Chapter 4

Mia’s POV

I was still dying inside from the dildo incident.

Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Emrys Sternwolfe bending down in the corridor, picking up that thick, veiny monstrosity Daisy had gifted me, and holding it out to me with that slow, knowing smirk.

“You have interesting taste, Professor.”

The memory made my face burn all over again. I had spent the entire evening replaying that moment, mortified beyond words. How was I supposed to look that student in the eye during our tutoring session when he had literally handed me a dildo?

I had given Daisy an absolute earful that morning.

“You absolute menace!” I had hissed at her over the phone while getting ready. “Do you have any idea what happened yesterday? He saw it! He picked it up and handed it to me like it was a perfectly normal classroom supply!”

Daisy had laughed so hard I thought she was going to choke. “Oh my god, Mia. Did he say anything? Please tell me he said something filthy.”

“He said I have interesting taste!” I whisper-yelled, mortified. “I wanted the ground to swallow me whole. I am never speaking to you again.”

She only laughed harder. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry! But also… if he’s cute, you should totally shag him. You’re twenty-eight, babe. Your future husband is probably out there getting his dick wet every weekend. Why are you still saving yourself like a Victorian heroine?”

I had hung up on her, cheeks burning.

Now, hours later, I sat in my office, waiting for Emrys to arrive for our first tutoring session. I had triple-checked my bag this time. There were no inappropriate gifts, no embarrassing items, nothing that could possibly humiliate me further. I was trying to be professional. I needed this job. I needed the extra money from these sessions.

But my body was betraying me again.

That strange, warm pull low in my belly had returned the moment I stepped into my office. It was worse today. My nipples were tight and sensitive against my blouse. There was a steady, aching throb between my thighs that refused to go away. I kept shifting in my chair, pressing my legs together, trying to ignore it.

Please stop, I begged silently. I am a professional. I am appropriate. I do not do these things.

The worst part was the memories that kept slipping in uninvited.

I remembered fragments of that night. The heat of a hard, thick cock in my mouth, the salty taste, the way it had pulsed against my tongue as the masked man groaned above me. I had been drunk, but my body remembered the fullness, the weight, the way my jaw had ached so deliciously. I quickly shoved the thought away, horrified at myself.

Then, unbidden, my mind replaced the masked stranger with Emrys. The tall, broad-shouldered student that was supposed to be just that. A student. I could imagine those almost black eyes staring down at me as I knelt in front of him. I imagined what his cock would look like. Would it be thick, heavy, veined, the head flushed dark? I imagined how it would feel stretching my lips, sliding over my tongue, and hitting the back of my throat.

I squeezed my eyes shut, forcing the fantasy out.

Stop it, Mia. You are not this person. You are saving yourself. You are appropriate.

At exactly 4pm, there was a knock on my door.

“Come in,” I called, trying to sound calm.

Emrys Sternwolfe stepped inside, closing the door behind him. He was far too attractive for a student. His almost black eyes found mine immediately, and that pull in my core intensified so sharply I had to grip the edge of my desk.

“Professor Cromwell,” he greeted with a small smile on his face. “Thank you for making time.”

“Of course,” I replied, forcing a professional smile. “Please sit down. What topics are you struggling with?”

He took the seat across from me and listed several philosophy topics — Plato, Nietzsche, existentialism. I launched into explanations, trying to focus on the material. But every time I looked at him, the heat between my legs grew worse. My voice occasionally wavered. My cheeks felt warm.

About thirty minutes in, my eyes accidentally dropped lower.

There was a very noticeable, very large erection straining against the front of his jeans.

I gasped audibly.

Emrys noticed immediately. He shifted in his seat, adjusting himself without shame, and gave me a small, almost apologetic smile.

“Sorry about that,” he said casually. “I have a hard time concentrating in front of beautiful women.”

My face burned hotter than the sun. I looked away quickly, gripping my pen so tightly it nearly snapped.

“We should focus on the material,” I said, voice strained. “Let’s move on to Nietzsche.”

But Emrys wasn’t done. He leaned forward slightly, eyes dark.

“By the way… how’s the dildo? Have you used it yet?”

I froze. My mouth went dry. Heat flooded my entire body, then embarrassment, shame, and something much worse.

“I—I do not make use of such things,” I stammered, flustered beyond belief. “I am appropriate. I do not do inappropriate things like that.”

My voice was shaky. My thighs were pressed so tightly together they ached. The pull was unbearable now. I was wet. Horribly, shamefully wet. I could feel it soaking through my panties.

Emrys watched me with those intense dark eyes, like he could smell exactly how affected I was.

I stood up abruptly, nearly knocking my chair over.

“I think we should end the session here for today,” I said quickly. “We can continue tomorrow.”

He rose slowly, towering over me. Before I could move, he stepped around the desk and backed me against the wall, one hand bracing beside my head.

“I paid for two full hours, Professor,” he said, voice low and dangerous. “And I intend to get my full time. Nothing less.”

I was breathing fast, heart hammering. The pull was screaming inside me. My body was on fire. I had never felt this horny in my entire life.

He leaned in closer, nose brushing along the side of my neck. He inhaled deeply.

“I can feel what you feel,” he whispered against my skin. “You’re aching, aren’t you? You need help, Mia.”

I trembled. My mind was spinning. My conservative values, my promises to myself, everything was crumbling under the weight of this unbearable need.

The word left my mouth before I could stop it.

“Yes.”