Chapter 3 Chapter three
Zara
“What the fuck was that in Kane’s class this morning? And the way he said ‘we’ve already met’? Girl,You need to spill right now.”
Clara’s voice cut through the noisy campus cafeteria the second I dropped my tray on the table. She leaned across the booth, eyes wide with pure gossip hunger. Mia, our friend, a sharp-tongued poli-sci major with pink-streaked hair, was already smirking beside her, sipping an iced coffee.
I slid into the seat, my short black skirt riding up my thighs as I crossed my legs. The embarrassment from Kane’s class still burned hot on my cheeks. “There's nothing left to spill...you saw it. The new professor called me out in front of the entire hall like I was some hungover freshman who wandered into the wrong building.”
Clara grinned. “Yeah, but that ‘I believe we’ve already met’ line? That wasn’t random. Spill, Zara. Did you fuck him already or what?”
“Jesus, no,” I hissed, glancing around to make sure no one was listening. The cafeteria was packed with students laughing and scrolling phones, but I still felt exposed.
“Last night I was at The Velvet Room. Dad cut my card off again...the fucking asshole and I was wasted. Then this tall, silver-fox bastard bumps into me at the bar. I was pissed, so I went full bitch mode. Called him grandpa, told him to go jerk off to his control fantasies, said his dick probably hadn’t seen action in years. The whole saucy, rude-as-fuck routine. ‘Back the fuck off, bastard.’ Shit like that.”
Mia burst out laughing, nearly choking on her drink. “No fucking way. You said that to Professor Darren Kane?”
“Yep. And this morning to my fucking surprise he’s standing there all commanding and brilliant, then he drops that line about students spending nights in bars constituting a nuisance instead of studying, he was fucking referring to me. I have never felt so humiliated in my entire life. ‘Miss Lennox, I said mimicking him please find a place to sit and stop obstructing.’ Bastard.”
Clara shook her head, stealing one of my fries. “Holy shit. He’s hot though, right? That deep voice, those grey eyes, the way he moves like he owns the damn hall. Twice our age and still built like that? I bet he fucks like he lectures.”
Mia laughed, fanning herself dramatically. “Professor Kane. God, even saying his name feels dirty. Those arms when he rolled up his sleeves? I bet he could pin a girl down and make her beg without even trying. The older ones always know what they’re doing. All that experience. Imagine him whispering filthy shit in that deep voice while he’s got you spread out on his desk. ‘Good girl, take what I give you.’ Fuck, I’d let him fail me if it meant office hours went that way.”
“Stop,” I groaned, but my body betrayed me. Heat pooled low in my belly at the image. Kane’s strong hands gripping my hips, that voice dropping low against my ear “You have quite the mouth on you, little girl. Time someone taught you manners… with my cock down your throat.” I pressed my thighs together under the table, annoyed at how slick I was getting just from thinking about it.
Clara smirked. “But you’re thinking about it too, aren’t you? Come on, Zara. You’re the queen of spoiled brat energy, but even you looked flustered when he smirked at you at the end. That warning about being late? He was staring right at you. I think Professor Kane has his eye on the mouthy girl who called him a bastard last night.”
“Fucking assholes, both of you,” I muttered, but I couldn’t stop the flush creeping down my neck. The girls in class had been the worst mimicking him in sweet feminine voices like they were auditioning for his bed. It made me want to roll my eyes and also imagine what it would sound like coming from my own lips while he was buried inside me. “He’s brilliant, though. I hate admitting it. The way he broke down the social contract and power dynamics? Made the whole lecture feel… filthy. Like he was talking about more than just theory.”
Whatever,” I said, rolling my eyes even as my pulse quickened. “He’s twice my age. Forbidden as hell and I’m not letting some arrogant lecturer get under my skin. End of story.”
We dissected him for the next half hour and by the time we finished eating, my head was a mess of anger and unwanted, throbbing arousal.
I left the cafeteria promising to text them later and drove home to my father’s sleek house in Bellevue, still boiling.
The second I walked through the door, I went straight for his home office. “Dad, what the hell? Cutting off my card again? I’m twenty-one. You promised...”
He barely looked up from his laptop. “Zara, we’ve been over this. You need to learn responsibility. No more unlimited spending on bars and whatever trouble you get yourself into at night.”
“Trouble?” I laughed bitterly. “You spoil me for years and then pull this shit right before the semester starts? You’re such a fucking hypocrite, Dad. I’m not a kid anymore!”
The argument exploded from there, our voices rising, accusations flying back and forth. He called me entitled and spoiled. I called him controlling and heartless. It ended the way it always did, me storming upstairs, slamming my bedroom door so hard the walls shook.
“Fine! Keep your stupid money!” I yelled through the door before locking it.
I flopped onto my bed, chest heaving, staring at the ceiling. The fight with my father should have been the only thing on my mind, but it wasn’t. Not even close.
My thoughts kept circling back to Professor Darren Kane.
I closed my eyes, and the fantasies hit me hard. Those powerful forearms from the lecture hall… I imagined them caging me in against his desk, his body pressing into mine while the door stayed unlocked, the risk of anyone walking in making everything hotter. His deep, commanding voice whispering against my neck “Such a filthy little brat, running that pretty mouth. Now you’re going to use it properly for me.”
Heat flooded between my legs. I bit my lip, my hand drifting down my stomach almost on its own. My short skirt bunched up as I spread my thighs, slipping my fingers under the thin fabric of my panties. I was already soaked, aching from hours of suppressed tension.
A soft moan escaped as I circled my clit, picturing Kane’s grey eyes darkening the way they had this morning. “That’s it, Zara,” I imagined him growling, twice my age and twice as experienced, his thick cock stretching me open while he held me down. “Take every inch like the spoiled little secret you are. Moan for your professor. Show me how sorry you are for being such a rude fucking tease last night.”
My fingers moved faster, the forbidden age gap sent sparks racing up my spine
“Fuck… Professor Kane…” I whispered to the empty room, my breath coming in short gasps. I came hard with his name on my lips, the pleasure leaving my legs trembling and my panties ruined.
When the aftershocks finally faded, I lay there panting, staring at the ceiling with a mix of satisfaction and growing dread.
This was so wrong.
He was my professor. Forty-two to my twenty-one. The man I’d insulted like a spoiled brat less than twenty-four hours ago.
Yet the thought of my arrogant, brilliant, twice-my-age professor ruining me in every filthy way possible already had me aching for more.
This was fucking dangerous, but as dangerous as it was I couldn't help but think how it'll be like been in Professor Kane’s bed.
