages after. It could have been minutes, or hours, before his face withdrew from her neck with a lazy smile.

"Shower?"

"Please."

A night of firsts.

The next morning, Harry was in full professor mode. Only, he was exceptionally happy which was another first. He had a pep in his step, held the door open for others, and didn't despise the fact that he had to teach today when he'd much rather be with her.

He saw her in class in the afternoon, and for the first time, he felt nervous. Like it was his turn to impress her.

He handed out freshly graded papers, his eyes not meeting hers for fear he'd melt in them, and said under his breath, "Come see me after class."

And, of course, he saw her thighs clench together and he had to stop himself from cutting class short for the day.

He moved on quickly, leaning against his desk once he was finished handing the papers back to his students.

"Our trip to Athens is fast approaching. I hope you've all finalised your topics. Remember we want to see a prominent figure of ancient Athens. This does not include the pantheon, as some of you wanted to do. Check your topics with me so I can give you the okay to start. Questions? No? Good."

He wrapped up, excusing himself into the hall after his students. While Violet went to freshen up in the bathroom, she passed him on his way to his office. Their hands lightly brushed.

After tidying her hair and applying some gloss, she made her way to him, her heart thudding in her chest. She opened his door, far past knocking when he was expecting her, only to find that he had company.

Not just anybody, either. A beautiful woman, with perfect features and a bouncy blowout. Violet stopped short, her eyes finding Harry leaning against his desk, with the strange woman's hand on his bicep.

He cleared his throat and straightened. "Violet." His eyes flickered between her and the woman. "This is Miss Lincoln. She's just joined the faculty."

"Hopefully for longer than my placement has planned." She laughed, finally turning to her. "Hi. Nice to meet you, Violet." Miss Lincoln reached her hand out to shake Violet's. She turned back to Harry. "Is this one of your students?" She looked at Violet. "You really should knock, sweetie."

Violet ground her teeth together, her chest aching. "Sorry."

"Oh, don't be! Harry and I were in the same class way back when, we were just catching up. No biggie."

"You're a historian, too?"

"Indeed! I'm taking over Mr. Whitaker's class while he's on leave."

"Wonderful."

Harry eyed Violet, trying to gauge her mood. This woman was beyond stunning. And around Harry's age. They'd gone to school together and now here she was. In his fucking office with her hands on him and her blouse unbuttoned a little too low for it not to be calculated.

"I'll see you in class, Professor Styles." She turned and left, not even acknowledging Miss Lincoln, missing when Harry went to speak. She didn't want to hear it.

Her mood hadn't improved by the time she was sitting in a pub with her friends, listening to them complain about school and all the assignments they had due. She didn't even finish her drink before she was calling it a night.

Sprawled on her floor surrounded by her notes and books, the landline rang. Her headphones were plugged into her Walkman, blissfully unaware until her flatmate barged into the room holding the white landline in her head.

"Violet?"

She peeled her headphones off. "Yeah?"

"Uh... Professor Styles is on the phone for you?"

"Oh."

"Why is he calling you?" She questioned when Violet stood, reaching for the device.

"I asked him to fact-check something for me." She explained, pushing wisps of hair from her face.

"You gave him our number?"

"It was urgent." Violet defended, shooing her away after taking the phone. "Hello?" She breathed out into the receiver.

"Vi."

"Hi."

"You left." Fuck, his voice was deep.

"You seemed preoccupied."

Harry, sitting in his home in front of the fireplace, was missing her deeply, finding the warmth in his tumbler of whiskey, not a good substitute. "What do you mean? I wanted to see you."

"So did Miss Lincoln."

"She's an old friend, pet."

"Seemed very comfortable. I didn't want to interrupt."

He narrowed his eyes at the crackling flames, trying to understand. And then, his expression softened and he smiled. "Are you jealous?"

"No." She answered quickly.

"Violet, I meant what I said last night. Do you need a reminder?"

She sighed. "This paper isn't going to write itself."

"Well, no. But two brains are better than one."

She doodled aimlessly on a piece of scrap paper. "You've got me there."

"Mm. And I hope to get you on every surface in my house. You hungry?"

"I just ate—"

He released a sharp breath. "Violet."

"Sir."

"Get over here. And wear a short dress again."

Tonight, she obeyed him.

She spent every night there for two weeks. She'd given her roommate some dismissive reason as to why she'd packed a bag and gone to stay elsewhere. Something vague about family drama.

Every spare moment they had in school, was spent in his office, or he'd drive them off campus and grab some lunch, wander through parks, and shop for books.

Miss Lincoln was constantly garnering his attention when they were in school, and it irked Violet beyond reasoning. She watched her in seething hatred as she flirted with her favourite professor, who always assured Violet that he felt nothing for the supposed old friend.

"I just think it's unprofessional." She grumbled, crossing her arms as he stirred a pot on the stovetop.

He looked at her over his shoulder. "I told her to back off. I have a girlfriend and I am very very content."

She jumped at the endearment. "Girlfriend?"

"Oh, did you prefer pet?"

She rolled her eyes, going back to her work. She was helping him finalise the itinerary for the class trip, and it made her chest feel tight. He'd enlisted her help with it for the last one, too. It felt full circle for her. He had asked her weeks ago, and tonight she decided to wrap it up. She had been more than eager to do so, however, felt more inclined once Harry had told her that Miss Lincoln had tried to commandeer the task.

"I can't believe she tried to take over the itinerary." She grumbled, still irritated by this woman. "Doesn't she know this is my way to earn my sexy professor's praise?"

"Sexy, huh?"

"Mm. I'm crushing hard."

"I think he knows." He shot her a sly look.

She bit her lip, eyes avoiding his. "Doesn't it bother you?"

"What?"

"Having her draped all over you every day."

"She's not."

"You know what I mean."

He chuckled. "You're mad, hm? I'll tell her to fuck off or else. How's that?"

She nodded overly enthusiastically. "It sends the right message."

"Jealous girl. I'm all yours, remember?"

"Doesn't make it any easier to watch. Now I know how you were feeling when Charlie was all over me."

At the name, Harry's eyes darkened. "But you fucked him."

"Well... yeah, there's also that. You didn't fuck her?"

"Nope."

"I feel better." She relaxed.

"A little or a lot?"

"A little."

He smiled at her, turning off the stove and walking to her. His eyes scanned over the papers in front of her with an approving nod, and his lips pouted. Then he cupped her cheek and kissed her. "It does bother me, by the way. I don't like how it makes you feel. I'll talk to her, I'm sorry."

"Thank you."

"It's like I said, I want you to be happy."

And he'd done more than enough to ensure that. She kissed him, her paper forgotten and their dinner waiting, he ate her out on the countertop until she was dripping onto the floor.

Juggling a cup of shitty coffee, her passport and her suitcase towing behind her, she found the check-in line where the rest of the classes were waiting. She felt a mess, annoyingly dishevelled that morning. She'd spent all morning rushing, having gone back to her flat to pack the night before.

She was flustered and tired, almost missed her alarm, and had made it by a hair's breadth. Harry shot her a look of bewilderment at her sheer lack of organisation.

"You missed roll call, Violet. Had me worried." His expression was indifferent as he regarded her, always so cautious around the other students.

"I know, I'm sorry, sir. I missed my alarm."

Miss Lincoln stepped in, "This is not the time to be late, Violet. Boarding starts soon."

She opened her mouth to defend herself, but Harry raised a hand.

"It's fine. She's here—no harm done."

Violet glared at her back when she turned, and Harry pinched her side. "Behave." He murmured lowly to her.

"Bite me." She retorted, slipping ahead to greet her friends.

She was sure her bad luck had timed out post making it to the airport. But after checking in and receiving her boarding pass, she'd found that the universe was indeed playing a game on her. She made her way towards her seat, spotting Harry sitting next to none other than Miss Lincoln. She avoided his eyes, deftly making her way back a few isles and settling in, unfortunately, seated next to a very wounded Charlie.

For the most of the flight, she worked on her paper. But she was always distracted, watching the tops of their two heads as they turned towards each other, deep in conversation. Charlie kept pining for her attention which she'd brush off with little care for his feelings.

She didn't get to speak to Harry until they were piling into the lobby of their hotel in Athens. He was at the desk, handing everyone their assigned room keys, and she waited to approach him when he was alone.

"No room mix-ups this time?"

He peered down at the remaining keys. "About that..."

She groaned, nearing a tantrum. "What now?"

"Suffice it to say I will not be sharing a room with a student this trip."

"Don't even say it."

"It's fine. There are two separate beds. I'll barely even speak to her—it's just protocol, Violet. I told her I'm off limits and uninterested."

"Fine. Who am I with?"

"Marnie."

She rolled her eyes. "She can't sleep without a nightlight. Wanna swap?"

"Where's the team spirit?" He smiled down at her, his fingers brushing hers before they were interrupted.

"Harry?" Violet's eye twitched at the sound of Miss Lincoln's voice. "Let's freshen up, we're meeting everyone back down here in twenty."

Harry gently nudged Violet along, Miss Lincoln staring at her while they waited for the elevator. Harry responded to a few comments she made on the way up however overly ignored her, instilling a coldness between them that Violet could feel the chill of.

Violet headed to her shared room, looking back to see her favourite professor and less favoured woman walk toward theirs. This was going to be a long three days, but she'd consider them successful if she didn't bite Miss Lincoln's head off.

Harry kept cold and firm against her as they settled into their room. Miss Lincoln opened up her suitcase, taking her time to unpack for the day while he showered. He exited fully clothed, ready to go.

"I think someone has a crush on you." She mused, touching up her lipstick in the mirror.

"Hm?"

"That Violet girl. She'd smitten."

He simmered, his skin feeling hot. "One of my students? I don't think so."

"You should see the way—"

"Please stop. She's a student and I don't see her that way." The words hurt to push past his lips. But he had to keep everyone off their trail. If anyone caught wind, it would be the end of either their careers or their relationship. Perhaps both.

The class spent the day traipsing through ruins, the acropolis and agora, every speck beautiful. Timeless through the thousands of years they'd been gracing the earth. She secretly took pictures of her lover amongst the ruins, and his old soul looked at ease amongst the ancient marble.

He belonged here, she surmised as she watched him. He belonged in this profession because his very fibres were molded by strains of history's best tales. Of bravery and power to understand one's mind by reading the stars, of undiluted dedication and an ability to read that made even the wisest of oracles envious.

It put her at ease and made her heart soar. He'd picked her. Her. For a plethora of reasons she was sure were as outlandishly sounding as hers.

She'd treasure him forever, her heart could just tell. Perhaps her mind would frame the feeling the way he did his art in his home.

He was always looking at her, too. And she wondered if they were always on the same page for a reason. Like how Jupiter could steer comets away from the Earth. Something protecting us that was far beyond our reach. Yet to understand.

The new historian was glued to his side, asking questions that she probably already knew the answers to, just wanting to speak with him. Violet had never been so green with envy. It made her feel sick, like swaying on a rocky current with no sign of land. Harry kept assuring her with put-off looks that he wasn't phased by the professor. But it did little to negate her attempts.

They all peeled off into their groups for dinner, and Violet shared a table with a few classmates, her mind on her dreamy professor who was no doubt thinking of her, too.

It was hard, this time around. They barely saw each other alone, having to keep professional where they'd usually sneak in hidden touches and murmured secrets into ears.

She later found herself in the hotel bar, listening to Charlie and another classmate debate who was the better deity of the pantheon when her eyes drifted over the room.

Mossy green already attached to her, she smiled softly. He approached the group, a tumbler of glistening ice and copper drink in his hand.

"How are we getting on?"

"What if Poseidon won?" Charlie pushed on, ignoring him completely, too entranced in the conversation.

Harry came to stand beside her, his hand hidden as it pressed to her back, his fingers trailing shapes that made her shiver.

"He had nothing to offer the people that they didn't already have. Athena did." The other classmate rebuked.

Violet smiled, feeling calm at his touch.

"That's not true!" Charlie exclaimed.

"You're just mad the victor was a woman." Violet voiced, feeling smug at Charlie's bashful expression.

"And what did he do in retaliation? He took their water source."

"He was a sore loser. Shocking male behaviour." She rolled her eyes. She heard Harry chuckle, his hand falling from her back to raise towards her shoulder, squeezing before dropping it completely.

"If he won that battle, I dread to think of what state ancient Athens would be in."

They stopped, looking towards their professor who before this moment not given them the light of day.

"Poseidon was a badass."

"All male deities have proven to be problematic, particularly where human civilisations are concerned." He said lowly.

"What about Goddesses doing crazy shit?"

Harry shrugged. "Justifiable behaviour. Don't be up late, we have a busy day tomorrow."

She watched as he sauntered off, turning briefly and not caring if anyone saw him smile warmly at her. She wanted that warmth between her legs and it took everything in her not to follow him.

After a few too many, she made her way up to her room, drinking plenty of water to sober herself up before taking a long shower. She was drying her hair, walking towards her bed. Her room buddy was fast asleep in her bed, and she was wary not to wake her.

And then she spotted a piece of paper that had been slotted under her door. Curious, she adjusted her towel before picking it up.

I miss you. I'll dream of you tonight.

She huffed out a breath, her sour mood regarding the leech that had attached herself to her lover dissipating. While that snooty woman was asleep all too close to him, he'd be thinking of her.

She fell asleep with the note on her pillow, phantom wisps of his scent lulling her into sweet dreams where she was wrapped in his arms.

It felt like mere minutes when she woke up with a start, her eyes seeing nothing but pitch black. She felt something dip on her bed next to her and she scrambled away, starting to panic before a hand reached out to soothe her.

"Shh. It's me."

"Harry? How did you—"

He kissed her deeply, settling her back into the sheets. "I couldn't sleep." He whispered against her lips. "I have to have you."

"Harry," she was all too aware of her classmate sleeping in the next bed over. "She'll hear us."

"Then you'll have to be quiet."

His tone proved no room for negotiation. She had no choice but to succumb to him, which was easy considering she needed him just as much as he needed her. He kissed her softly as if an indication as to how gentle he was about to be.

He peeled off her silk shorts, shaking his head against hers when she attempted to remove his shirt.

"Too risky." His voice was barely audible.

She whined in discontent before his hand flew up to cover her mouth.

"When I say quiet I mean quiet, little girl."

She hushed, understanding what he needed. He needed to be close to her in the way they knew best.

"But I like you naked."

He smiled slowly, his lips finding her jaw. "You better like me all the time."

"I do..."

"Then shut up so I can take care of you."

She breathed out a soft hum, handing herself over to him. He reached between them, his fingers finding her soaked.

He moaned, pushing his fingers inside of her to gather more wetness to spread across her clit in calculated circles. "Always so wet for daddy, pet."

She whined out and he hushed her, his lips pressed against hers.

"Please don't tease me tonight, sir. I want you."

He trembled with those words and wasted no time in pulling down his pants enough to free his length. She licked her hand, reaching down to spread the wetness along his shaft before drawing him to her centre.

She was snug, given the fact there was little time for foreplay, and her walls rippled around him. He swore at the feel and she giggled, both of them holding their breath after to ensure they didn't wake the sleeping form next to them.

He withdrew slowly, then pumped in. He released a shaky breath.

Her jaw dropped when he fucked her so deep she felt it in her stomach. "Oh... my god..."

"Shh, shh..." He didn't stop, keeping his pace slow so he didn't make too much noise. She moaned and he winced, checking on the next bed over before giving her three fingers to suck on.

"Can you come like this?" He questioned, his eyes adjusting to hers in the dark.

She nodded her head, silent and obeying.

He shifted his hips slightly to the left, her body clenching tight around him and her teeth clamping down on his fingers.

"Yeah? Like that?"

He knew he was talking too much. But he wanted her so bad and wanted her to feel as good as he was feeling.

She pressed her hand against his tummy, feeling his abs flex against her touch. The indication of his strength and agility made her melt against him.

His fingers left her mouth, splaying against her jaw while he kissed her, licking into her mouth.

The bed creaked as he picked up his pace and he grunted, slowing down again. He had wanted to take her hard and fast. But now, he wanted to love her how he fell for her, mellow yet intense.

He kissed her again, this time drawing it out as he took her. He wanted to tell her so much. How special she was and how smart and unyielding in her passion.

But he settled for this. Instilling her body with a pleasure she'd never felt before. She came around him, quivering and writhing while he struggled to hold her down, his hand covering her mouth lest she made any sound.

"Messy girl." He teased, though his tone was heavy with praise. She breathed out a laugh at his remark, so in love with him in that moment. Such a risk to be doing what they were doing but it felt beyond amazing and the fact that he made her laugh was a feat in itself.

"I want to taste you." She pouted, rolling her hips up towards him.

"Not tonight, honey."

"Please, daddy."

"Shh. You'll wake her up."

"Just let me—"

He gave her a particularly hard thrust. "You put your mouth on me and I'll wake up the whole fucking hotel."

"Oh my god—"

"You feel so good, pet. Keep squeezing daddy's dick... just like that... fuck."

He rutted into her, so deep. She reached down, her fingers creating a v where they were connected, her touch firm around him each time he retreated.

Harry was always so vocal, especially when he came. But this time he was so quiet and she knew it was with great difficulty. Screwing into her as his orgasm took over, coming inside of her with a deep sigh of relief, his body shaking as he came down and she held him.

Her eyes lulled, her body lax as he laid on top of her. He pulled away, and she was ready to argue his departure but he went down under the blanket, his mouth meeting her used cunt. He ate her out slowly, collecting his own release before coming up to kiss her.

I want to taste you.

Her arms encased his shoulders, holding him tight as she felt him withdraw.

"You won't stay?"

"We've risked enough as is."

"Can I come with you?" Her beg was soft and it melted his heart.

"My sweet girl, I wish you could. Just a few more days, okay? Then we can go back to normal."

"Will you come and fuck me tomorrow?"

He grinned, standing and righting himself. "If you've earned it."

She smiled back, knowing full well their relationship was past this game of cat and mouse. Of earn it if you want it. No. They both were in so deep and owed it to themselves to take this risk.

His midnight visit had drawn them so much closer. Like they were able to communicate with simply a look, longing and pining.

They were all cramped into a bus doing a tour, and she sat behind him with a friend, her soul sparking at being so close to him. Miss Lincoln approached with a sultry expression, taking a seat next to him.

"Where did you go last night?" She queried. Violet felt a jolt of anxiety, trying not to make it obvious she was listening in while her friend was chatting to her.

Harry kept his cool, of course, visibly annoyed that this woman felt it her place to question him on his whereabouts.

"Needed some fresh air."

"It did get very warm." She laughed. "Do you remember that class trip to Brussels when we were students?"

Harry's jaw clenched at her attempt at a walk down memory lane. "You failed that assignment because you were too busy partying."

"And look at me now." She crooned. Violet clenched her fist in her lap.

"How long is your placement?"

"Just a few months. But plenty of time for us to—"

"—focus on our jobs. You're so right."

That made Violet smirk.

He came again that night, this time staying for a little too long. He took her slow and gently and then asked her all of the questions he'd always wanted to. What her favourite colour was, if she liked Halloween, her least favourite movie genre, the music she listened to when she wanted to cry, if she felt the chasm in her chest when they were apart just like he did.

On the last day, everyone split off to do their own thing. Violet and Harry had a little rendezvous at the national gardens, meeting at the terrapin pond with shy smiles. They wandered through the grounds, Violet pointing out birds and smiling when Harry would take pictures of her.

He picked a pink flower and tucked it behind her ear. She was so beautiful, the type of wonder that made the stars stop and witness it.

They explored the ancient city, and as stunning as it was, they were in utter awe of each other. They took turns, telling stories and sharing facts. He held her hand, stopping in the middle of a museum, surrounded by artifacts, knowing his love for her would withstand time far better than any of it.

"You'll be a great historian." He told her.

She looked up at him, her eyes full of wonder and inquisition. "Do you think?"

"I've taught many people and nobody sees history like you do. You see them as how we are now; trying to understand ourselves and survive the rest. It's admirable."

She loved him. In that moment and every one before.

And he was thinking of every moment that would come in which he would be so lucky to love her. "I want to take you somewhere tonight."

"Really? Where?"

"It's a surprise, Vi."

She grinned, wrapping her arms around his neck. "My professor, the hopeless romantic. Who would've thought?"

"Don't tell anyone." He smirked, kissing her.

Harry had rented a car, a '57 Ford Thunderbird, the same hue denim, the roof down and his cares reduced. She was wearing a little red wrap dress, one he knew he'd demand to see more often. She plucked her sunhat from her head as the wind picked up, sliding across the seat to snuggle up next to him.

"Where do your classmates think you are right now?" He massaged her thigh with his hand.

She kissed his neck, her hand splaying on his chest as he wound in and out of traffic. "Doing some solo sightseeing, researching for my paper, visiting old temple ruins, et cetera et cetera. What about Miss Lincoln?"

He made a distasteful expression. "What about her?"

"She's been glued to your side and always asks where you are. What did you tell her?"

"I told her I was going for a drive. Tried to invite herself."

She glared. "And?"

"And," he looked at her with a grin. "I said that she would ruin the view."

"I admire her perseverance."

"I admire you."

"Focus on the road, will you?"

The drive was long, and he smiled as she took the role of DJ, sifting through the stack of tapes and securing the best ones in the player. The views were incredible, and they stopped often so she could take pictures on her disposable camera. They took one together and he demanded to have it framed in his house, thinking of the space left from the ones that fell when he fucked her against the wall.

The car wound around a steep hill, coming to a halt. The sea surrounded them, blue and pristine. And these, nestled on the cliff, was a collection of columns lit golden from the sun. She looked all around, the Aegean sea glistening, but her eyes were focused on the cliff, and she knew the place from the tales told for thousands of years.

"The temple of Poseidon." She grinned.

"I had to bring you here. You can't miss a sunset like this."

"When does it set?"

His hand found hers. "Just under an hour. Enough time for us to get something to eat and go for a wander."

"Sounds good. Thank you, Harry."

They climbed along the top of the cliff face, Harry watching her every step while she watched the horizon. "Do you think Theseus did it on purpose? Didn't change the sails?"

"That's the thing with mythology, isn't it? If it was on purpose, did he know his father would jump from this cliff to his death? Was he even after the throne? We'll never truly know."

"He brought back a bride for a reason—he knew his father would see him king soon enough. It looked better if he had a queen."

Harry smiled softly, his eyes alight with interest as he regarded her. "You think it was calculated?"

"Well, I think so. He left Ariadne to Dionysus and went back to Crete for her sister. He was taking that throne when he returned home. His father was collateral, but it worked in his favour."

"I agree. Greek Mythology is just men being assholes."

She laughed, almost tripping before he caught her. "Their gods were constantly wreaking havoc, they hardly had good role models."

"Violet?"

"Mm?"

"I want this as a paper, please."

"Extra credit?"

"If you want. Or... you know, just for me."

She blushed, unable to meet his stare. "I'll have it on your desk stat."

They made their way towards the temple, glowing and formidable. Stark white marble amongst the dry, soft slope of the cliff. They found a place to sit, comfy on a blanket that Harry had stored in the trunk of the car.

The sunset was something she'd remember forever. The water was calm and clear, the view of the lowering sun uninterrupted as it moved from their side of the earth. It was warm, burnt honey with stains of sienna and raspberry. The delicate dusting of clouds framing it as if placed there by a deity rooting for their love.

He kissed her cheek, garnering her attention. "I could do this every day, you know?"

"Hm?"

"Look at the past while we build our future."

"I think I'm in love with you." She breathed out, their lips brushing.

"I think I've been in love with you all along."

She kissed him, the sun pouring its final beams over the horizon, lilac and blue bleeding into the sky in its absence.

She could do this too. Be with him. Explore and recite. Drink from his knowledge, and fill it back up as they balanced each other out.

There was more to him, she surmised, than what he let show. This stern demeanour was a façade, deflecting and savouring himself until he'd met her.

She looked around once more, taking it in, and wanted to live in this pristine moment for the rest of time and all that followed.

Golden rays in her eyes with ancient ruins to her back. But him. Beside her, a constellation she'd mark in the night sky behind her eyelids while she dreamt of him.

*** Thank you for reading and thank you for being here! see you next time xx

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