Honey Writes

"Look at him, pet. Look at your beloved while I ruin you." Loki hisses. "Wasn't he supposed to take care of you? Wasn't the oh so mighty God of Thunder supposed to protect you? Yet here you are, falling apart around my cock while he remains completely unaware of your despair."

Taglist: @littletigerspeaks2 @mischiefmaker615 @run-clever-boy @freyafriggafrey @jadeofspadesxp

Chapter 11: T-shirt

Thursday morning you're the only one of your friend group that made it to the 9:30h lecture on Practical Criticism by Professor Doverman. You left the party after just a couple of hours, telling your friends you weren't feeling all that well. Luckily they'd had enough to drink by that time to let you go without too many questions. There had been a tiny incident with Chris where he drunkenly pulled you to him for a kiss to convince you to stay, but other than that nothing noteworthy had happened. 

Not ready to let go of the time you spent with Benedict, you decided to wear his shirt to uni. You paired it with a nice skirt and a pair of black boots. All in all a cute ensemble, but nothing like the provocative outfits you had been wearing to class lately. Well, not this class in particular. Professor Doverman isn't really on your ‘To do-list’ so to say.

The lecture is tedious and seems to take forever. You're convinced Professor Doverman’s voice actually slows down time. He always ends the lecture with five minutes to spare so you can copy all important information off the board, ending his lecture the same way he always does.

“Make sure to write everything down, kids. Remember: Verba volant, scripta manent: what is written remains; what is spoken flies away.” 

You're pretty sure the professor relishes in the collective groan that rumbles through the lecture hall every time he utters the words. After finishing up your notes to share with the rest of the group, you head to the campus cafe to grab lunch between lectures. Depending on the severity of the hangover, your friends might join you there and for the next lecture.

It takes a while for the barista to bring you your cappuccino and cinnamon bun, but you don't mind. The cozy atmosphere of the cafe always puts you in a good mood. Sipping on your coffee and scrolling away on your phone, you're happy to see Maddie come in about half an hour later. She puts her bag on the empty seat next to you and dramatically drops herself in the other chair, throwing her arms and face down on the small table.

“You must be fucking smitten with the guy if you’re wearing his bloody shirt to uni.” She exclaims as she props her head up a little to look you over.

“I’m not smitten, I didn’t even notice I put it on.” You lie, averting her eyes.

“Sure, tell yourself that.” Your friend grins.

“Shut up.”

“Anyways, I'm in desperate need of coffee!" Maddie says and pouts. "Would you get it for me? I just cycled all the way over here, my legs don't work anymore.”

 You look at your friend's despairing face and respond with a pitiful smile. The two of you have been in this situation countless times, the roles just as often reversed. You give her an assuring squeeze of the arm and make your way to the back of the small queue, happy to leave the conversation as is.

Two familiar men are just handed their to-go orders at the counter and you silently curse them in your head for showing up here right now. As they turn to exit, they both notice you instantly and walk up to you.

"Miss Major, what a pleasure to see you here." Benedict says with a kind smile.

“You too, professor." You reply with a nod and a face that's flushing quickly. "And you, Professor Hiddleston.”

You're trying your hardest not to meet Professor Hiddleston's amused gaze, feeling embarrassed about a certain phone call that transpired between you three just the day before yesterday.

“Nice shirt, Miss Major." Professor Hiddleston says, grinning at you. Then he turns to Benedict, his voice brought back to a whisper only the three of you can hear. "Couldn't you have just put a stamp on her head that says ‘CLAIMED’?”

“That's frowned upon." Benedict answers casually as he sips his coffee, winking at you.

“Ah yes, now you care about what's frowned upon and what's not.” Hiddleston replies. "I can name a few other things that are definitely frowned upon.”

“So can I, but I’d hate to see you jealous.”

Hiddleston scoffs at his friend’s remark. Before he can speak again, Benedict interjects.

“Let’s not get into this here. Miss Major is meeting me in my office this afternoon.” He says as he looks at you.

“I am?”

“You are.” Benedict says, then turns to his friend. “Feel free to stop by, can’t guarantee we’ll have a lot of time to talk, though. She and I have urgent business to attend to.”

"We do?”

"Certainly. Now then, would you let me buy you a coffee?"

During the conversation the queue has moved forward and you're almost at the front.

"You don't need to buy me stuff.” You tell him with a frown on your face.

"She let me buy her and all her friends coffee the other day. Just saying." Professor Hiddleston smirks and holds up his hands defensively when Benedict shoots him a glare.

 “You flustered me." You say, trying to justify your actions.

"I love that I have such an effect on you, darling.” Hiddleston flashes you another teethy grin.

The barista interrupts the three of you with a polite cough, bringing you back to the here and now. You order yours and Maddie's drink but before you can pay, Benedict has whipped out his card and taps it to the machine.

“Too slow, love." He smiles as he whispers the words. "I'll see you this afternoon.”

The men say their goodbyes and leave you with a head full of thoughts.

~*~

Your last lecture of the day ran a little late. The TA Michelle always forgets to keep track of time properly, ending the lectures while hastily telling you about upcoming assignments and exams. This time, she sprang a 15-minute presentation on you that will be expected next Monday during Professor Hiddleston’s lecture, who she shares the Literary Theory course with.

Maddie had been furious with Michelle for ruining her weekend plans, but thrilled to be able to present in front of Professor Hiddleston. Her crush has not subsided at all, and she is already planning what outfit she will wear to get him to notice her when you leave the lecture hall.

“Should we go to the centre and get something new? Maybe we can wear something matching, together we’ll be sure to get a stir out of him right?” She squeaks as you hold open the door for her. “I have this pair of boots that always make Steve practically drool over me, I’m wearing those for sure. You should put on those thigh-highs you have as well. They will work wonders for your next meeting with Cumberbitch, too. You’re not giving up on the professor just because you’re shagging some rugby lad, right?”

You chuckle at your rambling friend. “I hadn’t given it any thought yet.”

“The man’s defenses are wavering, I can feel it in my gut.” Maddie says with a stern look on her face. “Don’t go soft on me now. If it doesn't work out, you can always go back to Matthew.”

“Matthew?” You ask with an amused smile painting your lips.

“Okay so not Matthew… Dennis?” Maddie tries, excitedly biting her lower lip.

“Mads…”

“Leo? Callum? Oh my God, it’s Tall George isn’t it?”

You give her a look, but she continues anyway.

“Please tell me it’s Tall George, he’s just so…”

“Tall?”

“YES! You just know he can hoist you over his shoulder like it’s nothing.”

Laughing, you answer her pleading look. “It’s not Tall George either! And even if it was, I’m not telling you.” You quickly add as you see Maddie prepare to list more names.

“Fine, don’t tell me!” Maddie exclaims dramatically. Then, she furrows her brow and points a finger at you. “But you need to share every detail of your next meeting with Cumberbitch with me.”

“I’m actually meeting him right now.” You tell her.

“What? On a Thursday?”

“Yeah, he asked me to stop by his office this afternoon.”

“See! Just as I said!” She happily calls. “His walls are crumbling.”

“Maybe.” You give her a soft smile. “I’ll tell you about it tonight, okay? Let’s get a take-away at mine’s.”

“Sure, sure. I just hope he’s the possessive type, he’ll go feral seeing you in that shirt.”

~*~

As the elevator ascends to the eighth floor, you start to feel a little nervous again. Seeing your professor today reminded you of both his animalistic and nurturing behaviour yesterday. The memories spread a warm feeling throughout you, from your core to your heart. Wait, your heart? Let’s shake that feeling off real quickly. Don’t read into this too much, it’s just sex. Possessive, earth-shattering, “you-are-mine” sex.

It’s a bit later than planned when you knock on Benedict's door, the low baritone granting you permission to enter almost immediately. The smell of his aftershave lingers in the small room, sending goosebumps across your skin. As you timidly close the door behind you, you notice he’s not looked up from his computer screen yet, finishing up his typing first. You take your seat across from him, unsure of what he’s expecting of you at this moment. It’s a bit strange to see him in this situation again.

When he finally tears his eyes away from the screen to meet your gaze, his handsome features are painted with a kind smile. He leans back in his chair leisurely. Just looking into his radiant eyes makes your cheeks flush and your heartbeat speed-up. There’s a tangible silence hanging between the two of you. You, not sure what to say. He, clearly amused by your uneasiness. His eyes slide over your body, taking in your curves beneath his own shirt. You know it was bold of you to wear it to uni, but you don’t care.

“Everything alright, love?” He finally asks, cocking up one dark eyebrow.

You nod at him and give him a faint smile. “Yes, Profes… I mean-.”

“Benedict.” He muses as he interrupts you.

“Right.” You sigh. “It gets a little confusing, you know. I have to call you Professor at uni, then sometimes sir in the bedroom, and-”

“Benedict when no one else is around to hear.”

“There’s overlap between the situations though.”

He chuckles. “You’re right. I’m asking a lot of you. Three words, however will you manage?”

Just like that, all the nerves you felt before have faded away. Your heartbeat might still be slightly elevated and your cheeks are that lovely rosy-pink colour, but you feel comfortable with him. You’ll have to find out how to navigate the different roles the two of you take up in varying situations, though.

“Do you know why I asked you to come here today?"

“I don't think ‘asked’ is the correct terminology here." You reply with a smile.

“Maybe not." He admits. “Luckily you like being told what to do."

“I do not." You scoff.

"So if I ordered you to get on your knees right now and crawl to me like a good girl, that would leave you totally unfazed?”

"Totally.” You answer with a dry mouth and slightly heavier breath than before.

"Well then, shall I just show you why you're here?”

"Please, enlighten me.”

Benedict shoots you a look before rummaging through a bunch of papers, presenting you with a packet of three, neatly held together with a paperclip. A quick glance over sends your cheeks ablaze and you can’t seem to tear your eyes away from the text. There’s words you know - and maybe love a little - such as choking, spanking and kneeling. Others are completely new to you, though you can sometimes guess their meaning.

“I told you about the form, right?" He asks with an amused grin on his face.

 "Yes, you did.” You answer softly, averting his gaze.

"Good. It's a bit impersonal, I know. But it can be a good start for a more thorough conversation about your likes and limits. Maybe you can have a look at it tonight and we can discuss it tomorrow after our meeting?"

“Can’t we just talk about those things?” You ask as you put the papers back on his desk.

“We can, if that's what you prefer. There might be things on the form you wouldn't think about by yourself, though. And I don't want to accidentally cross any boundaries.”

“Is your mind that depraved and perverted?” A smile tugs at the corners of your mouth when your eyes meet his again.

The man in front of you clenches his jaw and leans back in his chair. “Anne, love… You have no idea.”

The twinkle in his eyes as he studies you sends delicious chills down your spine. You feel his piercing stare burn right through you. Damn those beautiful eyes of his. And damn your own depraved, perverted mind for getting aroused at the thought of discovering every single one of his deviant plans for the two of you.

“Come sit with me." Benedict motions his tight jaw in a gesture for you to join him. His voice has become somewhat more husky, dropping to a lower register that instantly makes goosebumps appear on your skin. It's more an order than a question, and after a small moment of hesitation you walk over to him, standing next to him and his chair.

“I said ‘sit’ love, not stand.” The professor asserts as he pulls you to him, making you straddle him in his chair. You throw your arms around his neck to balance yourself.

His hand is in your hair immediately, softly pulling at the roots to expose your neck to him. The other hand runs along your boot, then follows the curve of your waist and hip, tugging gently at the thin fabric that covers you. Soft kisses land on your skin as he trails down from your ear to your pulse point, slowly working his way back up along your jaw. His lips are incredibly close to yours, but he doesn’t indulge you in the kiss you’re obviously yearning for with parted, lightly trembling lips.

“Seeing you in that shirt today, in my shirt… Knowing all the little nips and marks it hides underneath is driving me insane.” He breathes against your skin, planting hungry kisses to your jaw. “Parading yourself around with those bruised knees sticking out from under that short little skirt of yours… I almost dragged you into the toilet at the campus cafe. If Tom hadn’t been with me I would have taken you right there and then.”

Both hands now travel up your thighs and hips, landing on your ass. He pulls you closer to him and clashes his mouth to yours, kissing you like a starved man that finally gets to feast. Eagerly you open your mouth to deepen the kiss, feeling just as ravenous. God, it’s good to taste him again.

His fingers tug your shirt out of the waistband of your skirt and you reach down to help undo yourself of the blue top. Without a second to waste he’s kissing you again, drawing moans from your mouth when a strong hand finds its way underneath your skirt and onto your clothed folds. His finger rubs the damp piece of fabric and you grind yourself against him. You lift your arms to put them around his neck again, but he catches your left wrist in the air and studies the small bruises that show on your left upper arm. They’re quite clearly fingermarks, four smaller circles forming a somewhat straight line and a bigger, darker circle a bit further away, indicating where a thumb had gripped you tight. Benedict runs a finger over them gingerly.

“What are those?” He asks pensively as he gently touches the bruises. “Those aren’t mine. You didn’t have them before.”

“What?” You say breathlessly, not understanding immediately. As you follow the trailing of his fingers, you see what he’s getting at. “Oh, that. Nothing really. It was just Chris.”

“Chris?” Benedict’s voice is rough when he speaks the name.

“Yeah, my friend. We were at a party last night and he-”

“You leave my house in the morning and let yourself get groped by a rugby lad the very same evening?”

“It was nothing like that. He tried to kiss me and I pulled away, but he held on to me a bit too tight I suppose.”

“He did what? Did he hurt you?” Benedict asks, both concern and anger in his voice.

“Maybe a little. Nothing serious though, he was just drunk.”

“His fingers left marks on you, he must have been pretty rough.”

“Not more than you when you left all those bruises on my waist, hips, thighs, pretty much everywhere.”

“Ah, but there’s a difference, see. You were writhing in pleasure when you got those bruises.” He says in a very professor-like tone, a mischievous look in his eyes.

“Maybe I was writhing in pleasure with Chris too.” You tease and grin down on him.

“Careful now.” Benedict warns as he lets go of your wrist and moves his hands up your back. His fingers on your skin are practically burning through you.

Lowering your face to his neck, your nose brushes against his earlobe when you speak again.

“You get so worked up over a couple of bruises another man left on me… What will happen if I wear his sweatshirt to uni tomorrow?”

He lets out a guttural sound as he stands up with you in his arms, dropping you on the desk. You reach for his arms, holding on to him frantically as he pulls your hips towards the edge of the wooden surface, hovering his strong body over yours.

“Do you need reminding who you belong to, Miss Major?" Your professor growls as he bites your neck and shoves up your skirt.

His hand cups your warmth over your panties, pressing a finger between your clothed folds. He rubs your center through your underwear, eliciting small moans from your mouth which he swallows with possessive kisses.

“You like it when I use you like this, don't you?” He breathes against your mouth. "Proving to you you're mine and mine alone.”

You nod and let out another moan when he pushes aside your panties and sinks his finger deep inside your wetness, curling it in just the right spot.

“Words, Miss Major.” The low voice calls.

"Yes, sir." You breathe, hoping you picked the right way to address him at this moment.

A second finger follows quickly after, pumping in and out at a steady pace. His other hand moves to your throat and he uses it to press you back against the desk. Your breath becomes laboured as he starts sucking on your neck, not doubting he's leaving a mark for everyone to see.

His head dips down and he bites at your breasts, wetting the thin material of your lacey bra. It stings as he sinks his teeth in you, but the soft layer of clothing between your flesh and his mouth eases the pain. The normally composed man acts like an enraged animal.

“As much as I like your little moans and whimpers, you're going to have to be quiet for me, love." He whispers in your ear while he momentarily lets go of you to work his own pants and underwear down. His cock looks almost painfully hard. "Can you do that for me?”

"Yes, sir." The words are no more than a soft murmur.

“That’s my good girl.” The professor groans as he aligns himself with your entrance, teasingly rubbing his tip along your folds.

When he starts to slowly slide inside of you, your eyes flutter shut and your back arches off the desk. You feel your walls stretch to accommodate the girthy intrusion as he keeps going deeper, not stopping until he's buried to the hilt inside. There's little time to adjust as he starts easing out of you, then rams back inside with a force that even makes the sturdy desk move forward a little.

His hand is back on your throat, the other pressing on your mouth tightly to make sure no sound can escape you. Another deep thrust follows, then another, before he speeds up to a blistering pace. Obscene sounds fill the small room as his hips slam against yours. He has to clench his jaw to not let throaty noises escape himself, still aware of the precarious location you're in.

You don't know how long you will last, already feeling your orgasm build in your core even though he hasn't even touched your clit yet. Muffled cries keep creeping from your covered lips.

“This is where you belong. Cumming on my cock as I show you who owns you.” He grunts as he keeps his merciless rhythm. “You. Are. Mine.” His gravelly voice calls, each word accentuated by a strong thrust of his hips.

The moment his hand leaves your mouth, you let out a shriek of pleasure as he uses the free fingers to pinch and rub your clit. His thrusts and your writhing slide you further over the desk until your head hangs off the edge. His own body folds over yours to fully pin you down, his forehead resting just above your navel.

Your eyes start to roll back in your head and your eyelids flutter shut at the sudden rush of blood towards your head and you let out a hoarse moan when he bites the soft flesh of your stomach. You feel your boots scrape against his sides as he keeps pounding into you, drawing you closer and closer to your orgasm.

“Fucking hell, cum for me Anne." Benedict groans. “Show me how much you like being my little slut. Cum now."

He doesn't have to tell you again. Waves of pleasure crash through you as you hit your release, eyes pressed closed tightly and hands searching for anything to hold onto but the smooth wood of the desk.

The professor follows quickly, his movements first speeding up to an impossible pace before he slams into you one last time, filling your needy pussy with his cum. There's a minute where the only sound in the room is the two of you panting over each other.

“Fuck." Benedict sighs, finally releasing your throat and propping himself up again. "How long have you been here?"

With your head still hanging over the edge of the desk, you slowly open your eyes, ready to chuckle at your professor’s question. Your rosy cheeks turn white in an instant when you look straight into Professor Hiddleston's eyes as he leans against the door to the office, staring at you with a face-splitting grin.

------------------

A/N: Thank you for reading <3 Your likes and comments make me incredibly happy, it's awesome to see people actually enjoying my silly little writing :)

Taglist: @littletigerspeaks2 @run-clever-boy

Chapter 10: Defiance

When you wake up, the large bed is empty except for yourself and a big, velvety pillow. A sliver of light breaks through a small crack between the curtains, making a soft glow appear on the furniture that decorates the room. Muted sounds of spattering water are coming from the door to the bathroom, which is slightly ajar. Steam seeps through the small gap and the smell of soap lingers faintly. 

The idea of you waking up in your professor's bedroom while he showers in the next room brings a smile to your face. It's insane. Can't be true. Shouldn't be true. And yet, here you are, tucked away under his crisp white sheets that smell of the aftershave you've gotten yourself acquainted with these past couple of weeks. 

You had a wonderful night’s sleep together, hugging each other close. You had laid on your side and he had wrapped his arm around you, tugging you against himself, nose buried in your hair. Feeling his strong body pressed against your own, you had fallen asleep within minutes, tired from all the night had brought.

Sudden silence as the shower is turned off pulls you out of your thoughts. It doesn't take long for the bathroom door to open and your professor to step out, a towel wrapped around him. The sight of the handsome man in nothing but the rectangular cloth makes your heart jump ever so slightly. It hangs low on his hips, revealing the hint of a V-line and his well defined muscular torso. He ruffles a hand through his wet curls as he walks towards you, smiling.

“Did I wake you?" He says in a soft voice.

“No, not at all." You manage, your voice close to a whisper.

He sits down next to you on the bed, you still nestled under the covers. One of his hands runs over your covered thigh absentmindedly.

“Are you alright, Anne?” The low voice asks, his brow furrowed slightly.

“I am, yes. I just woke up really." Your reply is paired with a luxurious stretch of your arms above your head and a sleepy smile.

"Good, good. No regrets yet?”

"God no.” You laugh. "Though I might skip my lecture with Professor Hiddleston next Monday.”

“Yeah, sorry about that whole thing.” He chuckles. “That will undoubtedly be awkward for a bit.”

“He'll get over it." You quip as you wink at your professor.

 Grinning, he leans down to plant a kiss on your lips. Little drops of water fall from his hair as he presses his lips against yours gently.

"Don't accept any invites to one-on-one meetings with him, though.” He huffs amusedly.

"Hmm, shouldn't I?” You hum against his lips between stolen kisses. "The meetings I had with my other professor turned out to be most effective. Very educational.”

The professor in question climbs on the bed, setting a knee on either side of you, effectively pinning you down. Your arms find their way around his neck and he lowers himself down to kiss you again, one arm sliding around your naked waist as he supports himself with the other. His skin is still a bit damp from the shower and his wet hair presses against your forehead, but you don't mind. He smells clean and fresh, and you wouldn't want to be anywhere else in the world than right here.

"I'll teach you so many more things, if you'd let me." He mumbles beneath his breath.

“You've said yourself I'm a very eager student."

"Good girl.” He groans as he lowers himself to kiss your chin, your neck, the top of your chest.

Goosebumps cover your skin as the cold, wet curls follow his warm kisses. Your professor lifts himself up for a bit and wiggles away the sheets that were still between you. Then he drops himself down again, trailing wet kisses from your sternum to your breasts. He sucks one nipple into his mouth as he uses his fingers to play with the other one, relishing in the small moans and cries that escape your mouth. Your hand finds the back of his head and you push him against yourself slightly, not letting go when he switches from one sensitive bud to the other.

“It's crazy how much you turn me on, love." The man groans against your skin as he works his way down, now kissing your tummy. "Seeing you naked in my bed, covered in tiny marks I left on you…” His kisses have reached your navel and are still going lower. "I just have to taste you again, right now.”

His words make you quiver underneath him, and you're sure he'll be met with a wet mess between your legs once his face gets low enough. You feel his tongue trace slow circles on your thigh, then the other, as he slowly works his way towards your wetness. A thought suddenly dawns on you and you quickly move your body away from him, sitting upright in the bed. He looks up at you utterly confused.

"I haven't taken a shower since yesterday.” You say with a worried look on your face.

His expression drops from worried confusion to amused relief.

"I don't care.” He sighs.

 "Since after… you… after you came inside of me." You say somewhat ashamedly.

“Oh…” His face still holds the amused look, but he does move to a sitting position himself. “That’s right. I forgot. Well, let's fix that, shall we.”

Swiftly, he scoops you out of the bed and starts walking towards the bathroom, losing his towel as he goes. You shriek and swat at him, but he doesn't seem to care.

“Me man. Clean woman." He grunts as he sits you down in the porcelain tub. The material is cold on your skin and you fold your arms over yourself on instinct.

The water is quite chilly as your professor starts running the bath, but it warms up quickly and surrounds you with a very welcome warmth. Squirting a dollop of soap into the tub, lavender smelling bubbles soon surround you. He squats down next to the bath and brings his face to level with yours.

"Take your time. I'll prepare us something else for breakfast since I can't eat you at the moment.” He winks. "Just call for me if you need anything.”

You nod at him thankfully. “Thank you. And I'm sorry."

“You have absolutely nothing to be sorry about." The man says as he presses a kiss to your forehead. “Now relax."

He rises again, standing in front of you in all his naked glory, before walking towards the door. It gives you some time to unashamedly stare at his toned behind and back. When he's fully out the door, you let yourself slump back, trying to make sense of how the hell you ended up in this Valhalla.

~*~

You'd been in the tub for about an hour, getting bored after a while without your phone or anything to read. Luckily, you had a lot to think about as you processed the events of last night. Not being able to vent to Maddie about any of this will be absolute torture.

The smell of sausage and eggs fills the dining room as your professor places an overloading plate in front of you. You’re not really a breakfast-person normally, but after all that happened, you’re famished. Eagerly digging in, you are once more amazed by your professor’s cooking. A simple dish like scrambled eggs tastes fucking spectacular.

For a little bit, the two of you eat in comfortable silence. Once again you're dressed in his sweats, the only other choice being your little black dress, which didn't seem like a comfortable option. He, however, is wearing his usual combination of slacks with a button-up shirt, making you feel slightly underdressed.

 “You can take those home if you want." He says as he gestures to you with his fork, apparently reading your thoughts. “I don't like the idea of you in an Uber in nothing but that dress."

“And here I was thinking it was one of your favourites."

“For me, yes. Others, not so much." Your professor says between bites.

“Bit possessive are we?" You say with a cheeky smile.

“I told you, I am greedy. I'll buy you whatever dress you want if I'm the only one that gets to see you take it off."

Though said casually, the words make you feel warm inside. No man has ever made you feel this wanted before. And here you are, with a man that could have any girl he lays eyes on, claiming you as his.

"I'm not looking for a sugar daddy, you know.” You chuckle as you eat your last bite of sausage. “I'm not letting you buy me stuff.”

“Just a regular daddy then?" He says in an intentionally low voice as he smoulders at you, raising one eyebrow.

"Ew, piss off!” You snort at the statement.

“Alright, alright. You don't have a daddy-kink, I got it." He cracks. "Just the Professor-kink then.”

“That's not fair, I came up to you when I didn't even know you were a professor yet.”

"Older man-kink?” He teases.

"No comment.”

Grinning widely, he stands up from his seat and collects the empty plates from the table to bring them to the kitchen. You follow him in, just as you had done last night, only now the tension is way less palpable. As he sets to work on putting away all the dishes from cooking, you hop yourself on the counter, watching him as he tidies up.

“You're good, right? Don't need any help?" You josh at him.

"Nope, I think I can handle this one by myself. Just stay there.” He retorts.

Starting to slide down the counter to help clean up, he quickly turns around to face you, brows furrowed. Tutting at you contemptly, he pushes you back down on the marble surface.

“What did I tell you? Stay." He softly says.

 "What if I don't want to stay?” Faintly you press back against his strong hands, trying to wiggle away.

His hands move to your wrists, holding you down to the marble tightly.

"Can you ever just do as you're told?”

"Doubt it.” There's a bit of a quiver in your voice that you're not willing to acknowledge.

“Me too." He chuckles. "But that's alright.”

Then, he leans into you, his voice raspy as he whispers in your ear.

"It's way more fun to break a girl that thinks she can't be broken, anyway."

His words send electricity through you, tingles fluttering your core at the dominant remark. He notices the effect he has on you, because of course he does, and smirks down at you as he pulls away. Letting go of your wrists, he looks at you conceited. Oh, how you want to wipe that smug smile off his handsome features.

“Now stay." His low voice commands.

Looking back at him defiantly, you decide today is not the day you will be listening to his every bidding. So, as he watches you, you lazily push yourself off the counter and slowly slide down. Both of you stare at each other for a little bit, neither of you willing to break eye-contact. His piercing stare pins you to the spot, and you watch his face change from a smug smile to one a lot more heinous. This must be what prey feels like right before the predator attacks.

And attack, he does. In a split-second you're turned around and pushed into the marble face first, his strong body fixing you to the cold stone. One hand tightly holds the back of your neck, driving your face roughly against the hard material underneath you. The other locks your wrists together behind your back. His hips press against your ass as he kicks your legs apart.

“I could really do with a lot less of that bratty attitude of yours, Miss Major.” He spits as he pushes down on you.

“I thought that's why you liked me, Professor." You manage to coax from your compromising position.

"It's why I'm going to fuck you until the only word you remember is my name.”

The gravelly voice sends your insides ablaze, a fire spreading all the way down to your needy center. Making the normally composed man lose his temper will be your personal mission from now on, you silently vow to yourself.

“Maybe I don't want you to fuck me right now." You breathe.

“Maybe I don't fucking care what you want." Your professor hisses as he pulls down your sweatpants just below your ass.

The hand on your wrists had let go to work your pants, but the elbow on the other arm immediately took its place. He presses you to the marble with one muscular arm, the other feeling around your thighs and ass, kneading roughly. When his hand finds your wet cunt, a moan escapes your mouth. Instantly he plunges two fingers deep inside of you, not bothering to check whether you’re wet enough. He knows the answer already.

“Yeah, sure feels like you don’t want any of this.” He mocks you as he curls his fingers inside your wetness, eliciting a cry from your lips.

A third finger enters you, stretching your walls as he thrusts them in and out of your body at a steady pace. You start to squirm beneath his touch.

“Christ, you get so wet when I treat you like the little fucktoy you are.”

His hand leaves your core abruptly to fumble with his belt. It takes mere seconds for him to get out of his own confinements and free his throbbing cock. He’s lined up behind you and you feel his dick slide between your folds. He doesn’t enter you yet though, instead lowering his face to meet your ear.

“Say my name.” The professor growls as he keeps you pressed tightly to the unforgiving marble.

Of course, you know his name. You’ve just never called him by it except once when you met and then again in a dark alley when you were so drunk you couldn’t even light a cigarette. He’d labeled you a brat for calling him Benedict then. Now, he’s forcing it out of you, wanting to hear it drip from your lips as a plea for mercy.

“I don’t recall.” You answer, smiling sheepishly, thrilled with your own defiant answer.

“Too bad.” He grits. “You’re going to have to scream it if you want to cum at all today.”

“I don’t need to cum.” Is all you manage to breathe.

“Sure you don’t.”

His hand returns to your entrance, his fingers finding their way back inside. You feel his hard cock pressed against your ass while he fingers you relentlessly. When his thumb slides up to your clit, your body starts betraying you, your walls clenching around his digits tightly.

“Fucktoys don’t need to cum, it’s a privilege.” He grunts as he keeps working your needy pussy. “But only good girls that scream my name get privileges.”

It’s all getting too much. Your orgasm is building rapidly, your body clenching and convulsing as you writhe beneath him. Who are you to deny yourself the release you’re so desperately craving? Still, you try one last time.

“I’m… I’m not a-” You try to defend yourself in vain, not able to form a coherent sentence anymore.

“Say my name.” He barks in a guttural tone.

“I-”

“NOW!” It’s as much a command to finally say the word he’s desperate to hear as for you to reach your long-awaited high.

“BENEDICT!” You scream as you finally topple over the edge. Toes curling and eyes rolling away as you clench around his fingers tightly, silently repeating his name over and over like a never ending mantra.

“There’s a good girl.” The man behind you sighs in a low voice as he now thrusts his cock inside of you, not stopping until he’s buried up to the hilt. “So fucking tight for me.”

He releases the grip on your wrists and places both hands on your hips, giving himself something to hold onto as he slams into you ruthlessly. Your thighs press against the border of the countertop, knees grazing the cabinets below, sure to leave their marks. You don’t even bother trying to lift yourself up, your body feeling like jelly. It’s as if you entered a new state of being, feeling him ram inside of you and savouring every moment of it, but at the same time being completely zoned out mentally. Just here to receive, to take, to do as he says. It’s a wonderful state of mind.

Your professor gropes for your shirt with one hand, clenching it in his fist as he chases his own climax. His thrusts turn erratic and he cums with a velocity you hadn’t felt before, folding over onto your back, hot liquid filling you up. It trickles down your legs as he slowly pulls out, combined with your own overflowing juices, leaving a sticky mess behind.

Still, you keep your body as is, not feeling any urgency or motivation to move yet. You’re not fully sure you’d be able to, if you’re honest. All your limbs feel heavy. You jump a little when you feel the wet cloth pressed against your skin, cleaning the inside of your legs and your abused pussy. Kisses start to be fluttered in replacement of the cloth, going all the way up your back and neck.

“You did so well.” Your professor whispers as he gently cradles you, wrapping you in his arms. The cool fabric of his dress shirt presses against your nose as he slowly rocks you against him, pressing kisses to your head.

The concept of time is lost on you as you stand in the kitchen together. He pets your hair, tenderly runs his thumb across your face, mumbles words of praise. When he feels like you’re up for it, he leads you out of the kitchen and up the stairs, silently and carefully undressing you in his bathroom. It’s not until you feel the hot water of the shower soothe your skin that you look back up at him again, meeting his warm gaze.

“Hey, there you are again.” He smiles kindly.

You press your nose to his now wet chest and let him hug you tight.

~*~

It feels weird, wearing your professor’s sweats in your own home. Combined with your black heels and trenchcoat, it was quite a sight as well. The Uber driver never said anything though, silently cruising you back into reality. When you entered your studio apartment, you immediately crashed down on your bed, not bothering to change.

You rake your hand through your silky feeling hair, which your professor - Benedict - had washed and combed through for you in the shower. He insisted on being called by his first name when you were together and no one else would hear. The shower had been weirdly intimate, even though mere minutes ago he had pounded you into oblivion. He had washed your body, taking care of any marks or bruises he had left behind by gently kissing them. Never before had a man touched you with so much affection.

After showering, he had helped you get dressed, though you complained and assured him you were able to pull a T-shirt over your head yourself. In reality, you were glad he was there to do it for you.

You rummage around your bed looking for your phone charger. It’s been dead since last night, as you forgot to charge it at Benedict’s house. Remembering the charger is still in your bag, you push yourself off the bed and make for the couch where you had dropped it. It’ll take a minute for your phone to be functioning again, so you decide to slump down on the couch and watch a bit of telly. You nuzzle your nose inside Benedict’s blue uni shirt, his smell mixed with your own.

Loud banging on your door jolts you awake. The dark sky outside tells you you’ve been asleep for most of the day. Hastily you get up off the couch and make your way to the door, revealing Maddie and Steve as you pull it open.

“Oh my God, you’re not dead!” Maddie yells as she bursts into your flat. Steve follows her in a bit more timidly, closing the door behind him.

“What? No, of course I’m not fucking dead.” You tell your best friend in a confused tone.

“Don’t you start with me! I haven’t heard anything from you since yesterday afternoon. And then when you didn’t show up at Liam and Chris’ tonight I was sure something had happened.” She cries out.

“I was supposed to be at Liam and Chris’?”

“Chris texted us about it this morning, Liam and him are throwing a party.”

“My phone was dead.” You state. 

“Why was it dead for so long?” She asks angrily. Then, looking you up and down, she scrunches her nose. “And what the hell are you wearing? When did you get more bloody uni merch?”

“It’s not mine.” You say defensively, immediately recognising your mistake.

“Who’s is it?!” Maddie exclaims, all anger replaced with excitement. “Is it a guy’s?”

“Yeah it’s male merch, the female merch is red and pink.” Steve chimes in, ever so helpful.

You glare at him and he stifles a laugh.

“It doesn't matter who’s it is.” You say.

“What’s his name?” Maddie prods.

“You don’t know him.”

“Just tell me!”

“It’s… it’s someone from the rugby team.”

“Then Steve knows him for sure.”

Oh, right. Fuck. You forgot about that.

“He wants to keep it a secret for now, we still have to figure out what this all is.” At least that’s not a lie, you think to yourself.

“You’re honestly not going to tell me?” Maddie asks disappointedly.

It’s tearing you apart to lie to her, to not spill everything that happened in the last twenty four hours. You just want to talk to her, to someone, about all that transpired between you and the professor you had been fantasizing about for weeks. But you don’t, keeping to your promise.

“I’m sorry.” You say, feeling defeated.

“It’s okay. I understand, I guess.”

Steve is the first to break the sorrowful silence. “So are you coming with us to Liam and Chris’ party then?”

After a moment's hesitation you decide not to disappoint Maddie again tonight and nod.

“Yeah sure, just give me a minute to get ready." 

------------------

A/N: Once again thank you for reading! 🫶

Taglist: @littletigerspeaks2 @run-clever-boy

Leave a comment or dm to join the taglist!

Chapter 9: Twofold

The bathroom is, of course, just as exquisite as the rest of the house. Though you feel perfectly comfortable in his presence, it’s nice to take a minute to yourself and away from your professor to gather your thoughts. He offered to draw you a bath (and you’ll definitely be getting in the stand-alone porcelain tub one day) but you opted for a nice warm shower instead. The fluffy towel after was comforting on its own. 

You feel renewed when you step out of the bathroom and back into the large, empty bedroom. The hardwood floors feel cool against your feet as you make your way over to the bed. Your professor has rearranged the sheets to look somewhat decent again and placed a neatly folded stack of clothes on top. He told you to take your time and come find him in the sitting room when you’re up to it. Getting into the gray sweatpants and blue university T-shirt, you smell your professor’s familiar scent on them, making you feel warm inside. 

Little creaks come from the stairs as you tiptoe your way down them, finally landing in the dimly lit hallway. You see light streaming from a half opened door and guess that’s where the sitting room must be. 

The entire room - the entire house, for that matter - has been furnished as if it were still Victorian times, with a modern touch here and there. Your professor looks up from his book when he notices you enter the room, promptly closing it and putting it away on the table beside him. He stands up and walks towards you, pulling you to him for a hug. His hand runs over your hair as he kisses you on top of your head.

“Everything alright?” He asks with a soft voice.

You nod against his chest, taking in the smell of him. He’s dressed in a T-shirt and sweatpants as well, matching your own attire. The two of you break out of the embrace and the professor walks you towards the couch next to the leather armchair he had been sitting in. He sits you down then gets back to the armchair himself. You’re surprised at the sudden distance, but when you see the serious look on his face, you understand there’s a reason for it. He looks like he's in full-on Professor-mode again.

“We should talk for a bit." He starts.

Nervously you fidget with your hands, not sure of what's to come.

“Nothing to worry about." Clearly he has noticed your uneasiness. “But important nonetheless."

You give him a nod. “Yes, okay. Go ahead."

“First of all, something I should have asked straight away; are you on birth control?"

 “I have a coil, yes." 

“Okay, that's good. And I assume you're clean? I know I am."

“Yes, I am."

He nods at you, happy about the answer.

“How do you feel about what we did tonight? Did you enjoy yourself?"

The question surprises you. Surely having two orgasms must have shown him you were enjoying yourself perfectly well.

"Uhm… Yeah, I did.” You answer hesitantly. “Obviously some things were new to me, but it was good. You were very good.”

His face is still serious when he says: “I'm not looking for compliments, love. I want your genuine opinion."

When you don't reply, he continues.

“I called you derogatory names. Tied your wrists together. Gave you rules and punishments. Made you beg for your orgasm. Call me sir.” His deep voice sounds as he lists everything up. The memories send joyful shivers through your body.

"Have you ever done any of that before?”

You shake your head, unsure what to say.

"What did you think of it?” He asks.

It takes you a minute to come up with your reply.

"Well, I've never been as wet as I was tonight.”

The serious face breaks apart to let out a chuckle.

"That I will take as a compliment."

He looks you over, running a hand through his hair.

"What we did tonight can be considered as soft BDSM. You're familiar with the term I presume?”

"Isn't BDSM supposed to be, like, hardcore sex with whips and chains and latex and stuff?"

A smile forms around his lips again.

“That's a bit of a misconception I'm afraid. There's a lot of layers to it."

“You're into that kind of stuff?" You ask with a surprised look on your face.

 “Well judging by tonight, so are you.” He jests.

Now it's your turn to knit your brows. Yes, you've always liked sex to be a little rough. You're no stranger to hairpulling, being held down, or light choking. Not as a punishment though, only as… Well, you don't know exactly. It just feels good to give away a bit of control sometimes.

"I don't know.” You say.

"I'd like to explore it further with you if you are open to it. I think we could have a very good time together.”

Fuck, that does sound intriguing. More time with your professor is something you long for either way. But to also dive into a newly discovered world of sex? Ecstatic.

“What would we do?"

The question hangs in the air for a little while before he answers, leaning back into the chair.

"There’s a special form I'd ask you to fill out. It tells me your likes and limits, things I should take into consideration while playing. And it gives you insight into your own interests as well.”

The quizzical look on your face is answered by a kind smile. “But we can also just talk about it together. Find out what we'd both like to explore.”

“Do you have anything particular in mind? That you would like to ‘explore’?” You ask, making air quotes as you speak the last word.

"I do, yes.” He chuckles.

You feel how your heartbeat increases slightly at his words.

“You've thought about it before?”

"Ever since I first laid eyes on you, to be totally honest.”

An audible swallow preludes your next question.

"So… What have you been thinking about?”

The professor smiles at you and leans forward to reach for your hand. With his thumb lazily stroking the back of your hand, he looks at you amused as the low baritone leaves his mouth.

“How I would like to tie you down, hands and feet each secured to one of the posts of my bed, leaving you totally at my mercy.” There's a twinkle in his eye and his voice turns soft. “Or our mercy for that matter."

“Our?!" Promptly you pull back the hand he had been stroking.

“Mostly I'm a greedy man, but I'm open to sharing once in a while as well." The statement rolls off his tongue casually.

Furrowing your brows again, you stare at him dubiously.

"Who'd be the other man?”

"I think you know.”

"Fucking hell.” You sigh.

Both of your professors at the same time? You can't say you haven't thought about it, masturbated to the very idea even. But never had you thought it a possibility to turn the fantasy into reality.

“Have you done that before then? ‘Shared’ women?" You ask, already knowing the answer.

As you had expected, your professor nods.

“Not often, but it has happened, yes. And it has been a very pleasurable experience for all parties involved every time."

A thought suddenly dawns on you, making your eyes grow wide.

"Have you discussed this with him already?”

An amused grin now paints his handsome features as he leans back in the chair.

“Maybe."

“When?"

“After you started to come into uni dressed like a slut."

At this you let out a frustrated huff, which is answered by an even more entertained look on your professor’s irritably handsome face.

“It’s not something you have to decide right now. Just something to think about. Besides, I don’t mind keeping you to myself either.”

Taking both of your hands into his own he hauls you off the couch towards him, pulling you in his lap. You fold your legs over one of the arms of the chair and lie your head against his chest. Stroking your back and thigh, the professor rests his chin atop your head. Absent-mindedly you run your finger over his chest. Though you've only been in his close proximity for a couple of hours, it feels natural.

"He told me he had ‘noticed me too’, you know. In the campus cafe this afternoon."

“Well, he did. That night in the pub."

 You look up at him confused. When you don't speak, he continues.

 "He wanted to go up to you, but I convinced him not to. You were way too young and way too drunk.”

"And then I came up to you…"

“And then you came up to me."

"Is that why you turned me down? Because of him?”

"Partly. The young and drunk argument was still valid too."

“Now I feel bad…”

"Don't.” Your professor scoffs. "He went home with some other girl about an hour later. It would have been a quick fuck and then a very awkward semester for the both of you. He's my friend, but he's also a dick.”

"Funny, he said the same about you." A smile forms around your lips.

“I bet." He grins. "He's been wanting to get into your pants for weeks. The whole student-Professor thing doesn't bother him as much.”

“But it bothers you?"

“Less than I thought it would."

At this, he bends down to kiss your forehead, then your nose, eventually landing on your lips. You return his kiss, opening your mouth to accept his tongue. It's a gentle, tender, passionate kiss that makes you weak in his arms.

“And in a way, it's pretty hot too." He confesses when he breaks away from you, now kissing your cheekbone.

A sly smile paints your face. “Yeah?”

"Hmhm.” He sighs in your ear. “Forbidden fruit and all.”

You moan as he softly nibbles on your ear, pressing your body against his. A strong hand runs down your back and lands on your ass.

"How's the pain? Any bruises from the spankings?" His breath is hot on your skin as he keeps working your neck.

“N-No, I don't think so." You manage to get out between rugged breaths.

"I'll have to try harder next time then.”

He grips you more tightly and moves you to place one leg on either side of his hips, straddling him in the leather chair. Delicately he works his way down your neck, pressing kisses along your jawline, ending back up at your lips. His hands run up your thighs and waist, slipping under the shirt you're wearing. The feeling of his skin against yours is electric, and you inadvertently start to grind down on him, looking for friction.

Both his hands cup your breasts, kneading the soft flesh. When his fingers find your nipples, a groan escapes your mouth, encouraging him to go on. You reach down and pull the shirt over your head, exposing yourself to him for the second time that night. Removing the shirt made you break the kiss, and his head now plunges down to suck on your nipples, taking turns between right and left. Your hand finds its way in his curly hair, gently pressing his head down on yourself as you keep slowly grinding down your hips. His pants are starting to get a little tighter underneath you and you relish in the effect you're having on the man.

“So what would have happened if I hadn't been so drunk the night we met?” You ask, your voice hoarse from excitement.

“I would have fucked you right there against the bathroom wall.” The deep voice calls.

Both his strong hands feel their way across your body, squeezing and nipping your skin as they go. His head is back on your neck, wet kisses leading their way up. It's getting harder for you to talk, but that doesn't stop you.

“Even though your friend called dibs?"

"You're right.” He chuckles humourlessly. "We would have fucked you together.”

Your breath hitches in your throat at his words. One of his hands disappears into your sweatpants. Seeing how your bag was still waiting downstairs and the lacy thong didn't really seem like a comfortable option, you're not wearing any underwear. Running his finger through your wet folds makes a smirk appear on his face.

"Have you ever been fucked by two men at the same time?” His voice rumbles through you as he lazily rubs his thumb on your clit.

Lightning shoots through your spine at his touch.

You're taking too long to reply to his liking, so he growls in your ear: "Answer me.”

“Not yet." You muster.

"Good girl, that's right.” His voice sounds. “Not tonight though. For now, you're mine."

Moving your hips you eagerly press yourself on his newly formed hard-on.

“Of course, he is a very handsome man…” You whisper, bringing your own head down to his neck to plant kisses on his skin.

Your professor sneaks a hand into the roots of your hair and pulls you back slightly so you are forced to look at him. His eyes narrow at you and his jaw tightens. An undeniable tremble comes through in your voice when you talk.

“And I can't say I haven't thought about what he would look like if I were on my knees before him.”

Possessively, he grabs onto you, pulling you closer against his body. He digs his nose into your neck and goosebumps form across your skin when he presses firm kisses and nips to your figure. Marking you his.

You're not stopping now, though. Finally you feel as if you've regained a hint of control. And the entire conversation turned you on tremendously. The idea of these two men claiming your body sends a burning sense of need all the way down to your core. Your voice is now more breath than sound.

“Is his cock bigger than yours? Or should I ask him myself?”

“Don't play games with me." Your professor’s raspy voice breathes against your ear.

"I'm not playing.”

Strong hands are gripping your thighs so firmly you're sure you'll see bruises tomorrow. His hard cock presses against your ass as you grind down on him. Kisses have been exchanged for bites as he covetously tries to get back in control, nipping at your neck. A moan escapes your mouth and it's all he needs to regain full command of the situation.

“Of course a slut like you would moan at the thought of two men having their way with her.” His deep baritone rumbles through you.

One hand finds its way back into your pants right at your entrance, a finger sliding in with ease. You throw your head back when he enters a second digit, making you moan before him.

“So fucking wet and needy… I hope you understand you are playing with fire here. You're going to get yourself burned." He says. You tremble from both his touch and words.

"I think you’re all smoke and no flames.” You manage to speak.

Apparently, that did the trick. Your professor stands up while holding you in his arms, your legs wrapped around his waist. He throws you down on the couch and is immediately on top of you, hands kneading and squeezing your boobs so hard you know they'll show his marks tomorrow.

In one swift motion he yanks down your pants and shoves two fingers back inside your wanting pussy. He pumps them in and out of you at an incredibly fast pace, making you squirm on the cold leather under you. His thumb slides forwards to find your clit, rubbing it roughly, eliciting more moans and cries from you as you feel your climax start to build.

“My God, Anne, are you going to cum for me again already? Are you really that desperate?” He taunts you. “Getting all worked up at the idea of two of your professors fucking you?"

You're nothing but a whimpering mess before him now, moving your hips in motion with his fingers to get every single inch of his digits inside of you.

“You know what." His voice is breathy and riddled with lust, but there's something else in there you can't quite place. "I don't think I should be the only one that enjoys this orgasm of yours. I'm not the only contributor after all.”

His free hand moves away to roam around the small table next to the chair, landing on his phone. His other hand is still working your core relentlessly, whining sounds escaping your mouth as he draws you closer to your orgasm.

Your eyes widen as he seems to dial a number, but it's hard to focus on anything other than the hand that's bringing you to your next climax.

“Remember, ‘red’ or pinky finger." He whispers as he lays the phone down on your chest. It rings twice before being picked up.

“Ben, mate, what are you calling me for? Aren't you supposed to be on your playdate with little Miss Major?"

You almost let out a moan when you hear Professor Hiddleston's familiar voice coming from the speaker. The fingers keep moving in and out of you at a steady pace.

“I am, yes." Professor Cumberbatch answers his friend. His voice is low but completely under control, not a hint of his arousal to be heard. “In fact, she's here with me right now."

There's a pause on the other end.

"So why are you calling me?”

"I thought you should know this eager little student has been having some very naughty thoughts about the both of us.”

Another pause, then a deep sigh followed by silence.

“Ben…”

"Anne, say hello to Professor Hiddleston for me please.” Your professor says in a stern voice.

Right as you gather yourself to try and muster a small hi, Professor Cumberbatch presses a third finger inside you, making the only sound from your mouth become a loud cry and ‘Fuuuck….’.

“She's so close to cumming around my fingers, Tom.” The man that's hovering over you says as if nothing happened. "But I think I'd rather feel her clench around my cock again as I fill her up this time. You should stay on the line while I fuck her. She makes the most amazing sounds. Stick around and you’ll hear her moan as she cums for the third time tonight.”

Hearing him talk about you as if you're not even there is driving you up the wall, in the best sense possible. There's some rustling on the other side of the line and you're pretty sure Professor Hiddleston is now handling himself while listening to you and your other professor. The thought of that makes your breath hitch.

Professor Cumberbatch removes his fingers from your wetness and a moan escapes you. Quickly he undoes himself of his sweats and shirt, stroking himself in strong movements the moment his member is freed. Within seconds he's on top of you again, rubbing the head of his cock between your folds, pressing you down into the couch with a firm hand on your chest.

“Beg me for it, Anne. Let Professor Hiddleston hear how you beg for my cock like a good fucking girl." He spits at you, glowering into your eyes.

You want to defy him. Show him you're better than this. That you don't need him to enter you and make you cum. It's futile; there's nothing else in the world right now except for the two men talking over you and your professor’s dick pressed against your needy entrance. So you beg.

"Please, professor.” You manage, the words close to a cry. “Please fuck me.”

“Did you hear that, Tom?" He says in a low voice.

The other professor replies for the first time in a while, his voice breathier than usual. "I think she can do better.”

Professor Cumberbatch raises his eyebrows at you as an amused smirk forms on his face.

“You heard the man." He breathes. “Go on."

The look of disbelief on your face is soon replaced by one of desperation when your professor pushes the tip of his cock inside of you, giving in just ever so slightly to what you so hopelessly need.

"Please, please fuck me.” You plead with both men. "I need it, please, I need it so bad. Please would you fuck me. Please I jus-”

During your last plea the professor slams himself inside you with one strong thrust, making you cry out and whimper. A throaty sound escapes him as well at the new sensation. He fills you up so well, stretching your walls, it's almost too much to handle. Then he starts to move, and the only thing you can do is wrap your legs around his waist to try and get more of him. He never breaks eye contact as he starts taking you, still talking to the phone.

“You would love her pussy, Tom. She's so tight around me." Your professor tells his friend as he starts to slowly move his hips, bringing himself all the way back then plunging in deep again. “But she takes my cock incredibly well. She barely needs any warm-up, practically dripping wet the moment I touch her.”

"Could she take both of us at the same time?” Professor Hiddleston grunts. You don't know if his voice is raspy because of the phone connection or because of his excitement.

“Absolutely, with a little training. We could stretch her tight little pussy out together.”

Together? As in, both at the same time? You had never even considered the possibility of something like that, but the thought alone sends you right back to the edge. Your professor speeds up his pace as he feels your walls start to clench around him, slamming into you mercilessly as you whimper underneath him. Professor Hiddleston lets out a deep groan too as he hears the noises that you are producing at the hands of his friend.

Professor Cumberbatch’s hand finds your clit and you're not sure how long you can last before you will reach your upcoming release. You close your eyes but are met with a soft tap on the face as your professor bids you to open them again.

“Keep your eyes on me." His tone is riddled with lust and need but is also soft, caring even. "I need you with me for this.”

There’s nothing more coming from you than moans, cries and whimpers as he keeps fucking you into the couch. Your hands are grabbing at his chest and arms, desperately looking for anything to hold onto. You’re almost there, trying your hardest not to spill over yet, keeping your eyes trained on his. The twinkle in your professor’s eyes is back when he speaks again while panting over you.

“Sorry mate, changed my mind. This one’s mine.” He says as he ends the call and throws his phone to the chair behind him.

Immediately he bends down, pulling you tightly against him with one strong arm behind your back, the other hand still rubbing your clit. He speeds up his thrusts and is basically hammering into you now. His breath is hot on your neck as you hear him whisper in your ear.

“Cum for me now, Anne.”

There’s no holding back anymore as you instantly topple over the edge, letting out guttural sounds as your body spasms against his. He keeps fucking you through it, slowing his thrusts a little to let you ride your high. Then he speeds up again, and to your surprise, his hand is also back on your clit.

“I think you have one more in you.” He breathes against your skin.

Shit, do you? You’re spent already, heaving and gasping for air as you come down from your climax, never fully landing because of the hand that’s still working your clit.

“I- I don’t…” You stammer, not able to fully form a coherent thought or sentence.

He lifts his head to look at you, his eyes dark but warm at the same time.

 “One more for me.” He whispers.

 Foggy-minded you nod at him, encouraging him to get back to his relentless thrusting pace as he keeps rubbing your clit. You’re not sure whether it’s pain or pleasure when you writhe and squirm under him, overstimulated at his touch. He bends down to kiss your neck again, planting sloppy kisses all the way up to your ear, making you quiver as he breathes on you hotly.

And then – he was right. It’s the most intense orgasm you’ve ever had, making you twitch and convulse in his arms as he works you through it once again, lifting his head to gaze into your dazed eyes. Your body almost goes limp as he smiles down at you, his face contorting somewhat when you feel him spill his cum inside you. Both of you now panting, slumping down against each other.

His body is heavy on top of yours, but you don’t mind. You fold yourself around him, hugging him tightly against yourself, relishing in afterglow.

------------------

A/N: I hope you're enjoying this story ❤️ As always thanks for comments and likes, they're highly appreciated and keep me going!

Taglist: @littletigerspeaks2 @run-clever-boy

Leave a comment or dm to join the taglist!

Chapter 8: Release

As you come down from your climax, your professor’s words finally seem to reach your ears. 

“What did you say?” You breathe, barely managing to get the words out.

His face shows a hint of amusement as he stares at you. “And that’s three.”

The high finally seems to leave your body and you gather yourself again, running your hands over your face as you understand the implication of what he’s said.

“Fuck, I’m sorry.” You say softly. Panicking as you realise your mistake, you call out: “Sir! I’m sorry, sir.”

“That’s better.” He responds, still grinning down at you from his standing position.

“I’ve never done that before, it kinda caught me off-guard, sir.” The words leave your mouth in no more than a whisper.

“Done what? Orgasmed?” The man furrows his brow.

You let out a quiet chuckle. “I have had orgasms before, but not like that. Not while someone was… down there with his mouth. Sir.” You’re almost ashamed to say the words out loud.

A look of disbelief paints his features as he frowns. He moves to sit next to you on the edge of the bed and helps you sit up, pulling you against his side, his hand stroking your head and running through your hair. His skin is warm and you realise you haven’t touched his body before, just his face and hands. It’s nice to feel him against yourself.

“No one has ever made you cum while going down on you?” He asks in a soft voice.

You shake your head and feel your face flush again. He places a hand on your cheek and turns your head to look at him instead of your fidgeting hands on your lap.

“They’re bloody idiots then.”

He places a gentle kiss on your forehead as he pulls you tighter against him, hugging you close. The man moves to press his lips to yours, and you taste yourself on him as your mouth opens to receive his tongue. It’s a new sensation to you but not one you dislike.

Your professor kisses you harder and moves a hand over your back, the other landing on your outer thigh. You’re not exactly sure how it happened, but with one strong motion he moves you on top of him, knees next to his hips, making you straddle him. He pulls your chest against his own and his hands move all over your back and ass, grabbing and softly slapping the latter now and then as the kiss deepens. You let your own hands roam over his body, feeling his hot skin and firm muscles as you go.

His hands move to your hips and he pushes you down on him. You feel his erection clearly through his pants and move a little to rub yourself against him. Both of you moan as you meet to grind into each other, enjoying the friction you’re creating.

One of your professor’s hands moves towards your center and within record time he has found your clit again, his thumb rubbing it at an unrelenting pace straight away. You shiver and moan against him, breaking the kiss, and he takes the momentum to gently sink his teeth into your exposed neck. A groan escapes your lips as he sucks and nibbles on your neck, already building up tension in your core again.

With a hoarse voice your professor breathes into your ear: “Has anyone ever punished you?”

You squirm as his hot breath covers your ear and shake your head nervously. He’s still grinding up against your entrance and pushing you down on him at your waist.

“Words, Anne. Don’t make me repeat myself again.” His gruff voice sounds.

“N-No sir.” You manage to stammer.

“There’ll be a lot of firsts for you today then.”

A shiver travels through your body as he speaks the words. You know he had set some rules, and you know you broke them. Is he implying there will be actual consequences to your disobedience?

“Stand up.” He commands.

You shuffle yourself back a bit and get up from the bed, standing before him. His strong hands glide over your waist, stomach and breasts as he looks at you, then down at the spot you had been grinding against. A dark wet patch has formed on his pants and you blush as you realise what it is.

“Look at the mess you made.” He says with a stern, low voice.

He gets up from the bed, towering over you. One arm presses you against him, the other taking your chin in his hand to make you look into his eyes. His thumb moves over your lower lip and he softly forces your mouth open, pushing his thumb between your lips. Immediately you close your lips around his finger and gently suck on it.

He bows down his head and whispers in your ear: “You’re such a needy little slut for me.”

A jolt of arousal flows through your body and you feel yourself get weak in his arms. He lets go of you and you have to do your best to keep standing upright. Then he nods towards the bed.

“Get on the bed on all fours, face towards the headboard.”

 Your eyes widen at him in disbelief, his own widening back in warning. Hastily you make for the bed, climbing in and ending up on your hands and knees. You feel exposed and press your legs together to try and hide somewhat of yourself.

Two rough hands land on your thighs and work your legs apart, pulling your body to the edge of the bed so your feet are hanging in the air. His hand presses against your wet slit, a finger feeling his way between your folds.

“You’re practically dripping already.” Your professor groans.

His hands leave your body and you hear the sound of his belt unbuckling behind you. Nervously you lip your licks.

“Lay down on your chest and put your arms behind your back.” His deep voice orders.

You hesitate for a second, but then oblige and lay yourself down, resting your hands behind you. He takes your wrists into his hand and you feel the cool leather from the belt wrap around them. Professor Cumberbatch tightens the belt until your wrists are secure and you can’t move your arms anymore. His voice is low and has a strict tone to it when he speaks again.

“I set three rules for you, and you broke all of them immediately.” He begins. “Good girls get rewards. Bad girls that disobey get punished.”

One of his hands caresses your ass. With the other, he leans on your back, pushing you further into the mattress.

“You took your reward without being granted it. That’s disobedience in itself as well.” His voice sounds from behind you.

“Normally, I'd give you five spanks per broken rule. But since it's your first time, we’ll do four per rule only.” He states. “That means I'm going to spank you twelve times, and you're going to count them with me. If you don't count, I'll repeat it until you do. Understood?"

Your voice sounds a bit muffled as the side of your head is pressed into the mattress, but you get the words out nonetheless. "Yes sir.”

“Good girl. If you do well, I'll reward you by freeing your hands and turning you onto your back so you can watch me fuck the living shit out of you after.” He breathes. "If not, I'll keep you like this and fuck you from behind, so you won't even know what the cock you are going to cum around looks like.”

Your body slightly trembles at his words. No one has ever talked to you like this before. No one has made you feel like this before.

You feel him walk away from behind you and he squats down at the side of the bed, leveling his head with yours, darkened eyes staring into your own.

“The safe word is ‘red’. Say it, and I'll stop immediately. If you feel like you can't talk, stick out your pinky." He says softly. “Confirm please."

You nod. “The safe word is ‘red’, or I'll stick out my pinky, sir.” You whisper.

He smiles at you warmly and gently tucks a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Will it hurt, sir?" You ask nervously.

"I should think so, yeah.” He chuckles a little. “Its a punishment. But I'm sure you can take it.”

You nod at him and he gives you a wink before standing up straight again. Your professor moves himself to stand behind you. One of his hands tenderly strokes your ass, the other holds the belt and pulls on it slightly.

“Don’t forget to count.” His voice rumbles as he lifts away his hand from your ass, then forcefully smacks it.

You let out a shriek of pain as his hand lands on your cheek.

“One!" You call out, not daring to defy him now.

His hand lands again, this time on the other cheek.

"Two!” You manage, waiting for the next blow to hit.

At six, tears start to well up in your eyes. When you try to move away on the bed, he pulls you tightly to him with the belt. Nine, and you feel like you'll never be able to sit down again. Is this when you use your safeword? Even though the pain is getting to a point where you’re not sure you can take it anymore, you decide not to stop him. You want to be good for him, after all. Your professor doesn't seem to hold back as he delivers blow after blow.

“TWELVE!" You finally shout, tears streaming down your face as you slump into the mattress.

His hands softly caress your reddened skin. The man behind you undoes the belt from your wrists. He lays himself on the bed next to you, pulling your body against his own. To your surprise, your first instinct isn't to pull away, but to get closer to him. He hurt you, made you cry out in pain, and still you want to feel him hug you tightly.

"You did so well for me.” Your professor whispers as he places tender kisses on your face and strokes your hair.

You bury your face in his chest as you let the tears come out. It's not so much the pain that's making you cry. All the built up tension seems to flow out of you at the same time. His lips keep pressing kisses to your head.

"Now, for your reward.” He says softly as he moves you on your back. A hiss escapes your mouth when your butt presses into the mattress. The tears have stopped falling from your eyes and you look up at him.

Your professor wipes away the last watery streaks on your face with his thumb. His other hand finds its way to your center. He gives you a grin as he rubs his fingers between your folds, sinking two of them inside with ease. You let out a moan at his touch.

“Feel how wet you are, Anne." His husky voice sounds. “Such a needy little plaything."

You bring a hand down to your core and are surprised by the wetness you encounter. Has this actually turned you on? He hurt you, hit you, and you're the wettest you've ever been?

"Keep your hand there and play with yourself for me. Eyes on me.” He commands.

Gingerly you run your fingers through your slit before sinking one inside of yourself, using the other hand to rub your clit. Any feeling of embarrassment of your current exposure to the man has gone out the window. The professor gets off the bed and kicks off his shoes, then starts undoing his pants. Even if you'd wanted to, you can't tear your gaze away from his body. He relishes in your lustful stare as he slowly undoes the button and zipper, finally dropping the clothes to the ground.

He's now standing in front of you wearing nothing but a pair of grey boxer shorts. You gasp a little when you see the outline of his prominent erection through the underwear.

“Do you want to do the honours or shall I?” He asks with a smile on his face.

You can't tell if he's nervous or just very excited, but there's a slight quiver in his voice. You can't wait to get your hands on him, though, so you hastily make your way to the end of the bed, sitting on your knees before him. No longer are you thinking of the pain he inflicted on you. Everything has made way for pure excitement once again.

“Can I touch you, sir?" You ask.

He smiles down at you. “Please do."

Eagerly you run your hands up his sides and down his torso, feeling your way around his muscles. You stop at the waistband of his boxers and look up at him, as if to ask for permission. He gives you a nod and you hook your fingers in the fabric, working it down his legs. His cock springs free from its confinement and you press your head against his belly, stifling a laugh.

“What's wrong?" He asks wearily.

“Of course it's fucking huge!" You cry out as you look back up at him.

“Fucking hell, stop scaring me like that." He laughs as he bends down to kiss you. “Never take off a man’s underwear and then laugh at him. Matter of fact, never take off another man’s underwear but mine ever again, period.”

As you kiss, you let your hands run up his thighs, finally folding your fingers around his shaft. His breath hitches and he forgets to kiss back as you gently stroke him, going up and down his entire length. He lets out a throaty sound when you speed up a little. Your finger grazes his tip and spreads the drop of precum around, making him moan before you.

You gently press a kiss under his belly button, then lower, slowly working your way down. He places a hand on the back of your head and lightly pulls your hair down, making you look up at him.

"You don't have to do that.” He says softly.

"But I want to. Sir.” You say as you lower your head and run your tongue along his cock.

He shudders beneath your touch and it sends a feeling of pride through you. You know you're good at this. All you did was lick him, and now the stern, statuesque man is quivering at your touch. You take the head into your mouth and slowly draw circles around it with your tongue before sinking down deeper. The hand on your head grabs on to your hair, lightly pushing you further, but isn't pressing you down.

Eagerly you take more of him into your mouth and throat, trying to get as much of him down as you possibly can. He starts to buck his hips and you decide to plain out ask him for what you want. He groans as you release him from your mouth but you immediately start pumping his shaft with your hand, looking up at him.

“Would you please fuck my mouth, sir?" You ask with a breathy voice.

Your professor doesn't need to be asked twice as he grabs onto your hair with both hands and pushes his cock into your mouth again, holding your head in place. Then he starts to move, slowly at first, building up speed when he notices you can take it. He keeps his piercing eyes trained on your face as he moves his hips at a fast pace, almost spilling over when you look back up at him. Tears are falling from your eyes again, but you don't mind. You hear him curse under his breath as he claims your throat. The movements stall and he holds your head as he pushes himself further into your mouth and throat, groaning above you when your nose hits his pubic bone. He yanks your head back by your hair and pushes you back down on the bed. He rummages through his pants on the floor and pulls out a condom. Your heart jumps, even though you knew this was coming.

“You're way too good at that.” He grunts as he climbs on the bed himself.

“I've had practice, sir." You say with a coy smile.

"Don't remind me.” His voice is low and deep, close to a growl.

Your professor rolls the condom down his shaft and pulls you towards him with two strong hands. He runs his fingers through your pussy, pumping in two of them with ease.

“Are you ready for me?" He asks, the words not much more than a breath.

You nod, both excited and nervous. "Yes, sir.”

“This isn't going to take half as long as I'd want it to.” He sighs as he aligns himself with your entrance.

Slowly he pushes himself in, not stopping until his hips meet yours, making you feel incredibly full. Your walls stretch around him and the sensation alone makes the familiar heat build up in your core. He gives you time to adjust to his thick cock and you gasp for air when he starts to move. It's a leisurely pace at first, getting you accustomed to him, but then he picks up speed. It doesn't take long for him to be ramming into your needy body, making you shiver and moan with every long stroke.

“You take me so fucking well, such a good little slut you are.” The man grunts as he pounds into you.

The professor lifts up both your legs and rests them on his shoulders, slamming inside of you even deeper. You cry out screams of pleasure as he fucks you relentlessly, feeling your walls clench around his cock at every deep thrust. He bends down to you, practically folding you in half, and kisses you with a passion you've never been kissed with before. He grabs your wrists and pins them above your head, the familiar feeling sending shivers down your spine. His other hand makes its way down to your center and finds your clit, making you moan and writhe underneath him.

He must feel the tightening of your walls around him, because he groans: “Beg me for it, Anne. Look into my eyes and beg me to let you cum around my cock like a fucking whore."

You don't have to be told twice and you start pleading with him immediately, begging for your release. Never before has a man turned you into such a whimpering mess. He continues his merciless pace and rubs your clit so expertly you think he could write a book on the matter. His eyes are dark and filled with lust as he watches you squirm beneath him, begging to cum.

“Cum for me, now!” He finally grunts.

Your entire body seems to implode around him as your pussy squeezes tight, then at last releases. The orgasm thunders through your being as if you never came before. You feel his movements change from steady to erratic, and it doesn’t take long for his hips to start bucking into you frantically as he reaches his own high, spilling himself inside of you.

Your professor releases you from his grip and drops your legs back down as he lowers himself to you, pressing his forehead against yours. With closed eyes you’re both panting, enjoying each other's touch, not ready to break the spell yet.

After what feels like eternity, he presses a light kiss to your nose, then to your lips, and rolls away from you. You immediately feel empty without him, cold air hitting the wet mess between your legs, and let out a deep sigh. He pulls you tightly against him, showering you with kisses and praise. Telling you how well you did, how amazing it was. The words bring tears to your eyes and they start falling down your cheeks, releasing all tension that had built up in the last couple of weeks.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know why I’m crying.” You say between sniffs.

“That’s okay. Just let it all out.” He comforts you. “Do you want to take a shower? Together or alone, either way is fine. Everything is fine.” His voice is soothing and sends a warm feeling through you.

You lay together for God knows how long, enjoying the embrace. You turn to lay on your back. As you take in your surroundings for the first time, it finally dawns on you what just happened. You run a hand over your face as you let out a chuckle, staring up at the ceiling.

“I just got fucked by my professor.” You state, the craziness of it all dawning on you.

“Bloody hell, I just fucked my student.” He retorts, just as dazed.

“Not only that, you spanked me for crying out loud!”

“Well, you deserved it.” The man next to you states, a wide grin plastered on his face.

You squint your eyes at him. “Are you going to do that again?”

“Do you want me to?”

“I don’t know.”

“We’ll see. There’s plenty of fun to be had with punishments. Spanking is just one of the options.”

“Hmpf.” You huff. Then, in a shy voice, you ask: “But you want to sleep with me again?”

Your professor turns his head to you, his brow furrowed. “I told you that if you came to my house tonight, you’d be mine.” He runs his thumb over your cheek. “I’m not letting you go that easily.”

Your face flushes at his words.

“Now then.” He says as he sits up and starts to climb out of the bed. “Time to get you in the shower.”

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A/N: Damn it took a while, but they finally got to it! I hope to see you in the next chapter :)

Taglist: @littletigerspeaks2 @run-clever-boy

Leave a comment or dm to join the taglist!

Chapter 7: Lucky

A/N: A bit of a longer chapter, but I hope you enjoy nevertheless. I created a floorplan of his home to give you a general idea of the house.

It’s 17:29h when you close the door behind you and walk down the two flights of steps that lead to your flat. You packed a small bag with just the necessities - toothbrush, underwear, phone charger - in case you happen to spend the night. Your heart is racing in your chest as you pull the trenchcoat over yourself, trying to hide your dress for the general public. The shower you had was soothing and made you relax ever so slightly. You shaved everything you deemed necessary, wanting to look your best for your professor. After scrubbing your body rigorously, you washed your long hair, which you blow-dried after. To finish everything off you put on your nicest body lotion, making you smell like cinnamon and vanilla. Nervously fidgeting with your hands, you wait for the car to pick you up. As you see the Toyota pull up, you realise you're at the point of no return.

The ride over to your professor’s house is uneventful but tense nonetheless. He hasn’t texted you since this afternoon. You looked up his address on Google Maps, though, and found out he lives in a very posh part of town. Not something you’d expect from a professor per se. The scenery glides by as you get closer to your destination. When you recognise the street name on one of the signs outside, your heart jumps. No more than a minute later the Uber comes to a halt, indicating you have reached your professor’s home.

As you climb the couple of steps to the large green door, you take in the prestigious building in front of you. There’s no neighbours adjacent to the house, making the tall structure even more impressive. You hesitantly raise your hand to ring the brass doorbell, shaking a little as you press the button.

Your professor opens the door with a warm, genuine smile on his face. You haven’t seen this look on him before, you realise, and your nerves start to fade a bit. He’s more than the stern man you’ve gotten acquainted with after all. He's dressed in a navy suit, looking even more handsome than you thought possible.

“It’s so lovely to see you, Anne. Please come in.” Your professor says as he steps aside and makes way for you to pass over the threshold.

You enter the house and take in your surroundings. The hallway you’re in is very light, sunlight streaming in from the skylight above. Checkered floors lead to traditional white patio doors.

The door closes behind you and it dawns on you that you’re alone at your professor’s house. No one to interfere, no one to knock on the door and break the spell. There’s no grabbing you or pushing you against the door though. Or, not yet.

“Can I take your coat and bag?” The professor asks from behind you.

You turn around and give him a shy smile before handing him the bag, then removing the garment. As requested, you are wearing the black dress you’d worn the day you’d met at the pub. Black sheer tights are trying their hardest to cover somewhat of your long legs, and the black heels on your feet complete the picture.

Your professor looks you over, the kind smile never leaving his features.

“You look absolutely ravishing.” He says in a soft voice.

You hand him your coat as you feel your cheeks start to flush. He puts it away together with your bag. Looking down at your fidgeting hands, you say: “Thank you.”

He closes the distance between you and lifts your face to him with a finger under your chin, forcing you to look into his bright eyes.

“You’re nervous.” He states softly.

“Well, yeah.” You whisper.

“I’d tell you not to be, but I am, too. I’m really glad you’re here, though.”

He pulls you tight against him, one hand wrapped around your waist and the other on the back of your head, hugging you. You move your arms to hug him back, sliding them around his waist.

“Have I told you before that you smell amazing?” Your professor chuckles against the top of your head, gently nosing your hair.

“I really like your aftershave, too.” You mumble against his chest.

“Then I’ll wear it every day.”

The tall man releases you from his embrace and nudges you towards the patio doors.

“Come, let’s go inside. I’ve got lasagne cooking in the oven.”

Together you enter the parlour, which is beautifully furnished in dark, earthy tones. Against every wall is at least one overflowing bookcase that reaches all the way to the high ceiling. Of course, you’d expect nothing less from an English Literature professor.

He places his hand on the small of your back as he leads you through the room to the dining area. The contact and proximity send electricity through your body, and the first goosebumps have started to appear on your skin.

The dining room follows the same atmosphere as the parlour, with dark wooden floors and furniture. The deep blue walls are adorned with paintings, all in different types of frames. A marble mantle covers a tidy fireplace. The large table could comfortably sit eight people, but is now set for two, with a chandelier and three burning candles to complete the cozy ambience. Your professor has opted to seat one of you at the head of the table and the other on the corner right beside, instead of taking opposite seats.

 Professor Cumberbatch walks you towards the chair at the corner seat, then pulls out the chair for you so you can sit down. He sheds himself of his jacket and hangs it around the back of the other chair. His white shirt tightens somewhat around his biceps.

“You’re quiet.” He says as he looks down on you, still standing besides the table himself.

“I’m sorry.” You say softly.

“It was an observation, not an assessment.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

“Stop saying that.” Your professor smiles.

You catch yourself before you repeat the words again, then blush and look down at your hands. Fuck, you’d expected to be nervous, but not trembling-mess-of-a-person nervous.

“You have a lovely home.” You say as you dare glance up at your professor, who’s now taken the seat neighbouring yours.

“Thank you. I inherited it from my grandparents when I was around your age.”

You smile at him, regaining a bit of your usual confidence. “So was that before or after Churchill got in parlement?”

He chuckles at your cheeky remark and playfully nudges your knee with his own under the table. “Right after.”

Happy to have finally broken the worst of the tension, you seem to have found your voice again.

“I don’t even know how old you are.” You say.

“Does it matter?”

“Not really. But I’m guessing you have at least ten years on me.”

“Do you usually have a taste for older men? Well, older than you.” He asks, disregarding your remark.

Your cheeks flush again as you divert your gaze to your fiddling hands on the table and nod.

“Am I making you uncomfortable, Anne?” Your professor asks in a soft, serious tone.

“No, not at all. It’s just…”

“Nerves?”

“Yeah.”

 “That’s okay. Maybe a drink will help ease them a bit.” He places his left hand on your right one and gives it a light squeeze. “Rosé is your poison, right?”

You look at him again and give a grateful nod. The professor smiles back at you and gets up from his seat to disappear into the kitchen that borders the dining room. You feel lonely without his presence, but are also glad for a moment to catch your breath. ‘Get your shit together’, you tell yourself. You’re just talking and having dinner, nothing to be so obnoxiously nervous about.

Your professor returns with a bottle, two glasses and a corkscrew. He places all of the items on the table and swiftly uncorks the bottle, then pours the wine into both your glasses.

“Cheers, to a lovely night.” He says as he raises his glass to meet yours.

You gently clink your glass against his and smile at him again.

“Cheers indeed.”

As you wait for the food to be ready, the conversation starts to flow a bit less awkwardly. He asks about your interests besides literature and you tell him about your passion for theatre and how you love to sing. Your professor listens intently and seems genuinely interested to learn more about you. In return, you ask him about his private life, and he tells you how he dabbled in acting for a bit before finally deciding on becoming a professor, as this is where his passion truly lies. It’s nice to know you have similar interests besides uni and, well, each other.

The food he prepared is amazing, and you can’t stop complimenting him on his skills as a chef. He lets out an amused huff when you tell him it’s the best lasagne you’ve had in your life for the fourth time that night, then says: “You’ve clearly never been to Italy before. They’d hang me over there if they found out I didn’t put any nutmeg in the bechamel.”

During dinner the bottle of rosé came to be about half full. You empty your glass and your professor removes the bottle from the table before you can pour yourself another.

“That’s enough for now.” He says with a smile.

“You’re cutting me off?” You ask, somewhat in disbelief. The wine definitely helped you loosen up a bit.

“For now, yes. I’d like you to remember tonight.”

You blush as you nervously bite your lips, suddenly aware of the situation you’re in again. Your professor gets up from his seat and collects the plates, turning to bring them to the kitchen. This time, you get up too and follow him inside.

As he turns back around from putting the dinnerware away into the dishwasher, he jumps a little when he almost bumps into you.

“Did I scare you, sir?” You ask with a coy smile, looking up at him through your lashes.

 He relaxes and slides his arms around your waist, pulling your body against his.

 “You? Never.” He says.

For a long minute you stare into each other’s eyes. Then, finally, he dips his head down to yours and your lips meet. Gently you press your lips against his, kissing him tenderly. He presses you against himself firmer and you slide your arms around his waist, feeling their way up his back. You rest one on his neck and lightly pull at his hair with the other one. You feel his tongue run over your lower lip and instinctively you open your mouth for him. Your tongues meet and the kiss changes from tender to passionate as you explore each other’s mouths.

Your professor’s hands roam around the back of your body, one ending on your lower back, the other one squeezing your ass through the fabric of your dress. This time, he doesn’t stop there, as he lowers his hand further to feel your thigh and slide under your dress. His strong hand kneads your bum, only the pair of sheer tights separating your skin from his. You moan into his mouth and you feel him smile against your lips. He lifts away his hand and then gives your ass a small smack, jolting you forward, further into him. He catches you, then repeats the action twice, grabbing your butt with more force when he’s done.

“Anne…” He breathes in between kisses. “I don’t know what to do with you. I want to bend you over my kitchen counter as I hold you down and fuck you until I feel you cumming around my cock, begging for more.”

You quiver underneath him, your nose pressed against his neck as he places sloppy kisses along your cheek, finally reaching your ear. His breath is hot against your skin.

“But I also want to go slow with you, discover every inch of your gorgeous body, and make you cum on my tongue as you scream my name.”

Your breath hitches in your throat as the man kisses down your neck, taking in the reactions your body gives him. His hips press against your thigh and you feel him getting hard against you. You try to reach down for him but he gently pushes you away, holding both your wrists in one hand, looking at you with nothing but lust in his eyes.

“Not yet. We’ll get to that later. First, you.” He asserts.

As he speaks the words, he moves his free hand up the inside of your thigh, almost reaching your still covered parts. He teases around your center, slowly stroking your thighs, then at last cups his hand around your warmth. Firmly, he presses the ball of his thumb against you, and you immediately respond by slightly grinding down against him, looking for friction.

He smiles as he looks at you wriggling in his hands.

“I bet you’re soaking wet already.” His low baritone rumbles through you, his mouth hovering next to your ear. “And I have decided what I’m going to do with you.”

 With a couple of smooth moves he hitches you up against him then hoists you over his shoulder. 

“We’re going upstairs.” He declares with a husky voice as he starts walking out of the kitchen.

You’re a bit stunned by the action, feeling like a cavewoman being hauled back to his shelter, and you start slapping his back.

“Put me down!” You exclaim with a small shriek followed by laughter.

“Oh look, she talks!” Your professor’s humoured voice sounds.

“Piss off, you bloody caveman!” You snort.

A firm hand smacks your ass and you let out a small cry.

“Me man, take woman.” He grunts. Then, cynically: “Don’t make it any more complicated than it is.”

He starts walking up the stairs and you playfully swat at his back. As he reaches the bedroom, he throws you down on his bed and instantly pulls you to him by your ankles. Of course, he has a fucking four-poster, you think to yourself. Your dress hitches up as he yanks you down and your professor drops on his knees in front of you. He kisses you again, firm and fervent, then lets his hands explore your upper body. He feels his way across your chest, landing on your breasts, and he sighs a little when he cups them in his big hands.

A small ‘Fuck…’ escapes your mouth as he massages them determinendly, all accounts of tenderness out the window. His hands leave your body to tug at your dress and you help him by pulling the piece of clothing over your head, exposing the lacy black bra you’re wearing to him. He groans as he looks at you then plunges his head on your neck, kissing down to your sternum, eventually landing on the swell of your breasts. With ease he unclasps the bra behind your back and gently slides it off your shoulders and arms, taking a moment to look at your naked chest for the first time.

“So beautiful…” He whispers and you blush at his words.

Both his hands cup your boobs again, kneading the soft flesh as he starts to gently pinch your nipples. You moan and wail as he expertly rolls your tender buds between his fingers. Then he lowers his head to take one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking and nibbling, making you shudder underneath him. From your position there’s not much you can do but grab his hair with one hand and press him closer to you. He hums against your skin as he works your nipple, teasing the other with his hand. Your professor changes positions and now sucks your other nipple into his mouth while sliding his free hand down over your stomach towards your privates.

His fingers find their way under your tights and he strokes along your underwear, feeling the heat radiating from you. You feel him grin against your skin and he lifts his head, the cold air hitting the wet skin he left behind. He moves back a bit and drags both his hands along the length of your left leg, ending at the straps of your heel. Carefully he undoes the strap and takes off the shoe, kissing your leg as he comes back to you and repeats the action on your right leg. He sits before you and pinches the fabric of the tights you're still wearing.

“These weren't expensive, right?" He asks with an amused look on his face.

Dazed and confused, you answer him. “What? No, like two quid."

“Good. I'll buy you a hundred new pairs."

He places his fingers against the crotch of your tights and starts ripping them apart, uncovering the lacy thong you're wearing.

You yelp as you feel the fabric tear away from you, not expecting him to yank the tights to shreds. He rolls them down your legs then throws them to the side.

"Some self-indulgence.” He confesses as he grins at you. "I've wanted to do that ever since I first saw you."

A laugh escapes your mouth but is soon stifled as one of his hands finds his way to your slit again, a determined finger stroking up and down your covered wetness. You quiver and moan at his touch, wishing him to move aside your underwear and touch you properly.

“You're so wet for me, Anne." Your professor groans. He lets his hand rest on your center as he raises himself up to look into your eyes. Your body shivers beneath his touch as he presses kisses around your navel. “Tell me what you want."

"I- I want you.” You manage.

"What do you want me to do?” He drones against your skin and climbs over you slightly, licking and nibbling his way to your nipples, rubbing his hand over your underwear.

You feel the fabric of his shirt chafe your belly and are instantly very aware of your nudity and his lack thereof. You move your hands to the collar of his shirt and start unbuttoning whatever buttons you can reach.

“Would you take off your shirt?" You ask shyly when your hands can't reach the next button anymore.

Your professor lifts his head to look at you and smiles. “Of course."

He presses a long kiss to your lips as he starts to open up the buttons. His hand leaves your needy entrance as he reaches up to do as you asked, and though you miss the warmth, the reward is worth it. Finally he reaches the last button, sheds the shirt and unceremoniously throws it aside.

You prop yourself up on your elbows and look at the man before you. He's a bit broader than you thought though still slender, with clearly defined abs and notable biceps. Evidently he gets his work-outs in regularly. Your cheeks flush as you bite your lips. You've never been with a man this handsome before, and it makes you nervous.

“Anne, love, where's your head at?" He says softly as he caresses your cheek.

You shake your head, unsure what to say.

“Words, please." His voice has a strict note in it.

“You're very handsome." You murmur as you blush and look away.

At this, he lets out a full belly laugh, then cups your head in his hands and plants a kiss on your forehead.

“Fuck, you scared me there for a bit. You looked like you were ready to bolt out of here.”

“I think I’d get lost trying to find your front door.” You quip.

“Now Anne, I’m going to need you to do a couple of things for me.” His voice is hoarse with lust but serious nonetheless. His gaze pins you down and you listen to him intently.

He smiles at you and lowers himself to his knees again, pressing your body down into the soft mattress with his forearm. Your professor splays his hand over your stomach as to hold you back, which feels redundant as you don’t plan on going anywhere.

Slowly he presses kisses along the line of your underwear. At last he takes both hands to hook his fingers around your thong and slides it down your thighs, you lifting yourself up a bit to make it easier for him. He removes the garment from your legs and looks you over once more. It’s a weird sight, your professor down between your legs, but one you could definitely get used to. His hand cups your center again and he runs his middle finger along your wet slit, extracting a moan from your mouth as he touches your folds for the first time.

“One: keep your hands to yourself, no touching me.” He states. “Two: you address me as sir.” His finger now presses against your entrance and you silently gasp for air. “And lastly: ask for permission before you cum.”

You nod fervently as you marginally move your hips to try and get more of his finger on you.

He gives your thigh a light slap. “What did we say about using our words?”

“Yes, yes sir.” You breathe.

“Repeat the rules to me.” His free hand presses down on your stomach again as his middle finger circles your wetness, setting you ablaze.

It takes you a second to find your voice and repeat what he said. “No touching you, address you as sir, ask for permission before I orgasm. Sir.”

“Good girl.” He groans as he slides his finger inside of you, finally giving you what you want.

Slowly your professor starts moving his finger up and down, stretching your walls ever so slightly. He soon enters a second finger and you moan as he starts pumping them in and out of you at an unhurried pace. You buck your hips as you look for more friction, but he’s not giving in to you yet.

He picks up the pace when you let out another moan, then reaches up with his thumb, finding your clit. You lightly arch your back as he rubs your most sensitive spot, sending jolts of pleasure through your body.

“You’re so needy for me.” The man breathes as he smirks at you. “So fucking wet for your professor.”

He drops his head and covers your slit with his mouth, lapping up the juices that are already spilling out of you.

“Fuck, you taste good.” He sighs as his tongue runs along your folds.

You start to squirm under his touch and try to wiggle, but his strong hand is still holding you down. He presses just above your pubic bone, the sensation making you whine in pleasure. You can almost feel the content grin on his face against your wetness.

Two fingers enter you again, his mouth now moving to nibble and suck on your clit. You feel your orgasm building in your core as he continues to thrill you, your inner walls starting to clench a little.

He doesn’t even break away from your skin as his voice rumbles: “Remember the rules, Anne. Ask me first.”

You open your mouth to beg for your release, but nothing else but ‘Fuu-uuuCK’ leaves your lips as you feel yourself spill over on his tongue, grabbing a fistful of his hair as you push him against you tightly.

Your professor relishes in your wetness as he lets you ride out your high on his fingers and tongue, then removes both from you, leaving you a desperate mess before him.

“Two rules broken already.” He smirks as he pushes himself up from the floor and looks down on you. He licks his fingers clean and wipes his mouth on his arm. “Lucky me.”

------------------

A/N: Once again thank you for reading <3 I hope you enjoyed. Next part will be up soon!!

Taglist: @littletigerspeaks2

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Oh, so it's that kind of morning. Happy shivers run down your spine as you nervously chew on your lower lip, eager to find out what's to come. You're not really used to Thor being anything but gentle, tender and soft when you make love. But sometimes, when he comes back from a dangerous mission, he will absolutely ravish you.

Thor has reached the foot of the bed, his intense gaze pinning you to your spot. Ever so slowly he starts to undress himself, shedding the layers of red robes, not stopping until he's fully naked. Your eyes inadvertently shoot down as Thor wraps his hand around his thick cock and strokes himself as he longingly watches you.

"Get over here, Y/n." Thor breathes. "On the floor, on your knees."

You rapidly blink several times at his words, confusion rolling over you. Thor has never ordered you to do anything before. Let alone in the bedroom.

His eyes narrow and something stirs deep within you. He looks absolutely feral, ready to pounce on you at any time like a big jungle cat. Hesitantly you get out from under the covers, your naked form immediately taken in by your boyfriend. Something about his gaze makes you want to cover yourself, but you choose against it.

"That's it, my good girl." Thor praises as you make your way over to him, stopping right before his broad figure. "Now, kneel for me."

Not breaking eye-contact, you sink to your knees in front of the tall God, your head perfectly leveled with his pelvis. Thor stares down at you with lustful blue eyes, still slowly moving his hand up and down his shaft.

"Open your mouth for me, darling." He commands, his voice gravely.

Once again you comply, shivering in anticipation. You could get used to this side of him.

Steadily Thor guides the tip of his cock to your lips, sinking himself into your mouth. He lets out a deep groan when you swirl your tongue around his head, then lower yourself down on him inch by inch. He's big, and he's thick, so it's not easy to get a whole lot of his length into your mouth. But you try your best anyways, feeling him hit the back of your throat when you're about two-thirds down.

Thor's hands twist into your hair and he pushes himself further into you, down your throat. You gag around him when your nose hits his pubic bone, but he doesn't relent. With his head thrown back, he keeps you pushed tightly against himself, hearing your choking sounds as his dick fills your throat.

"Just like that, my darling. Just like that." He breathes before he finally lets go of your head, leaving you coughing on your knees in front of him.

After giving you a short moment to catch your breath, he shoves himself inside again, watching as his long shaft disappears into your mouth. Tears well in the corner of your eyes and silently make their way down your cheeks as he fucks your throat with deep thrusts.

"That's it, my sweetling. You look so pretty when you cry." He coos.

Not knowing what else to do than oblige, you let the muscled God abuse your throat. Drool escapes your mouth and stains your face together with fresh tears, until he finally pulls your head off of him.

"Doing so well for me, my good girl." He praises from above you, sending fluttering feelings to your core. "I love it when you let me defile you like this."

His eyes are dark with lust when Thor offers you his hand. You lay your shaking palm in his, letting him pull you up. His mouth catches yours for a hungry kiss, and you let him walk the two of you back towards the bed. The strong man lays himself down and pulls you over him, your legs straddling his hips. Two fingers run through your folds, spreading your lips for him as he feels the pool of wetness that has gathered.

"Did sucking my cock turn you on, little one?" He muses as he sinks both digits into your core, his thumb lazily rubbing your clit.

"Y-yes, Thor." You reply between staggered breaths, relishing in the feeling of his fingers stretching you. "Got me so wet."

"Be good for me and ride my cock, my little concubine. Worship your God." He groans as he removes his hands from you.

His rumbling words travel through your body, making you shiver in anticipation. With one hand you guide his cock towards your entrance, the other splayed on his broad chest to steady yourself. Bit by bit you sink down on him, letting him stretch your walls, sending your eyes back in your head when he's buried inside you to the hilt.

A loud moan escapes your lips when he sharply thrusts up.

"Fuck, Thor…" You cry out.

You snap your hips down against his own, both your hands now clawing into his pecs to keep yourself from toppling over. As instructed, you ride him, up and down, back and forth, feeling every delicious inch of him inside of you. After a little while Thor seems to get impatient, grabbing onto your hips and fucking up into you.

"Oh my, Thor! Yes! Thor!" You scream as you ride him while he slams into your needy pussy from his position under you. Every thrust of his hips gets accentuated with a new cry. "Thor! Thor! Thor…"

Suddenly the brawny man stops his movements, roughly shoving you off him and slamming you on your back. Both his strong hands land next to your head, caging you in. There's fury in his eyes as he glowers at you.

"Would you shut up?" He spits at you.

You're too stunned to speak at his sudden change of demeanor. Normally he loves it when you scream his name over and over again. This time, you didn't even have to fake your pleasurable cries. What's gotten into him?

"I- I'm sorry…" You stammer.

His eyes seem to lose somewhat of their intensity, but he's not yet back to his normal self.

"I thought you liked it when I call out your name." You hesitantly continue.

At this, Thor drops his head, letting out a humourless laugh.

"Oh my sweet, darling girl… You have no idea how much I long to hear you moan my name in that lovely voice of yours." He hoarsly whispers.

You knit your brows. "Then what's wrong?"

"It is my name I need to hear." The man growls as he roughly thrusts back into you.

A shimmer of green light washes over him and Loki's exasperated face appears before you, his unruly dark hair falling around his ears. Your eyes widen in disgusted astonishment as you realise everything so far has been an intricate illusion created by the God of Lies himself.

"What the fuck! Get away from me!" You scream as you try to push Loki away, but he's not having it.

Loki wraps his hand around your throat and pushes two fingers inside your mouth, pressing on your tongue, pulling your jaw down and leaving you unable to scream. His other hand captures both your wrists, pinning them firmly to your chest.

"Do you really think my brother could make you feel this good, pet?" Loki hisses as he retakes his brutal pace. "He could never make you scream and writhe in pleasure the way I do. He will never be able to make you feel like this."

Panick is set in your eyes as you stare at the raging man on top of you. You try to turn your head from him and pull your hands free, but he is far too strong. You try to kick him away, but it's no use. If anything, your fight seems to spur him on further.

"Try your hardest, little dove. Give me your worst." Loki groans with a wicked grin.

He lays his chest down on yours, crushing you with the weight of his body as he keeps slamming into your wet core. Wait, wet?

Loki releases your throat and pulls the fingers from your mouth, immediately clamping his hand over your lips to muffle any sounds. He pushes your head to the side to expose your neck to him, which he eagerly latches onto. His smart mouth nibbles and sucks at the tender skin, setting your body aflame. When he softly bites in that one sweet spot on your neck, you involuntarily moan into the hand that holds you in an iron grip.

"That's it, there's a good girl." Loki breathes in a mocking tone. "Give yourself to me, darling. Let yourself experience what it's like to be fucked by a God that actually knows what he's doing."

You still try to defy him. You can't let him win. But there's something about the way his cock is hitting just the right spots, his tongue licking the right places, and his hands squeezing the right flesh that turns you on more than ever. You had loved the rough fucking when you still thought it was Thor hammering you senseless. Knowing it's Loki…

No. You can't let him win. Not like this. So, after deciding this is the only thing you can try to get him off you, you sink your teeth into the soft palm of his hand over your mouth.

"Fuck!" Loki yells as he pulls his hand away from your face.

There's no time to celebrate your small victory, a flick of his wrist making a tight gag appear that's tied at the back of your head. Muted once again. Though he seems to be seething with rage, Loki's eyes also hold a spark of mischief and his mouth is set in a wide grin.

"Who would've thought?" He hisses with a low voice. "My little pet bites."

Loki leans in closer, his lips so near to your ear you can practically feel the heat radiating off them when he speaks again.

"You're going to regret that."

Before you can even think of trying to get away, Loki has roughly flipped you on your stomach. Your gagged face plants into the mattress, and you quickly move your head sideways enough so you can still breathe. Loki doesn't seem all too concerned with your oxygen intake at the moment, both of your hands now tightly pressed into the pillows above you. More green light appears and you feel rope circling your wrists, binding them together. An experimental tug proves the rope is attached to the head of the bed. Your legs are yanked apart and two new pieces of rope appear around your ankles, wrapping around the two posts at the foot of the bed. You're gagged, tied down to the bed, completely at his mercy. And mercy is not exactly something Loki is known for.

Two rough hands land om your arse, kneading the soft flesh vigorously. Loki thrusts himself inside of you again, making long, deep movements that feel like they're going all the way down to your stomach. You whine as well as you can with the gag still in your mouth, silently pleading with him to stop.

"What's that, darling?" Loki coos. "If you want something, you're going to have to speak up for me."

He picks up his pace and starts pounding into you once more. He grabs a fistful of your hair, pulling your head back and leveraging himself to get even deeper into your cunt.

"If only you knew how many times I've used you exactly like this, pet." Loki groans. "You're always reluctant at first, but you've never bit me before. That's new."

What? Has he disguised himself as Thor before without you knowing? The thought sends shivers through your body, but you're not sure of their nature. You let out an involuntary moan when he reaches one hand between your body and the silky sheets, groping at your breasts and tugging at your nipples.

"All those times you forgot where you were headed? When you suddenly seemed to be in a place you weren't before? Taking my hand and letting me graciously lead you back to your beloved?" Loki continues to whisper in your ear as he rams his cock into you.

There have been a lot of times lately where you felt like you were going crazy. You could've sworn to be headed for the garden for some fresh air, to find yourself in a random room several metres down moments after, with Loki kindly helping you find your way again. Or when you suddenly lost Thor at a party and found yourself wandering some random hallway of the Palace, and Loki had been there to guide you back.

"That's when I fucked you full of my cum and dumped you right back into my brother's overgrown arms. I have wiped your memory so many times I've lost count." He spits.

His confession makes your blood boil. How dare he use you like that? You start to trash against your bindings, only to feel Loki's grip on your hair tighten. He's relishing in your response to his words.

"I think I'll reveal myself to you sooner next time." He continues to taunt you. "You get so tight for me when you try to fight me off."

It takes you by surprise when the gag vanishes from your mouth, leaving you able to take in a deep breath again. The bindings fall away as well. If it wasn't for the man on top of you pounding you into the mattress, you might have been able to move.

"Missed your pretty little cries, darling." Loki mocks as he pulls himself out of you, eliciting a deep moan from your lips. "That mouth of yours pleases me in so many ways."

Strong hands flip you around, so you're laying on your back beneath him.

"Fuck you, Loki." You spit at the man at the same time he impales you on his cock. It comes out more like a whimper than a threat, and you internally curse yourself.

Loki's fingers find your clit while his tongue licks across your neck, making more pleasurable sounds escape you.

"I'm going to make you cum, pet." Loki hisses. "And you're going to scream my name as I do."

"Never." You groan, not so sure of your own words.

One of your hands swats at his face, striking him. He runs his tongue along the inside of his hurt cheek, smirking down at you. You try your luck again, but he captures your wrist mid-air and gives you a wicked grin, his eyes dark and angry. He drops your wrist and grabs onto your hip tightly.

"So fiesty today, Y/n. Do you need some more persuasion?"

The feeling of cold metal against your hip makes you shut up and retract your hands. Loki's dagger dangerously presses into your soft flesh.

"There you go. My good girl knows how to keep her hands to herself, doesn't she?" He taunts.

Then Loki stalls his movements abruptly, grinning down on you, holding his lower lip between his teeth for a brief moment. His mischievous eyes search yours and hold your gaze.

"Oh, my darling Y/n…. Does it turn you on to be threatened by me?" He muses, quirking up his eyebrows.

You silently curse your body for betraying you, but you can't deny the arousal that is escaping you where yours and Loki's bodies meet. You feel your walls clench around his cock tightly when he trails the dagger along your hip and side, still rubbing your clit with his other hand. His eyes now show amazement more than anything.

"N-No." You stammer, a desperate attempt.

"You should know better than to lie to the God of Lies, my sweet pet." Loki hums, resuming his thrusting movements. "Let me not deny you of your pleasure any longer."

The dagger now presses to your throat, making you whimper and whrite under the strong man. His fingers work your clit expertly as he keeps slamming into you, the undeniable coil of pleasure starting to form in your abdomen. Loki feels it too, your walls clenching around him as he fucks you into yours and Thor's bed.

It's when he bends down to kiss you that you can no longer abstain from letting out your pleasurable cries. His tongue enters your willing mouth with ease and he hungrily swallows your moans. It's a deep, passionate kiss which sends goosebumps across your blazing hot skin.

Loki's hand travels down from your throat to your pubic bone, where he presses both his fist and the dagger into the soft spot on your belly. The added pressure makes you buck your hips into his, loud groans escaping you.

Loki breaks the kiss to press his forehead against yours, eyes closed, whispering: "Say my name for me, darling. Please, give yourself to me."

Your eyes scan his face as well as they can from your position. His expression is almost tender. You've never heard Loki say 'please' before. You hear your own soft, hoarse voice before you are fully aware of the words leaving your lips.

"Loki… Please, Loki. Take me. I'm yours."

Tears roll down your cheeks as Loki grunts, thrusting his hips against yours and rubbing your clit while you finally topple over the edge of your orgasm. It's insane how you convulse under him, wave after wave crashing into you like a sea of desperate release. Your body has turned limp, only registering the feeling of his cock inside your sensitive core and his whispered words of praise.

"Did so well for me, darling. My beautiful pet. My darling Y/n."

The dagger vanishes from your abdomen. Loki smiles before kissing you again, following your orgasm with his own release, filling you with his hot cum. You arch your back into him, desperate not to miss a single sensation he's bestowing on you. The kiss you share is needy, as if you've both missed out on something for so long you can't get enough now it's finally presented to you.

Finally, Loki rolls away from you, immediately pulling you to his chest. Your head nuzzles against him, drawing in his scent. His hand draws lazy circles on your back as he cradles your body against his own.

You lay together for who knows how long, enjoying each other's sweaty presence.

"Will you erase my memory again?" You hesitantly ask after a little while.

Loki looks down at you. "Yes. I must."

"What if I don't want you to?"

"I can't risk you telling Thor, darling."

"I won't tell him. He won't hurt you." You argue.

"It's not me I'm afraid will get hurt." Loki says as he brushes a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

"Does it always end like this? I mean, with us… With this feeling?"

He shakes his head, his face no longer betraying any hint of emotion. He squeezes you closer to him though.

"Sometimes. But more often you can't wait to get away from me."

"Oh. I'm sorry." You offer, your brows furrowed.

"My darling Y/n, I am not worthy of your sympathy." He says with a humourless smile. "You are one of the only inhabitants of this forsaken place that treats me like a normal person. And time and time again I defile you by disguising myself as someone you trust and taking advantage of you."

"You don't have to disguise yourself to turn into someone I trust, Loki."

Loki swallows, the hand that was gently caressing your back now stalling. With a shimmer of green light, you're both fully clothed, no traces of him left on your body.

Realising what's about to happen, you look up at him, pleading with your eyes not to make you forget. Loki gives you a small smile and places a kiss on top of your head before untangling himself from the golden sheets.

"Until next time, my love." He whispers.

Green light washes over you, and you open your eyes to your empty, yet stuffy bedroom. There's a knock on the door and you get out of the warm bed, for some reason fully clothed. You must have been so tired, you had fallen asleep with your clothes on yesterday night.

"Loki, what are you doing here?" You frown when the God appears before you as you open the door.

"Just checking in on you, darling. Has my brother not returned yet?" Loki says with a kind smile that doesn't seem to fully reach his eyes.

"Not yet. He won't return for another two days." You tell the dark-haired man.

"I see." Loki replies. "Well, if you are in need of anything, please come find me."

"Thank you Loki, I will."

"Any time, pet. Any time."

_____

A/N: So that was... a ride! Hope you enjoyed this second work in the series. Third might follow if you guys like it :) I have some ideas. Please lmk what you think!!

Series overview • Masterlist

Link to AO3:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/87351376

Please do not copy and post my work under your own name (reblogging is welcome of course!)

Taglist: @littletigerspeaks2, @mischiefmaker615