Her Desperate Plea in His Office
# Office Hours The oak door of Professor Kreitzer’s office was heavy. Chloe pushed it open, the familiar scent of old books and leather hitting her as she stepped inside. Her thin, cream-colored sweater was stretched tight across her chest
Chapter 1
The oak door of Professor Kreitzer’s office was heavy. Chloe pushed it open, the familiar scent of old books and leather hitting her as she stepped inside. Her thin, cream-colored sweater was stretched tight across her chest, the hem of her short skirt grazing the tops of her thighs. She’d chosen it deliberately, along with the blond hair she’d left loose around her shoulders. A shield. A weapon.
Professor Kreitzer didn’t look up from his desk. The afternoon light cut across the room, highlighting the sharp line of his jaw, the crisp white of his dress shirt against the dark fabric of his suit. His brown hair was perfectly styled, not a strand out of place. The silence was thick, broken only by the soft scratch of his pen.
“You wanted to see me, Professor?” Her voice was smaller than she intended.
Finally, he lifted his gaze. It wasn’t angry. It was colder—disappointed, analytical. He held up a single sheet of paper. “Your mid-term essay, Miss Diewald.”
Chloe’s stomach dropped. She knew. She’d been so careful, weaving others’ ideas with her own, sure the old system wouldn’t catch the subtle patches. She forced a smile, the one that usually got her what she wanted. “Is there a problem?”
“A significant one.” He leaned back in his chair, the leather creaking. His eyes traveled over her, a slow, assessing sweep that felt nothing like the furtive glances she’d caught from him in the lecture hall. This was deliberate. “The originality report is conclusive. This is plagiarism. University policy is expulsion.”
The word hung in the air, a death sentence. Expulsion. The presidency of Delta Gamma, her spot on the cheerleading squad, her future—all of it, gone. Dust. A cold panic clawed at her throat.
“Please,” she breathed, the word slipping out before she could stop it. She took a step closer to the massive desk, her heart hammering against her ribs. “There has to be another way. A make-up assignment… anything.”
Ethan watched her, his expression unreadable. He placed the damning paper down and steepled his fingers. “The rules are clear. I have no choice.” He paused, letting the finality sink in. Then, his voice dropped, a low, quiet rumble that seemed to vibrate in the space between them. “Unless.”
Chloe froze. The single word was a lifeline, and a trap. She saw it then, the flicker in his dark eyes—not professional concern, but a stark, hungry interest. The same look she’d glimpsed when she’d bent over a library table in a skirt that was definitely too short. It wasn’t a professor looking at a student. It was a man looking at a woman.
“Unless what?” she whispered, already knowing the answer. The air in the room shifted, growing warmer, charged. The scholarly pretense melted away, leaving only the raw, unequal dynamic of power and desperation.
He didn’t smile. His gaze was intense, passionate in its focus. “Close the door, Chloe.” It wasn’t a request. “And lock it.”
Chapter 2
The quiet click of the lock echoed like a gunshot in the silent office. Chloe’s hand trembled as it fell from the brass knob. She turned to face him, her back pressed against the solid wood, as if it could hold her up. Professor Kreitzer—Ethan—hadn’t moved. He watched her, his dark eyes tracking the rapid rise and fall of her chest beneath the thin sweater.
“Come here.” His voice was calm, a command that brooked no argument.
She pushed off from the door, her heels silent on the worn rug. Each step felt weighted, a slow march toward an inevitable surrender. She stopped before his desk, the wide expanse of polished oak a final barrier.
“You understand the terms,” he said, not a question. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk, his gaze piercing. “Your future, for my discretion. It’s a simple transaction.”
Chloe swallowed, her throat dry. “What do you want me to do?”
A faint, humorless smile touched his lips. He stood, the movement fluid and predatory. He circled the desk until he stood before her, so close she could smell the clean, sharp scent of his soap and feel the heat radiating from his body. His hand came up, and his fingers, cool and firm, brushed a strand of blond hair from her cheek. She flinched, a tiny, involuntary shudder.
“First,” he murmured, his thumb tracing the line of her jaw, “you stop pretending this is a negotiation.” His other hand settled on her hip, his palm burning through the fabric of her skirt. “You wanted my attention. You have it. Now you’ll show me you’re worth the risk.”
He applied gentle pressure, turning her away from him until she faced the desk. His body caged her from behind. “Bend over. Put your hands flat on the wood.”
A hot wave of shame and dizzying arousal crashed through her. She obeyed, leaning forward, the edge of the desk pressing into her stomach. The position hiked her short skirt up, exposing the backs of her thighs. She felt utterly exposed, vulnerable.
The first contact was a soft, warning tap of his hand against the curve of her ass through the fabric. “Plagiarism requires correction, Chloe.” His voice was low, right by her ear. “This is your first lesson.”
The next slap was not soft. A sharp, stinging crack filled the air, jolting through her. A gasp tore from her lips, her fingers splaying against the oak. He didn’t pause. Another spank landed on the same spot, then another on the opposite cheek, a steady, rhythmic punishment that set her skin on fire. Each strike was controlled, deliberate, mixing pain with a deep, throbbing heat that pooled low in her belly. Tears pricked her eyes, but a broken moan escaped with the next impact, a sound of pure, abject submission.
He stopped, his hand resting possessively on the heated flesh. “Good,” he breathed, his fingers dipping beneath the waistband of her skirt, teasing the top edge of her panties. “You take your punishment well. Now, let’s see if you can earn your reprieve.”
Chapter 3
His fingers traced the damp seam of her panties, the thin cotton soaked through from her arousal. Each sharp crack of his palm against her ass sent a jolt through her core, his touch a teasing counterpoint to the punishment. He caressed the backs of her trembling thighs, his hand smoothing over the hot, stinging skin before delivering another spank, each one landing with precise, rhythmic force. The dual sensation—the biting pain and the dizzying pleasure of his fingers pressing against her needy pussy through the fabric—drove her higher. A broken, continuous moan fell from her lips, her body quivering against the desk.
“That’s it,” Ethan murmured, his voice thick with approval. He hooked his fingers into the waistband of her panties, pulling them taut against her wetness as he spanked her once more, a final, resonant smack. “You’re dripping for it.”
Chloe was shuddering, a live wire of desperate need, when his hands gripped her hips and turned her around. The hard, formidable length of his cock strained against his trousers, pressing into her stomach. The evidence of his desire, trapped mere layers away, made her whimper.
“On your knees.”
She sank down without hesitation, her fingers working his belt and zipper with frantic urgency. She freed him, her breath catching at the sight of his thick, rigid cock. She took him into her mouth, swallowing him deep, her tongue working the underside. She sucked with a frantic, deep rhythm, as if her very life depended on the taste of him, on drawing out the low, guttural groans from above. The more she felt him throb against her tongue, the hotter she burned, her own arousal a throbbing, neglected ache.
After a long, breathless moment, his hands tangled in her hair, not pushing, but guiding her back to her feet. Her lips were slick and swollen.
“Now,” he commanded, his eyes dark with lust. “Take your panties off. Let see if you can earn your paper back”
With trembling fingers, Chloe hooked her thumbs into the sides of her soaked panties and slid them down her legs, letting them fall to the office floor. She stood before him, completely exposed, the afternoon air cool on her heated skin, waiting for what he would take next.
Chapter 4
He didn’t need to command her this time. Understanding was a tangible current between them. At his unspoken signal, Chloe turned, her breath catching as his large hands settled firmly on her hips. He guided her roughly back against the edge of his massive oak desk, bending her forward until her cheek pressed against the cool, polished wood. Her body arched, her round ass presented to him, her tight, wet pussy exposed and begging.
“This is what you traded for,” he growled, his voice thick with lust. He positioned himself behind her, the swollen, throbbing head of his cock nudging against her entrance. “Take it.”
He pushed in.
A sharp, burning cry tore from Chloe’s lips as he stretched her impossibly wide. Her inner walls clenched in protest around him, the initial, searing pain stealing her breath. But as he went deeper, burying every thick inch deep inside her, the pain melted into a pleasure so profound it was agony of another kind. A choked sob of pure ecstasy replaced her cry.
He began to move, sliding almost all the way out before driving back in with a powerful, possessive thrust. Each penetration sent a shockwave through her, a throbbing pulse that made her entire body tremble against the desk. He gripped her hips hard, his fingers digging into her flesh as he set a relentless, punishing rhythm. He used her body like a toy, pulling her back onto his cock, pushing her down, angling her hips up to plunge even deeper. Twisting her to increase his pleasure. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the quiet office.
His hand came down in a sharp, stinging spank on her reddening cheek, the jolt making her clench around him and cry out. He fisted a hand in her blond hair, pulling her head back, arching her spine as he fucked into her with even greater force.
“That’s it,” he rasped, his own control fraying. “Take every inch. You’re mine to use.”
Chloe could only obey, her mind blank, her world narrowed to the sensation of him filling her, claiming her, destroying her. A coil of unbearable tension wound tighter and tighter in her core with every deep, driving thrust. She was babbling, a stream of broken “yes” and “please” and his name.
She felt the exact moment he lost his rhythm, his thrusts becoming erratic, savage. “Come for me,” he demanded, his voice a raw command.
It was all the permission she needed. Her body shattered. An orgasm exploded through her, so violent her vision whited out. Her inner muscles convulsed around his cock in rhythmic, milking pulses as she trembled uncontrollably, a long, ragged moan ripped from her soul.
Feeling her climax triggered his own. With a final, deep grind, he buried himself to the hilt. A hot, throbbing rush flooded her depths as he came, his own groan harsh in her ear, his hips jerking through each pulse of his release.
For a long moment, he held her there, both of them panting, joined and spent. Finally, he slipped out of her, his hands releasing their vise-like grip. Chloe slumped forward, her body melted, her cheek resting on the desk. Amazing aftershocks still trembled through her.
Ethan gently righted her, his touch now almost clinical. He handed her the discarded panties. “Your make-up assignment will be here, tomorrow at five,” he said, his voice returning to its cool, professorial tone, though his eyes still burned with dark promise. “Wear something very skimpy. I expect full dedication to your… revision.”
He tucked himself back into his trousers, the embodiment of restored order, while Chloe stood on shaky legs, forever changed.