MY Possessive Mafia Men

MY Possessive Mafia Men

Chapter 192: My Body Still Wants You

Chapter 192: My Body Still Wants You Angelia

The second Marshall walked in, my pulse skyrocketed, and my body instantly warmed to the sight of him. He was wearing a brown suit, fitted to his swimmer's physique. His hair was swept carelessly to the side, and that laid-back hairstyle combined with the professional attire made my mouth dry,

Already, my mind began spinning tales of what would have happened if he were still my dominant. I envisioned that I had left my panties at home because he had commanded me to do it. My clit would be painfully pressed on the denim seam of my jeans, and he would have known how I ached all through his class. Each glance he chanced as he looked my way would be a warning for me to behave, for just a little bit longer, for the lecture to end and until we were alone. I fantasized about his desk the most, and the blackboard often. I saw myself bent over his desk as he rammed into me from behind. I pictured us against the blackboard, him fucking me with my back pressed against the writing surface, my shirt rubbing against the chalk written letters about today's lecture.

My skin burned at the thought of the indecency we could have done here. I rubbed my thighs together, trying to relieve my throbbing clit. I had never realized how much the thought of fucking in public would turn me on, to know that someone could walk in at any time and discover us. To see my professor fucking his students, and I would call him professor while we did it. And I will be a dirty, dirty student who gets off on it. A nudge from Godwin brought me out of my daydreaming, only to find everyone looking at me. My cheeks heated under their collective gaze. Gosh, I hoped they couldn't see what I had been thinking. Did I look hot and bothered? I felt hot and bothered.

Was there a tell for someone who was hot and bothered? Was I showing that tell?

"Angelia, I asked you a question. Are you even paying attention?" Marshall asked sternly.

If I hadn't known him, I wouldn't have been able to see the smirk he was trying to suppress, or the heat in his eyes. I didn't think anyone else caught it. My eyes narrowed slightly, that man damn well knew I hadn't been paying attention, and he was now calling me out in my wandering mind. "Sorry, what did you ask?"

I had hoped my voice would be steady, but I failed miserably to hide my embarrassment.

"What are the major ethical problems that businesses face?"

I took a moment to think, my mind sorting through what I had read about the matter. I seriously hate talking in class. "Discrimination and harassment?" It was supposed to be an answer, but it ended more like a question. He nodded.

"Correct," his eyes went from mine to the student in its entirety as he continued his lecture.

After he called me out, I forced myself to be in the present. I took notes, and while I refused to be an active part of the discussions, I listened. By the time we finished for the day, my body had cooled down But it didn't take more than a few words from him for it to change. "Ms. Hartwell, do you have a moment? I would like to speak to you."

"Sure, let me get my stuff." I said, the envious looks of other girls burned me as I started collecting everything in my bag. I ignored them, but a part of me couldn't help but feel just a little bit smug.

Trying to grab out the time, putting my things away unhurriedly, waiting for the room to empty. Only when there was only us left did I finally make my way over to him.

"What's up?" I tried to seem nonchalant, but if the slight twitch of his mouth was any sign, then it didn't work.

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"I can't help but notice that you seem quite distracted in my class. Am boring you, Ms. Hartwell?" The glint in his eyes made me

swallow.

"N..no, you are not boring me, professor Blake." I replied, feeling flushed.

All of a sudden, every fantasy, every scenario I had dreamed up bombarded me, but especially one, discipline. I had thought about it, more than I had thought about other things as I sat through his lectures. How he would pull me aside after a class, and he would tell me what I had done wrong. And then, he would make sure I learned from my mistakes. My pussy clenched, and I had to stifle a moan that wanted to

escape.

"Then tell me, Ms. Hartwell. Why do you have such trouble focusing?" He took a step closer to me, I should have tal a step back. I know I should, but my body was too desperate for his closeness. It had been too long, and I craved it more than I could put into words. "I think you know, professor." I mumbled. I hadn't meant to make my voice sound husky, but it did anyway.

His thumb brushed his lower lip as his eyes took me in, the heat in them was unmistakable now. He took another step closer, bringing us almost but not quite up against each other. If I were to take a deep breath, my breasts would surely brush against his chest. This, us standing this close together, wasn't appropriate. If anyone were to walk in on us, they would know that our relationship wasn't strictly student and professor. They would know there was something more between us.

"I think I do, but spell it for me anyway. So there will be no misunderstanding between us." He said, his tone dripping with scorching lust.

"Why is it that when I watch you in class, your eyes have this hazy look in them? And you can't seem to sit still. I have watched you, Mr. Hartwell. I have seen how your thighs were rubbing together as if you were trying to alleviate a certain ache."

This time, I couldn't hold in my soft moan. My eyes fell shut, as if he was standing in front of me like my former dominant, as my professor insinuating that I was turned on in his class was too much for me, and it was. It was heady and erotic and so, so wrong. It was dirty. I shivered when he finally touched me, he took hold of my chin and angled my face up, silently telling me to look at him. I did, I gasped as I took in his eyes. Having him so close to me, I could see how dark they had become, how full of desire they were. "What do you do if someone asks you a question, Angelia? You answer them."

The way he said the last three words, so sternly and firmly, sent another shudder through my body. Licking my lips unconsciously, I stared up at him. His eyes tracked the movement of my tongue, and his already heated eyes turned almost black as his pupils dilated. "I...I am not sure what you are talking about?" His gaze narrowed.

"Don't lie to me, tell me why you look like you want to get fucked every time I see you in class."

Fucked, just the sound of him saying that word made me wet. I could feel it seeping out of my pussy and drenching my panties.

"I..." I didn't know what to say.

"I can't help my reaction to you." I finally admitted, I had wanted to.

This was dangerous ground, he didn't need to know how much I missed him and how much my body craved his.

"It is not my fault that my body still wants you, I can't control it." It was a pitiful attempt at trying to distance us.

Belatedly, I noticed his thumb stroking my cheek, it felt very good. His soft caress was a stark contradiction to his less than soft expression, and that opposition made me crave him even more. There was something about soft caresses and a stern face that got me going. "I didn't say it was your fault." He commented, his voice gruff.

I could tell my response affected him as soon as he closed the last distance between us, his hard dick évident against my stomach.

Chapter 192: My Body Still Wants You

"I feel the same wa

about you. He confessed.

"Do you have any idea how many times I have had to hide my hard-on from the other students? Do you know how much you torture me with your sexy body that I can't touch, and your sinful plump month that I can't kiss? It was fucking hell having you this close, but not being able to do anything to get you closer."

The hand on my cheek moved behind my head, his fingers squeezing my nape with enough strength to force another moan out of me. Soft caresses were heavenly, but firm ones, those were my kryptonite. For a moment, all we did was stare at each other. So close our breath mingled, I could taste his minty breath, and he could taste mine.

The room was thick with tension, it was almost tangible. It was enfolding us, pushing us against each other by an invisible hand.

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