The Headmistress and Her Professor

She reached up with one hand to tweak the nipple of her hanging breast, the movement sending a jolt of electricity down to her clit that Fiel was now stimulating with strokes of the pad of his tongue. "Yes," she gasped. "Yesss, please." She was so close, the sensations overwhelming her, but still, she needed his permission.

Fiel chuckled and spun her around, throwing one of Melisande's legs across his shoulder. He caught her clit with his lips, suckling and gently brushing the nub with his teeth. One hand slid up her body to cup her breast, massaging. His fingers, finding her nipple, began rolling it and pinching. Without removing his mouth, he raised his eyes to capture hers in a smoldering look.

Her eyes held by his, she grabbed his head with both hands, and felt her climax rising. When it hit, she exhaled the breath she'd been holding sharply, thrusting her hips forward and pressing his mouth firmly on her. Throwing her head back, she came with a prolonged shudder into his mouth, his tongue still working, letting her ride it out, the pleasure so intense she was unable to even cry out.

When she could speak again, she weakly said, "Come here," swinging her leg stiffly down and pulling him up. She kissed him hard then, tasting herself on his tongue. "Mmm," she purred. She licked herself off his chin and his lips, running her hand along the front of his breeches. "Do you want to take them off or should I?"

His hips jerked forward at her touch as he tilted his head back, reveling in the shudders he could still feel coursing through her body. "You," he breathed.

But as she slid her hand inside, cupping him, someone tried the armory door. "No," Fiel hissed, seeming to have remembered something. Melisande looked at him, fearful, not knowing the charm to put her clothes back on the same way he had taken them off. Fiel pulled her away quickly, gathering her discarded clothes and moving further down the racks into the darkness. "Dueling practice," he explained hurriedly. "If it's Regina, she has a key."

Stopping as far back as they could go, Melisande hissed, "Fiel, please," pointing to her clothes in his arm. She knew she was going to leave him aching, but there was no choice. No one could see her like this, know about this indecent side to her. If their liaisons became public knowledge... Fiel muttered "habere", and Melisande's dress, though a bit crumpled and dirty, reappeared back onto her body. She sighed in relief and cast mundi on herself, her dress now clean and wrinkle-free.

No one entered the armory, and when they deemed it safe, that the person trying to gain access had left in search of a key bearer, Fiel pulled Melisande in for a final kiss, whispering in her ear, "Meet me tomorrow morning in my classroom before sunrise," and then regretfully pushed her through the door.

________________

She had lost herself thinking about the past couple of days, and now it was almost sunrise. If she was going to him, she needed to do it now. Really, she knew it wasn't a choice. She had never needed to see him before. But she was drawn to this new experience with him, for now at least, and if there was a chance of their dalliances to continue, she knew she would take it, her pride be damned. Slipping out of her chamber, she descended the stairs from the third floor down to the lower level with the classrooms. Steeling herself, she entered the Charms Room.

He didn't even look up at her.

She made her way over behind his chair, where he was working away. Finally noticing her, he gave her a sheepish grin. "Apologies, bien-aimé. I was distracted."

"I can be distracting, too," Melisande said, her hot breath tickling his ear as she whispered into it ever so quietly.

Fiel raises an eyebrow, but returned to writing. "Oh? Can you now?"

Standing behind him, Melisande kissed his neck, her hands sliding down his chest. But suddenly, she brought one hand up and wrapped her fingers around his neck, yanking his head back and giving his earlobe a bite. She purred, "Are you ignoring me, my Wolf?"

His breath caught as she latched on to his ear. Slowly, he laid down the quill and reached his hand up to tangle in her hair, arching his neck to give her better access. "Je me apologie, bien-aimé. Forgive me?"

She looked into his eyes. "You ignore me, and there will be consequences."

She slid her hand that was gently choking his neck up, her thumb tracing his bottom lip before she slipped it inside his mouth. "Do I have your attention now?"

He sucked on her thumb for a second before pulling back as much as he can, biting the tip. Reaching up, he took her hand and laid open mouthed kisses on her palm, slowly working his way down to her wrist, before nipping at her pulse. "You do... the question is, what are you going to do with it?"

Her eyes were closed in appreciation as he worked his way up to her wrist, but she let out a small gasp when he bit her. Indignant at his question, she stubbornly said, "Whatever I want." She used the hand he was just kissing so sweetly to give him a stinging slap across the face. "Maybe I should still punish you for making me get your attention in the first place."

Walking to stand in front of him, she turned around and sat on his lap, running her hands up his thighs, feeling him pleasantly against her. Then, stiff backed, she informed him, "I have work to do" and, still seated, leaned forward in his lap to pick up the discarded quill and begin her end of month reports.

"Hmm, indeed. It wouldn't do to have the reports unfinished." Smirking, he ran his hands across her hips, massaging gently for a moment before running them across her stomach and up to her breasts. Kneading her through the silken cloth, he leaned forward and began to lay soft whispers of kisses up her spine and the back of her neck.

She did her best to stay focused on, but once his hands found her breasts, the quill stopped moving. She froze in place, head down, trying not to grind back against him. She probably would have succeeded if he hadn't trailed up her back with his mouth to find her ultimate sweet spot - a bundle of nerves in the center of her shoulders, right where her neck ended. Even hovering his lips above it would overstimulate her senses, her body finally writhing when the sensations were too much to handle. Her back arched as she involuntarily gasped for breath, pushing against him. "...Fiel...," she seemed to softly beg, not even knowing what she was begging for.

Deftly, he undid the hooks on her bodice, sliding his hands inside her gown, fingers tweaking and rolling her nipples. Pulling her tightly against him, he ground himself against her round arse, biting the spot between her shoulders. Barely able to breathe, she felt like she was going to cry from the intensity. She pushed against him, laying back on his chest, her hand reaching up to turn his face to hers. She kissed him then, hard, her hand at the back of his head as she arched her back again to push her breasts harder into his working hands.

She slid her free hand behind her in between their bodies. Snaking underneath his shirt, she put her palm on his stomach, wanting to touch his bare skin. He shivered at her touch, releasing one breast to cup her chin as he devoured her mouth. With a soft moan, he turned her sideways, cradling her against his shoulder, trailing kisses and nips across her jaw and down her neck. With his free hand, he finished the job of opening the gown, until she was laid bare. With soft, whisper-light touches designed to tease and tantalize, his fingers ghosted down her body - pinching a nipple, caressing her ribs - until he reached the soft mound between her legs. Two fingers gently stroked, sliding between the folds just enough to feel the growing wetness there before sliding back up to find her clit.

"Fiel...," she exhaled with difficulty. "My entire body feels like it's on fire."

He continued slowly circling her clit, smiling. "Oh good. That was the desired effect I was going for."

She whimpered. "I don't think you understand. I can't function right now."

"Oh, I understand... as I said, that was the effect I was going for," he said in a low voice.

Gulping at his determination to render her senseless, she implored, "Please, give me some time to process before we continue." She looked at him pleadingly. "Please?"

With a growl, he swung her up on his desk, ignoring her faint protests as quills and ink tumbled everywhere. With an evil grin, he caught her eye as he flipped her legs up over his shoulders and pressed his mouth against her pussy, quickly finding her clit. Sliding two fingers inside her to stroke her soft, wet insides, he sucked her clit hard, tongue flicking the tip.

Her body was wracked with head to toe shivers, and she exhaled the word "bastard" at him as she began to cry from the intensity of the sensations. His teeth grazed the soft nub as he lowered his eyes, concentrating on the task at hand. His fingers stroked firmly, searching for the bundle of nerves he knew would trigger the reaction he was seeking. His free hand slid up her body, holding her down as she tried to sit up. When she ceased her struggles, he moved to her breast, tormenting her by plucking the now hard nipple and rolling it between his fingers.

"I hate you," she seethed, her hands gripping the top of her head as she tried to stand the pleasure.

He just chuckled, lifting his mouth from her slit only long enough to say, "I can live with that."

Feeling the muscles in her body tighten as her climax drew near, he suddenly released her. The abruptness of it caused her to whimper again, bringing her hand to cover her mouth. Eyes narrowed, he grabbed her wrists and pinned them above her head against the desk. With his free hand, he ripped his breeches open and pulled her against him, grinding hard. "I'm going to take you now bien-aimé, and to hell with your fucking reports."

She couldn't breathe. She couldn't think. He was a master artist and her entire body was tuned to his touch, vibrating. "...Fiel ... please...," she begged again, the green of her irises more vibrant when ringed with the red lining the whites of her eyes from her tears.

Slowly, he leaned in till his lips barely touched hers. With a chuckle, his tongue flicked out to lick her lips as he whispered, "Please what, Headmistress?"

She looked him in the eyes, biting her lip, and spread her knees wider.

"Fuck me."

She could feel the tip of his phallus press against her for a moment, as a slow, wicked smile spread across his lips. She barely had time to register that he'd released her wrists when he grabbed both of her thighs, lifting her a little and thrusting into her in one smooth motion. He pulled back out, almost fully, adjusting the angle of her hips slightly, and then thrust back in, deeper than before. The pace he set was brutal. He'd given her pleasure before and yet been denied his own. This time, her body was his to savor, to devour. And to claim as his own.

When he entered her, it felt exquisite, her tight muscles gripping his cock as he slid in and out. She took the brutal pace without protest, crying out in ecstasy each time he thrust inside her, two fingers in her mouth while the other hand had gone to her breast. She would come soon, she knew, but she wanted to savor the first time having him inside her as long as she could, raising her hips each time to meet his rough and deep movements.

He yanked her up, mouth latching on to her breast, teeth closing on the nipple, as he pulled her close to wrap her long legs around his waist. Seating himself in her fully, he turned and laid himself on the desk, never releasing her with his mouth as his hands ground her down against his body.

Bent over him, she propped herself on one arm as her other gripped his hair, enjoying the painful pleasure of his teeth on her nipple. Her knees on either side of him atop the desk, she was opened more fully than before, and she circled her hips on top of him, feeling his cock rubbing deliciously inside of her.

She bit his shoulder as he started thrusting up into her, bouncing her on top of him. With Fiel finally releasing her nipple from his teeth, Melisande rose up to sit on top of him, putting her hands on his chest to steady herself as she began to rock slowly back and forth, her head thrown back as she enjoyed the feeling of his hardness inside her. As her pleasure grew, she dug her nails into his chest, and began riding him in earnest, looking him in the eyes, her hips squeezing his sides.

He was breathing fast now, the sight of her riding above him causing his own climax to hasten. The bite of her nails into his chest pushed him close to the edge, and he could feel her body tightening around him. He was determined to outlast her, she would cum first. But the minx had other plans. Holding his gaze, she raked her nails down his chest, marking him, and the exquisite pain of it pushed him over. He threw his head back, unable to stop himself from crying out her name as he emptied himself into her.

Melisande had been close, but she'd already had her release using his body, and wanted nothing more than to please him in return. She'd known she had him when she felt his body tense, her hips still undulating on top of him. But she hadn't prepared for hearing her name on his lips. As he came inside her, hearing his voice cry out her name in his moment of release hit her like a jolt. She had pushed him to his climax, and, with that, he had unintentionally triggered her own. She came hard on him then, nails digging deeper, grinding herself atop him, riding the waves as she felt the last of him spent inside her.

Carefully, she climbed off from on top of him, squeezing her opening in an effort to prevent his seed from dripping out onto the desk. He hadn't asked her where to climax, or for permission to do it inside, but if she was honest with herself, this was exactly what she would have wanted. He was the second man to have ever done that, and she relished the feel as some of his cum ran down her leg.

Seeing the wet trail of his climax running down her leg, Fiel dropped to his knees and slowly licked it up to the top of her thigh. Without swallowing, he rose up to stand in front of her and grabbed her face, kissing her deeply, their tongues sharing the taste of him. "Meet me in my room tomorrow morning," he breathed, touching his forehead to hers. "Same time, bien-aimé."

She nodded her agreement, knowing she couldn't say no. Not now. Not after this. She was his.