Chapter 31

DIMITRI

She is in a tight-fitted dress today, which should be against the dress code. Her boobs are pressed together, barely held by the blue suit. “Dimitri,” she gives me a small smile.

I haven’t seen her since that night in the club when she made a scene, but based on her expression now, one would say nothing happened between us. “What do you need?” I ask in a grumpy tone.

Anya places a hand on my knee from under the desk, squeezing. My hard-on rebirths itself, and my muscles tighten.

Sage rolls the chair from the opposite end out, seating herself. “Dimitri, I know things have been awkward between us,” she starts. “I’m so sorry for how I behaved the other day. Now that I see, you were just trying to help the poor serving girl.”

Her delusional words can’t even make me angry because I can barely focus on them—Anya has made up her mind to be a brat today.

She is between my legs, her hands caressing my thighs. Sage watches me while I remain speechless, fighting a battle between slapping Anya’s hands away and letting her do what she wants to.

I chose the latter option like an idiot.

Anya then unzips me, taking my cock out from underneath my briefs.

“Dimitri?” Sage calls, and I jerk myself to attention.

“Yeah?” I remember what she was talking about; it is ridiculous. Anya’s no poor serving girl who needs help. Still, I would rather not be fired just yet, so I should probably play nice if she is giving me the opportunity to. “Yeah…I was just feeling sorry…for the poor girl.”

At that, Anya takes me into her mouth, nibbling on the head of my cock. A shiver skitters through my veins, and my legs spread wider.

Sage gives me a pitiful look. “You’re so kind, Dimitri. That’s what I like about you.” She brings a hand over to place it on mine on the desk.

My girlfriend takes that moment to suck me deep, her warm mouth heavenly around my dick. My lips press thinly while my free hand reaches under the desk. I can only manage a small smile as I grab the back of Anya’s head and force her to take all of me.

Her throat clenches around my thickness, and I picture her gagging, trying to keep herself in check so that she doesn’t make any noise.

Sage pulls her hand away. “That was the worst you’ve seen of me, I promise. I was very stressed that day and went off on that girl. But that doesn’t speak for my character.”

She is right. What speaks of her character is the fact that she can’t take no for an answer. Her desperation is pathetic, and it is clear she has no self-respect. After the way I told her off at the club, she wouldn’t be approaching me again if she had any.

This would normally make me go off on her again, but lucky for her, my girlfriend knows how to give a blow job, because all I can think about is filling Anya’s mouth with my cum.

“It’s okay, Sage,” I say while adjusting myself in my seat. The movement makes the head of my cock hit the back of Anya’s throat again, and pleasure erupts through me. It is so intense that my desire to thrust into her again and again almost has me flipping over the desk.

Anya skitters a hand down to my balls, cupping them and crushing them together.

“Do you forgive me?” Sage asks.

“Yes!” I blurt, not to her but to Anya, whose hair I have fisted in my hand now as my orgasm builds within me. “Yes, yes.”

Then my climax bursts through me, propelling my hips forward. My cock drives into the back of Anya’s throat, and my cum releases down it. She swallows it all before she sucks me clean.

Sage blinks confusedly for a second before collecting herself. “Okay, then.” She rises from her seat. “Are you coming to the Halloween party tonight?”

I unfist Anya’s hair, gulping as she pulls her mouth off me. I make quick work of zipping myself with one hand. “What party?” I ask, leaning back and crossing my arms.

“You don’t know? The one the club is organizing. It’s going to be the bash of the year!” Sage chirps, leaning a hip on my desk and rolling a strand of her hair around a finger. “You should come. Everyone will wear costumes, so you’ll be safe behind your antisocial mask.”

She talks to me like she knows all about me, like we are long friends privy to every secret. I wonder what she wishes to prove with this act.

“Yeah…I don’t think it’s my scene. Thanks for inviting me,” I reply politely.

“Please come? It’ll be fun, and you need to get out of your house more often.”

“Parties aren’t really my thing.”

Her face falls. “Whatever.” She straightens, adjusting the collar of her dress to show an inappropriate amount of cleavage. “See you at the party…hopefully.”

She stalks off, and I breathe a sigh of relief as soon as she is gone.

Once the door is shut, I roll my chair away, allowing Anya to come out. She is opening and closing her mouth, applying pressure to her jaw like she always does after she has had me in her mouth.

Her hair is sticking out where I grabbed her, and her makeup is smudged. I like this look on her, especially when she is dressed so primly like a good student. She comes around the desk, planting hands on her hips. “You won’t go?”

A few beats of silence pass before my reply because I am busy taking in the ravished look on her. “No.”

Anya opens her mouth and then slaps the bag on my desk. “Oh, c’mon!” she exclaims. “The party’s gonna be cool. I’m going, for one thing. I even bought a costume.”

“What costume?” I ask, my curiosity piqued.

“Why?” She grins. “I’ll be the slutty zombie nurse. Demonic face with a sexy body!”

“Miss Renée.” I give her a slow tilt of my lips. “That’s so inappropriate.”

She bends forward, elbows on my desk and cupping her face. “Is it, Professor?”

“Parties aren’t really my thing.”

“That’s sad. I wanted to spend Halloween with you. Sad we can’t go on a date without risking being seen.”

I feel like she wants me to say something in return, but the message is clear. We both know we are treading in dangerous territories. Why do I feel so bad about not properly getting to show my love for her to the whole world?

“Anya, I—”

“I hope you’ll come,” she cuts me off. “And thanks for having lunch with me. I had a good time.” She throws me a wink before walking out, leaving me behind with a guilt-ridden chest.