Chapter 7

Seven

Rosalee

I don't make much small talk at the club entrance as the bouncer checks me and my credentials over for the fifth time.

I'm taking a risk that I'm wrong, but my gut says I'm totally on point when I say, "Gideon Blackthorne is expecting me." Lucky for me, I got to keep my card from the previous night when I snagged it off my mystery man's table on the way out. I'd meant it as a memento.

The doorman hands me a mask and I tie it on as he waves me through the opened heavy slabs of marble with fine traces of gold woven through it, and I don't stop until I'm standing outside the black door with the golden number 501.

Before knocking I take a moment and check my hair in a hallway mirror and straighten my skirt and blouse. I know one of two men are on the other side or will be soon, and a dirty idea hits. You don't get anything if you're not bold, right? Well here goes nothing. I reach under my skirt and slide off my panties, stuffing them in my clutch.

I try the handle and find it unlocked and let myself in.

At first everything looks the same, and I smell the hint of the same cologne as I did the previous night.

My eyes drift to the bed, and that's when my heart plunges to my toes, dead.

"Oh, I'm sorry." A very beautiful, very naked blonde with shapely hips and berry-tipped tits is spread out on what I know is Professor Blackthorne's bed. Her silky blonde hair is a sight of perfection on the black silk of his sheets. At least he'd had them changed.

What the fuck? My limbs freeze right along with my brain.

"I didn't realize this room was occupied," I stutter and back out of the room just as she sits up, her mouth poised open as if to say something.

Yep. don't care. I don't want to know what she has to say, because I'm not sure I can handle words at the moment I'm so mad. Mad at myself for how stupid I am to get so caught up in a man when I should be focused on my family. And mad at letting my body carry me so far into a fantasy I have lost all sense of myself. Chasing after a man is not me.

And I'm mad at the professor for hiding his identity from me when he had to have known it was me last night.

But still, I don't have the proof I came here looking for either. Or do I? The doorman didn't refute my claim when I used the professor's name. Grrr. I just want out of here.

I trudge through the halls, backtracking my steps. I am so caught up in my thoughts and anger I don't see the wall of muscle in front of me until my nose is buried in all that glorious hardness.

Damn my fingers for flexing around two taut pecs.

And that's when I smell it. The cologne. His cologne. My mystery lover's. On my professor.

My lover's .

Two words as foreign to me as the feeling they stir.

I raise my gaze, up and up a little further until my gaze lands on a set of dark, piercing eyes.

"Professor Blackthorne."

There's my proof, I suppose. But my heart wants to cry. This night is not going how I planned or thought it would.

I shove all that aside and sidestep the man. No need to say anything. I'll just drop out, go home and find another way to bring my family back on their feet.

Apparently, my brain decided it wanted to take over for my heart, because when I open my mouth to apologize for running into him, something else entirely comes out.

"Your new fuck of the night is upstairs waiting on you. You'll love her tits. Promise."

I have to give him credit. He looks perplexed at first as he takes me in, but I don't buy it and shove his massive size to the side so I can get by. Or at least I try. He doesn't move, as expected. Instead he lords his large size over me like a bull and is huffing like one too.

I crank my chin high and shove my shoulders back. I'm no charity case, and I can't help but feel played or pitied. "Don't play stupid. I know what goes on here and had I known it was you at the auction last night buying me for the evening, I would have never let you between my legs. And take that look of confusion off your face. I didn't know it was you, but you sure the hell knew it was me. You're the one that picked my card off the floor two days ago in your lecture hall with my name on it. Remember?"

"Make up your mind, Ms. Johnson. Are you mad because someone else was taking your virginity last night when you wanted it to be me or that there's someone else in my private rooms this evening? You need to pick."

Why, the sheer arrogance! "Why do you think I wanted it to be you to take my virginity? A little full of yourself, Professor."

"Because you screamed my name not once but all three times I made you cum around my cock last night."

My face falls.

"I did what?" I gasp.

I wrap my arms over my chest protectively, and his gaze dips to my breasts where my hard nipples are peaking through the thin material of my blouse, thoroughly betraying me. "Don't get too excited. My nipples react to a varying degree of emotions, and I don't believe you."

Blackthorne drops his chin to his chest and stalks forward, pushing me deeper into a small alcove off the side of the long corridor. Partially tucked out of sight, he raises his hands and anchors his arms on either side of me until I can do nothing but glare back at him through the eyes of my silk mask.

"You moaned the first. It was a delicious sound. Fuck, it made me harder. Then when you cried the second, I fucked you faster until you screamed my name a third time. Then I released my cum and filled your tight pussy with all of me."

I shudder at his filthy words. "I remember that part, thank you very much and we used a condom."

"Indeed," he chuckles low, considering me for a moment beneath hooded eyes.

Damn, it I hate it when he does that. It's like he can see way too damn much of me.

"You don't believe me, Ms. Johnson? Maybe we should have a do-over then? But the warm blush along your cheeks when I mention taking that beautiful, virgin pussy with my thick, long cock gives the truth away and you know it." He glances the back of his knuckles across my cheek.

I didn't realize I'd screamed the professor's name out loud, no. I thought that was all in my head. Obviously, I hadn't.

Shadows of other club-goers cross beyond us, but I pay them little attention since I can't take my eyes or hands off the big brute towering over me.

I take the edges of my mask between my fingers and I move to pull it free from my face, but he stills my movements.

"You don't get to take this off until you're ready for me to claim every part of you, Ms. Johnson, and you're ready to tell me what you really want. Then and only then will you take it off and when you do, I will own you. Do you understand me? I didn't come here tonight to play games. We are past that. I want you to know the next time I take you, you're mine."

I drop my hands to his chest. "You don't get to claim me until you can use my given name, Professor, and I'm red in the face because I'm mad." I can feel the heat of my anger morphing into something much more dangerous the longer he speaks.

Oh my god, he wants to what with me? Claim me? How long have I dreamed of that?

Something entirely uncontrollable comes to life inside me, and all I can think about is waking up to him every morning. In his arms, in his bed and having his love to comfort me when life wants to kick me in the preverbal balls.

"Mad, uhu? Then why are you leaning in to kiss me and why can I smell your arousal when I haven't even touched you?"

He palms my ass through the thin fabric of my skirt and drags me across the short distance separating us, and the first thing I notice is his hard length. Every rigid inch of it pressing into my midriff, taunting me with what I want but can't have.

It's a blessing and a curse to want him so badly it hurts deep inside me. Now that I know it was him who I slept with last night, I want him even more.

The temperature jacks up well over comfortable, and my chest begins to heave. He has me pinned with my shoulders resting against the carpeted wall when he hauls me up his body, pulling my skirt high on my hips, and I suddenly remember what I'm wearing. Or rather don't have on.

A smirk plays over his lips as he pulls his hungry gaze from my bare, very wet vagina.

"Mmm." He growls. "Naughty little girl shows up at her professor's sex club with no panties. Are you mad about that too, Ms. Johnson? That you want me taking your freshly fucked pussy again?" He leans in slowly and kisses the small dip between my neck and shoulder, causing his cock to press into my slicked-up folds and wetting his pants.

Damn him.

I've been gushing girl-cum since running into him, and well, long before that honestly, and the evidence is now all over the front of his slacks. "I'm taking that as a hint my baby girl needs her dick again. Am I wrong?"

I shake my head.

Fuck, why do I think that is hot?

Because I'm a pervert with a fetish for my much older professor, that's why.

And he's not far off from the truth. I came here wanting answers to a few select questions and my suspicions are now answered. So that part is true and I didn't slide my panties off for no reason.

But now that I am here with my legs wrapped around his thick waist and his very aroused length nudging my pink pouty lips, I have a whole other set of questions. Like what sex is like in public and is he taking me to his suite for an encore of last night? And when is he going to strip for me?

I have one of my answers the second I hear the zipper of his slacks. "Tell me no and we walk, no questions asked, sweetness. You know what I want and how I promised to take it the next time." His fingers dig into my ass, spreading my cheeks.

"Yes, Gideon. I want it too."

His swollen cockhead spreads my entrance right before he plunges through my sticky wet juices with one thrust, and I cry out, uncaring of who hears us.

I bury my fingers in his hair and let an immeasurable bliss fill me as his cock tunnels through my walls. I grip him as he pulls out and moan long and low into his mouth when he slowly pushes back in.

Shaky breaths drag from me, and he takes his time making love to my mouth.

"For being mad at me, you're dripping wet and wanting me to fuck you pretty bad."

"Shut up," I squeeze out, trying to draw air in the faster he pumps into me.

"Tell me again you don't want me."

I can't. I want him more now than ever. Dirty and fast.

My head falls back against the padded wall.

"Fuck me, Professor. Fuck me hard and tell me you only want me." Maybe a demand I have no right to, but right now I don't care. I need to hear the words.

"Want you? I can't get you out of my head. Out of my system, woman. You've drugged me and I'm hooked."

He works my body with short, powerful thrusts, and I feel my release building as he takes me with his bare cock.

He anchors a strong arm around my waist and leans back, driving his cock deeper, reaching places I had no idea a man could make me feel. My man.

"This pussy is mine. You're mine. Now come for me, Rosalee."

I peel the mask off just as my release hits, arch into his arms, and scream out, "I'm coming, Gideon. I'm coming. Take me." Let anyone who wants to listen have at it. Let them be jealous of me for once.

I melt into Gideon's powerful arms as I glide off the ledge of my release, knowing I'm safe and he won't let me fall.

My tight sheath grips his length and he grunts his grip like iron around me. Warm cum shoots into me, and I savor the feeling of him finding his release.

He falls into my arms, leaning us against the wall and blocking us both from any onlookers.

"Fuck, woman, what magic have you bewitched me with? My mind, body and cock are no longer mine."

"Cunning question, professor. I was about to ask you the same thing. I see you and my body thinks you own it." My voice is a raspy, sexy number I don't recognize. Then again, I just had sex in a public corridor in a sex club. If there ever was a time to rock my sex kitten vibes, now is the time.

His rumbling laughter feels heavenly against my sensitive nipples, and I inhale sharply, letting my eyes dip closed.

He squeezes one, and then the other, tipping me over into a wave of aftershocks I didn't know was in me.

As he slows and I feel my heart rate drop back to earthly known speeds, I run my hands through the soft thickness of Gideon's hair, pressing my forehead against his. "Tell me, who was the double D blonde chick in your suite naked and ready?"

"Someone who won't be working here for long. A woman who can't take no for an answer. Now, Ms. Johnson. Are you ready to go home?"

"I suppose." I clench the velvety grip of my pussy around his spent cock, and he growls next to my ear, "I mean, I could go home or we could continue this upstairs after you vacate the busty blonde with the beautiful tits."

We're tucked far enough away from prying eyes that I don't feel as shy about his peeling aside the V cut of my blouse and pulling free a nipple as I should be. Good Southern girl and all. It's getting easier to be the wild, naughty student with my professor, and I'm just fine with that.

I lean back, forcing my excited nipple forward, and he groans around the tip as he sucks the peak into the warmth of his mouth.

"I much prefer these," he professes around his mouthful of my tit. He slowly pumps into me, and I can feel him hardening for another round.

I rub the tips of our noses together and wind my arms around his neck, letting my head fall onto his strong shoulders. "Unless you want round two right here, right now and where everyone can see you claim your student, I suggest we move to a more private setting."

He raises his head with a devilish grin on his hungry lips. "I agree. You're coming home with me. I want to see that beautiful tattoo up your back again. I didn't get to fully enjoy it last night."

"Ahh, you like that, did you?" I'd gotten the spine tattoo topped by a beautiful lily at the start of my father's decline with the words: Life is tough my darling, but so are you .

Seeing my dad in pain and fighting through it steeled my own willpower to never give up. As a reminder to always fight, I'd gotten the ink for the tough days. Maybe it was even a little prophetic.

I'm feeling a dreamy sleep come over me after he straightens our clothes and pulls me back into his arms. I pay no attention to where he is leading us as we make a right down one corridor and a left down another until we exit the side of the club and the cool night air hits my heated skin. All I know is that I'm safe in his arms. He settles me into the back of his limo and pulls me into his lap. As the car starts rolling, he tightens his hold around me and it feels possessive.

Primal.

"I own this. I own you, Rosalee. I told you if you took your mask off you revealed your true desires to me you would be mine. Tonight, I'm going to make sure you know who you belong to now and forever."