Naia and the Professor Part 2

"Lift your skirt."

Reaching back, she raised her skirt.

"Higher so it will stay."

She pushed it higher.

"Take your panties down."

"Can I keep them on?" One final attempt to salvage a semblance of dignity.

"No."

She wouldn't beg. She looked over her shoulder at him, but his eyes were focused on her backside, his expression one of extreme arousal. Reaching back, she hooked her fingers around her panties and slowly slid them down until they fell to the floor.

"Step out of them and take your legs to shoulder width." His voice was hoa.r.s.e. He was antic.i.p.ating, as she was, but something entirely different. It leveled the field, at least a little bit.

"Yes, Sir," she said, allowing herself to settle into her role. She pushed her panties aside and arched her back.

"Put your elbows on the desk, palms flat and face forward, Ms. White."

"Ms. White again?" She couldn't help it.

A hard smack to her upper thigh made her yelp. "Ow!" She reached back to cover the spot.

"Respect, Ms. White. That won't count as one of your thirty."

"That hurt!"

"This is punishment. What did you expect, a love pat?" He kicked her legs apart. "Do I need to restrain you?"

The thought sent a flush of heat straight to her s.e.x.

"No, Sir." Although she wouldn't mind being tied up by him.

"Resume your position. If I have to bind you, you will receive double the strokes."

"Double?" Instantly his hand delivered two swift smacks. "Ow!"

"You will not speak during your punishment but to count or to thank me, Ms. White. Am I clear?"

He spanked her one more time and she bit her tongue to keep her response to a quick, "Yes, Sir!"

"Good. You may call out if you need to but I'm pretty sure these walls aren't that thick. I don't mind a visit from security, but you might."

Christ, her a.s.s was incredible. Watching her bend over, lift her skirt and take her panties down had made him hard. But when he'd noticed her arch her back, lifting her a.s.s higher, he knew she wanted this as much as he did.

The few spots he'd already hit were turning a bright pink. Otherwise, the skin was white, soft and pillowy-an a.s.s made for spanking. He imagined how her b.u.t.tocks would bounce and tremble with each blow. When he began caressing them, she tensed and sucked in a breath.

"Relax, Ms. White," he said. "Remember, you're here because you choose to be. Or are you backing out? Using your safe word already?"

"No, Sir," her voice cracked but she relaxed her body.

With his hands flat on her a.s.s, he spread her cheeks wider as she s.h.i.+fted on her feet. Through the light dusting of hair, he could see the slickness of her p.u.s.s.y. Taking one hand underneath, he found her swollen c.l.i.t and teased it. She tensed but didn't make a sound and he imagined she was determined not to let him know she was enjoying his attention to that very sensitive region of her body. But as he continued with his ministrations, she was unable to restrain the moan that escaped her throat.

"You're so wet. Do you like this? Is it bending over, preparing yourself to be spanked? Is it my looking at you? What is it, Ms. White? What's got you so slick?" He rubbed his fingers along her moist s.e.x as he spoke but didn't enter her. Not yet.

When she didn't answer, he delivered a hard smack to her b.u.t.tock.

"Ow!" She jumped.

"Answer me when I ask you a question." The other cheek was subjected to the same treatment.

"Yes!"

"Yes, what?" He spanked again.

"Sir."

"Tell me what's got you so turned on."

"Professor..." she begged.

"Tell me." One finger found the opening of her s.e.x and entered, causing her to shudder as her p.u.s.s.y tightened around it. "Or do you want me to stop touching you?" he asked, sliding his finger in and out.

It took her a moment as she dropped, then picked her head back up. "I've thought of you, of this, for a long time, Professor."

He smiled at her confession and, taking her c.l.i.t between two fingers, squeezed; a little reward for her honesty. "You're not alone in that, Naia," he said and he began. "Count. If you lose track, we'll start from one."

The first spank landed, as hard as the ones he'd already administered.

"One," she counted, grunting, as each stroke left its burning mark on her tender flesh. She imagined how her b.u.t.tocks bounced especially as she tried to wiggle out of his way to avoid the blows. Seemingly without effort, one hand pinned her to the desk. The pain of the spanking was sharp and hot, but not unbearable. What made it difficult was just when she'd geared up to take another one, he'd slow down and softly caress her b.u.t.tocks. Then, as she'd relax into his hands, he'd start again.

His hand seemed not to tire as it delivered her punishment and by the time they reached fifteen, she was begging him to slow down, ease up, and give her a moment to catch her breath. She let out small yelps as the blows came harder over her already stinging backside and thighs, and even though she wanted to scream at him, she remembered his warning and bit back the protests.

When they reached twenty, tears began to fall from her eyes. It was painful, no doubt, but at the same time, the idea that he, Professor Templar, stood behind her spanking her bare a.s.s, turned her on like no fantasy of him ever had. If she could just reach back, touch her c.l.i.t for one minute, she knew she'd come hard. She dared a glance back and her eyes settled for one brief moment on the huge bulge pressed against the crotch of his pants. She wanted him to f.u.c.k her, to spank her then f.u.c.k her as she lay bent over the desk. She needed him inside her, behind her, pounding into her until she lost herself in her o.r.g.a.s.m.

Finally, thirty came and he stopped. She was gasping for breath and crying. She moved to rise but he pushed her back down with one hand between her shoulder blades. He leaned over her so that his c.o.c.k pushed against her a.s.s through the rough material of his pants. He pressed his hips to hers and brought his mouth close to her ear. "There it is ... that mythical spanking, long overdue." He was breathing hard. "I hope it lived up to your expectations, Naia."

She didn't respond. She couldn't.

Letting her up slightly, he shoved her sweater up and over her head and then pushed her bra under her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. He kneaded and stroked her nipples into hard points as she moaned with pleasure.

"Naia," he whispered and she knew he had an evil little grin on his face.

"Professor," she said, breathless.

"Thank me for your spanking."

He kept working her nipples.

"Thank you for my spanking, Professor." Oh G.o.d, would he f.u.c.k her now?

"You're welcome. Now tell me what you want, Naia." The fingernails of one hand scratched her tender b.u.t.tock, making her rise on tiptoe.

"Professor..."

"Tell me what you want."

"You, Professor. I want you inside me. I want you to f.u.c.k me, please, Sir."

"Christ, you're soaked, Naia." His fingers found her p.u.s.s.y and two drove in hard.

She sucked in a deep breath.

"Kneel," he told her.

She looked back at him, realizing what he planned. But she wanted something else, needed it badly.

"Please, f.u.c.k me," she begged even as she slid down to her knees. His eyes told her the punishment wasn't over yet.

"I plan to," he said, unzipping his pants. "Open your mouth wide. I want to f.u.c.k your mouth. And keep your knees apart. Wouldn't want you to rub yourself to o.r.g.a.s.m just yet." Her eyes grew wide at the huge thickness of his c.o.c.k. It was bigger and thicker than she'd ever had and she wanted him inside her, anywhere inside her, now. Grabbing hold of his thighs, she opened her mouth and licked the tip of it, tasting the salty sweetness before wrapping her lips around him and sucking. He fisted handfuls of her hair and closed his eyes. "Good girl, Naia. Open wider ... let me have the back of your throat." With that, he began to f.u.c.k her mouth, nothing gentle in it as he held her head still. He pumped in and out fast until she felt the twitch of his c.o.c.k signaling his imminent release. His thrusts slowed to a stop and his grip on her hair tightened, causing more tears to form in the corners of her eyes. Warm liquid spilled down her throat and she swallowed every drop, tasting him, wanting more of him.

"You look lovely with my c.o.c.k stuffed in your mouth," he said.

She only met his eyes, unable to speak.

He pulled out slowly and she fell to her hands as he tucked himself into his pants and zipped them up.

"I want to come," she whispered. Her p.u.s.s.y was on fire, swollen, unsatisfied.

"Not yet. Think of the ten years I've waited for my apology."

"Please. I'll do anything."

"I know you will," he said. He helped her to her feet and smoothed her skirt down to cover her.

"Please," she begged as he looked at her.

"I hope you feel better after that," he said, tucking her bra back over her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, stroking her arms lightly. "Goodbye, Naia." He leaned down to take her open mouth in a soft kiss.

With that, he left her standing awestruck in the middle of the room, watching as he walked out without a backward glance.

Chapter 3.

Liam stepped onto the elevator, his face hard. He should have spanked her and left. He shouldn't have done what he'd done.

"d.a.m.n you, Naia!" he cursed, turning his back on his reflection in the elevator mirror.

He knew he wasn't over her, didn't he? The minute he'd seen her at the club, he'd known it. And if he were smarter, he'd have told her to go to h.e.l.l. When he'd suggested the spanking, he hadn't been sure if she'd accept his proposition. A part of him wanted her not to be at the hotel today, but the more dominant part was glad she was. Was glad she'd let him do what he'd done.

"f.u.c.k," he mumbled under his breath as the doors opened and he stepped out into the lobby. She was still under his skin and that was putting it mildly. He'd had feelings for her back when he was her teacher, but she'd been safe from him then.

No, he'd leave her alone. He'd go back to burying himself in his work, find another woman to take his mind off of her. She was in town for two more weeks. He wouldn't return to her hotel or make any attempt to see her again. He had to forget all about Naia White.

Naia stared at the closed door in awe. Her s.e.x burned for attention but her heart sank the moment he'd told her goodbye. He didn't want her. He'd taken what was his due, what she'd freely offered. He'd enjoyed it thoroughly, and now he was through. And she was left standing alone in the hotel room, her a.s.s and her pride hurting from her punishment.

Humiliated at her willing submission and his now second rejection of her, she turned to the mini bar and took out three little bottles of whiskey. She hated whiskey.

The room was pitch black when she woke from a fitful sleep. She checked the clock-just past midnight. Remembering the events of the evening, Naia closed her eyes and buried her face in her pillow. Her p.u.s.s.y still ached from need and he'd haunted her dreams, his expression a smirk as he gazed down at her, a mess on the floor.

Anger got her to her feet.

"f.u.c.k you, Professor Templar!" she said to no one in particular. She took two pills out of the bottle of Advil in her purse and made her way to the bathroom. It was Friday night, the start of the weekend and she imagined Club Templar was busy now. Stripping off her clothes, she took a quick shower and put on the leather corset and skirt she'd worn to the club the first night. She took five minutes to apply eyeliner, mascara and lipstick, and brushed her hair into a ponytail before heading out the door and into the elevator. If Liam Templar thought he'd won, he had another thing coming. She wasn't through with the son of a b.i.t.c.h. Not by a long shot.

"Mr. Templar?" Oliver spoke into his mouthpiece.

"Let go of me!" Naia tugged at her arm to get free. She'd arrived twenty minutes later and stormed into the packed club demanding to see Liam. No one would tell her where his office was or whether or not he was there at all until she'd caused enough of a scene that Oliver had taken her aside.

"There's a woman here to see you, Sir," he said.

At least he was here.

"What's your name, Ma'am?" Oliver asked.

Her name? Screw the b.a.s.t.a.r.d. He had to know perfectly well that it would be her. "Tell him it's Naia White!"

"Ms. White, Sir." A pause and then, "Yes, Sir. I'll hold on to her."

"Hold on to me?" She pulled at her arm again but he wouldn't let her go.