Chapter 21: Secrets and Seduction: Chapter 20

I had called in sick for the first half of the day. For one thing, I was far too overtired, and for another, I needed to sort out my thoughts before I met Mr. Preston.

I had had sex with a professor, with a man I barely knew, and yet there was this connection I couldn’t describe. It went beyond the physical, beyond the romantic. No, it was something else.

Leilah flicked me in the face and joined me at the table in the cafeteria. She had been sound asleep on Friday night, had built a sort of dummy out of several cushions before I returned, and had covered it up so that it looked like I was sleeping. After the heart attack, I almost pissed myself laughing.

We hadn’t talked about that night, and she didn’t pressure me to tell her details, so I didn’t bring up the subject. It would be better for her if she didn’t know.

‘What are you listening to?’ she asked, staring at my display.

‘Emma, a singer from New Orleans. I love her music, listen,’ I took out one headphone and handed it to her.

The blonde with the wild hair used to sing at every now and then, and I promised myself to visit this bar sometime if I was ever in that city.

‘Her voice is amazing,’ my roommate quipped, zooming in to get a closer look at the singer. ‘And she’s hot.’ I rolled my eyes and set the tablet aside.

“The Halloween party is coming up soon. I’ve already thought about the perfect costumes. Well, they don’t match, but it’s going to look sexy. That’s the most important part anyway,” she explained while stealing my fries. I could well imagine what ideas she had looking at the dresses in her closet.

A big grin came over my face. Yes, the evening would be perfect.

“You look different somehow,” she added, and I narrowed my eyes. Different? Oh God, did I look like I’d fucked my professor in the parking lot? “Calm down, Avery. Your face just looks happier.” Leilah gave me a sideways glance that made me suspect she already knew, but was waiting for my first move. Not that I could ever tell her. Too much was at stake.

I was about to say something back when the melodic ringing called for us to go to class.

We pushed past gossiping students, greeting some of them on the way to the classroom. I had made acquaintances with some of them, even texted with a couple of girls. However, most were keeping to themselves and just doing their time as I was.

“Go ahead and save me a seat. I’m going to the bathroom,” I said to Leilah before turning in and disappearing to the restrooms.

Every step made the uncomfortable feeling between my legs flare up. But I also enjoyed it because it was a reminder of last night, when Mr. Preston had mercilessly thrust into me until I thought I’d pass out. I clenched my thighs, sweet warmth already spreading through my lower abdomen.

My steps slowed as I noticed a lovely voice at the next turn—Penelope Arden. I was sure she was on the phone, so I stopped and leaned against the stone wall, straining my ears.

“Of course he’s not a little kid anymore,” she hissed, which sounded unnatural for her. “It’s her own fault. She shouldn’t have provoked him in the classroom. This girl was disrespectful and you know how quickly he loses his temper.” A pause arose in which I did not hear what the other person on the phone was saying. “He’s certainly not risking his future for a mere mortal. Our parents would never let that happen.”

Penelope’s voice grew quieter, more threatening. “And if you believe your words can hurt him, you’re dumber than you think. Oh, you don’t know what I’m capable of doing for the people I love.” With an annoyed snort, she hung up, the click of high heels on marble growing louder.

She was coming towards me, and I couldn’t walk away. It would have been far too obvious.

Why had I stayed? This conversation had only worsened my apprehension.

It was obvious she was talking about Mr. Preston. The bitter truth set in, etching its way into my heart—had I slept with a murderer? No, it couldn’t be. My professor wasn’t a bloodthirsty monster. The unnerving sound came closer, and I dug my tablet out of my pocket. Before Ms. Arden could turn the corner, I pressed play.

“Oh God, kid, you scared me,” she said with a hand over her heart. I put down the headphones and looked at her devoutly.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you.” I held up my tablet apologetically, Emma’s song in the background.

Penelope smoothed her knee-length skirt and cleared her throat.

“It’s okay, now go to the classroom.” I pressed my lips together.

Technically, I still wanted to go take a piss, but looking at Penelope’s face, I’d rather not argue with her. With a quick nod, I said goodbye and headed back in the direction I came from.

Fucking Mr. Preston. Had he just been playing with me? I should have listened to my gut, should have stayed out of his way.

Now all I wanted to do was crawl into my room and scrub every inch of me with boiling water. Those hands, hands that had killed Olivia, had touched every part of my body. And I had let him, knowing full well that he was a suspect, even after finding the scarf. Everything just because I had felt a certain pull between us. I had let him seduce me, had given myself to him. What did it make of me? Was I as fucked up as he was?

My head spun, the tightness in my chest almost unbearable. The hardest part of this whole thing was that I couldn’t let it show. I couldn’t let my professor suspect anything, couldn’t let him know what Ms. Arden had just confirmed to me.

Who knows what would happen to me once he saw me as a thorn in his side? Would he get rid of me like he had gotten rid of Olivia? No…or would he?

The bell rang again, making even the last students in the hallways hurry.

Heart pounding, I stepped into the classroom and stared straight into Mr. Preston’s annoyed face. Nothing in his expression changed as he eyed me from top to bottom.

I didn’t give him a chance to stare at me any longer, and moved to the empty seat next to Leilah, who regarded me skeptically.

“What’s wrong with you?” she whispered, and I shook my head.

“I’m not feeling so well. I should have stayed in bed.” Before she could say anything back, my professor’s irritated voice sounded.

“Shut the fuck up, Ms. James. If I hear one more word, you are excluded from the Halloween party. And I’m sure how eager you are to finally dress up like a cheap hooker.” A diabolical smile came across his lips, and my mouth fell open.

Fellow students started giggling, and I would have loved to punch him in his arrogant face. It was still a mystery to me that the faculty could talk to us like that. But then again, what was normal in this school?

Caleb and Leilah had just said goodbye to me when my tablet vibrated. I pulled it out, knowing who had texted me before I read the name .

I debated whether I should just ignore him. He wouldn’t have the audacity to drag me out of my room, right? No, too risky.

With a straight back and a stern expression, I made my way into the lion’s den. Although I was not a good liar, I still could try not to appear like a frightened puppy.

The door to his office was open, and I entered. Mr. Preston didn’t look up at me as I sat down in the armchair and got out my homework. I hadn’t done it on purpose so that I would have something to work on today.

We spent some time in silence and I strictly kept myself from making conversation. But after I finished the first few math exercises, he turned his attention to me.

“You are so quiet today. Usually, you talk a mile a minute.” I swallowed but didn’t reply. “Are you alright? You know, after yesterday,” he asked more quietly, as if anyone could hear us. I paused in my movement, caught off guard by this question.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I returned curtly, not looking up from the sheet of paper.

“Then what the fuck is going on with you?” he blurted out. For the first time, I lifted my gaze and looked into his strained face. “Did I hurt you, Avery?” My lips parted at the softness with which he uttered the question.

“No, Professor.” He raised an eyebrow. I looked over my shoulder at the open door and prayed he wouldn’t close it.

My performance was abysmally poor, and I just hoped this day would be over soon.

Mr. Preston rose from his chair, walked around his polished desk, and stopped behind me.

“I smell the fear on you, little brat. Tell me, are you afraid of me?” I didn’t dare look up; my eyes would betray me.

Ever since I had stepped into that small, dusty room, my body had been all-armed. I could do nothing about my pounding heart. The fear of the unknown was just too strong. Ms. Arden’s phone call today and the resulting new information had given me the rest. The first conversation between her and the principal had made me wonder. After the scarf incident, I should have pulled the emergency brake, and now I was knee-deep in shit for ignoring all the red flags.

He leaned down, his lips almost touching my ear. “Are you afraid of me?” His warm breath tickled my skin, and I shivered.

“N-no.” Even I heard the lie. His rough hand encircled my throat, but he didn’t squeeze, not yet.

“And now?” My pulse hammered against his fingertips, betraying me.

“No,” I answered more firmly, making him tighten his grip below my jaw.

Mr. Preston’s other hand ran over my breasts, drawing fire on my skin. I cursed my body for the reaction it had to his touch.

My nipples stiffened, poking against my bralette and the white blouse. He ran his thumb over the sensitive spot, eliciting a moan from me.

I felt his vibrating chest pressed against my back, a deep, menacing chuckle coming over his lips. He was the hunter, and I was the prey.

My professor caressed my belly down to my upper thighs.

“Spread your legs, I want to see how wet fear makes you.”

I obeyed.

‘Good girl.’ His fingers slipped under my skirt, and with one swift movement, he ripped my black nylon stockings.

He pushed my panties aside, and I inhaled sharply as he slid his middle finger inside me. All my resolutions had vanished when he started moving it in and out at an agonizingly slow pace.

Oh God, this was not supposed to happen. But why did it feel so good? It was wrong to think like that, so wrong.

‘Fuck Avery, so scared and wet.’ He removed his hand and disappointment rippled through my messed up brain. ‘See for yourself.’

The finger that had just massaged me from the inside lovingly stroked my bottom lip, and I felt my wetness trickle down to my chin. That was one of the hottest moments of my life.

I laid my head back and looked up at him while licking over my lip, his eyes bright with desire.

“Do you want a taste, professor?”

He didn’t let me ask him twice, dropped his head and claimed my mouth. His kiss was ravenous, nothing tender about it. Mr. Preston’s grip on my throat tightened, and a flash of adrenaline rippled through my body. What I was doing here was so wrong, yet it felt so right.

His fingers found my entrance again, and I leaned into his touch as he kissed up and down my throat.

‘Tell me, why are you afraid of me?’ I didn’t reply, just lost in the touch of the killer behind me.

I didn’t know if my heart was hammering from the certainty that he could snap my neck at any moment or from the orgasm that was building.

His movements slowed until they eventually stopped for good, and I grabbed his hand so he couldn’t pull away.

I needed this sweet release, needed it from . Mr. Preston couldn’t stop, so I took control and moved his fingers in and out, fucking myself with his help.

‘Dirty little brat, look at you, using me.’ He let me though, curling his fingers and pressing on that spot that made me whimper.

‘I’m asking for the last time, why are you afraid of me?’ he whispered into my ear. ‘I’ll stop if you don’t answer.’

I swallowed, my mouth suddenly way too dry.

‘I know what you’ve done,’ I rasped. He froze for a moment before continuing his kisses.

‘I’ve done a lot of things. Go on.’ His voice was deeper, more threatening.

I didn’t want to say it, not here when we were alone. But I had no choice. If I sealed my fate now, at least it would be with his fingers inside of me.

‘You killed Olivia.’

My professor laughed out loud, and I felt the tension leaving him.

“So that’s what you think, is it?” I nodded as his fingers took over, more firmly now.

“Penelope and the principal talked about it, then the conversation in your office and…” I paused, clutching the leather of the chair, unable to hold back a moan. “And Olivia’s scarf was in one of your drawers.” A chuckle escaped his lips.

“You went through my stuff?” He clicked his tongue. “Maybe I should punish you, teach you not to touch things that aren’t yours.” Mr. Preston bit my shoulder so hard it hurt.

“But you’re touching me right now.” I arched toward his hand, wanting more.

“That’s right, because you’re mine. I’m the only one who gets to touch you.” A shiver ran down my spine.

In one smooth motion, he was in front of me, yanking me up, and I wrapped my legs around his hips, his hard dick pressing against my soaked panties.

The door was wide open, so anyone could rush in at any time.

I landed on his desk, and he positioned himself between my legs.

“So you killed her?” I wanted to know, needed to hear it from him, but instead he unbuttoned his black slacks and my eyes widened.

His dick was bigger than I remembered, which was probably because this room was better lit.

With a diabolical smile, he moved the tip to my entrance and looked me in the eye as he thrust hard into me. I hissed at the sudden pain that ran through me while he impaled me mercilessly.

“Would you still have let me fuck you, even if it had been true?” Alexander asked. “Tell me, Avie, are you so fucked up that you let a killer make you come?”

He grabbed me by the cheeks and forced me to look at him, his expression a mix of amusement and endless craving. With each thrust, he pushed deeper. “Say it.” His thumb moved to my clit, and I couldn’t take it anymore.

“Yes.”

Alexander’s lips found mine. Raw, dangerous emotions echoed through his frantic kisses.

“I know.”

Alexander This little monster really thought that I was responsible for the death of her classmate. Well, maybe I was, but not in the way she thought. I had enough blood on my hands, but not Olivia’s.

My victims were mostly men who had done some messed up shit. They deserved to die.

I got ten times harder when she said she would have let me have her anyway—my wicked girl. I smiled against her mouth, stifling her moans so no one could hear us through the open door.

Greedily, she tangled her fingers in my hair, pulling me closer to her body.

Her muscles squeezed my dick, and I had to keep myself from coming right then and there.

I hadn’t thought she was still a virgin back in that parking lot. If I had known, I wouldn’t have gone that far. Okay, that was a lie, but still I would’ve preferred to prepare something nice for her, flowers and candles and shit. She deserved more than a quick fuck on the hood of my car.

Yet, that night had created images I could draw on for a lifetime, Avery drenched and with ripped jeans, spread like my personal feast.

I could never forget this moment, either. How many times had I imagined fucking her on this very desk and now here she sat, willing to take every inch of me.

My movements became faster, her breathing uneven.

With a cry of pleasure that I muffled at the last second, she tightened around me, making me come at the same moment.

Fuck, orgasms had never felt so intense as with her. I leaned my forehead against hers, still overwhelmed by the feel of her body.

“Now go play the piano for me.”