His dark, hungry gaze connects with mine. “But I won’t. Mostly because I’m so damn wound up, I couldn’t wait even if I wanted to. I need you now. What do you say, baby? Wanna be fucked like the dirty slut you are on top of the dean’s desk?”

“Fuck yes,” I breathe, thrusting my hips into his hand.

“That’s what I thought,” he remarks, getting down on his knees before me. He shoves my legs until they’re bent, and my feet are planted on the desk beside my ass. Thank God you can’t see inside his windows from the outside. “I need you to be quiet for me, Bambi. Can you do that, or should I gag you with my tie?”

“I’ll be quiet.” A shot of adrenaline and arousal surges through my body seconds before he buries his face in my ass, tongue lashing out against my hole. My head drops back, hitting the desk, as I chomp down on my lip to keep from making any noise.

He attacks my ass mercilessly—flicking his tongue around, spearing me with it, before licking a hot, wet trail up to my balls, where he sucks them into his mouth. I can’t help the gasp that comes out of me or the way my legs tremble when he spits on my hole, then breaches the muscle with the tip of his finger. Feather-soft kisses are placed on my thighs as he works his finger in deeper.

After a few moments, he withdraws stands. I pull myself up onto my elbows, watching as he opens the drawer on the right side of his desk. He pulls out a condom and a packet of lube, and my body vibrates with unbridled need.

“You keep condoms and lube in your desk, Dean Philips?” My brow raises as I bite my lips, watching him rip open the lube.

A crooked grin pulls on his face as he slathers two of his fingers, then brings them to my hole. “Wanted to be prepared. I’ve wanted to bend you over my desk since the beginning of the school year.”

Anything I was going to say in response gets caught in my throat as he shoves two slick fingers into me, using his other hand to stroke me. My cock leaks when he crooks his fingers and grazes my prostate, lighting my entire body up. I moan, and he narrows his eyes at me.

“I said quiet. Don’t make me muzzle you, baby.”

“Let me milk your prostate and, ahhh, see how quiet you are, sir.” I’m trying so hard to sit still, but it’s damn near impossible.

He works a third thick finger into the mix. A sheen of sweat lines his forehead and his cock, which is still out, is leaking and so fucking hard. He’s quickly losing any semblance of control he possessed.