Chapter 145/The Taste of His Discipline

Chapter 145: 145/The Taste of His Discipline

Chapter 145

Stephanie’s Point of View

His harsh features hardened like stone the moment I cast that confession, which escaped from between my lips like the final breaths of a dying soul. Every movement within his expansive office faded, and the hands of time ground to a halt for me as I watched the transformation of his strict expressions. His towering stature neared me with a slow, calculated, and unsettling step, his massive build sweeping away all the remaining air between us.

He uttered a single word that emerged resounding, deep, and heavy in the hollow of the silence enveloping the room: "A virgin?"

I tried desperately to read the crashing glances within his blue eyes through trembling lashes. In those suffocating seconds, I did not know whether he was astonished by the existence of a girl with my virginity in this day and age, whether he was repulsed by the concept and viewed it as a burden, or whether he was secretly mocking my belated innocence, which I had exposed to him in such a scandalous fashion.

His tone was entirely dead, devoid of any human expression or emotion that I could cling to for a sense of security, before he added with a definitive, icy detachment: "This was already obvious from your lack of experience and your primitiveness, even in caressing yourself to garner approval."

I averted my gaze downward in absolute shame, feeling my cheeks ignite into a deep, blood-red flush because of his crude commentary. However, his strong, long fingers extended immediately without warning to grip my jaw and chin with a sharpness that pained my bones, raising my head with a decisive strength to force our eyes to meet again despite my attempt to escape.

He delivered in a firm, resolute tone that brooked no debate or retreat: "Raise your head and anchor your gaze into my eyes, Stephanie, when I speak to you."

Damn this tyranny... those blue eyes were not a mere ordinary sea; they were a raging ocean of dominance and control, and I... I was nothing but a surrendered, drowning victim to the waves, relinquishing the last remnants of my resistance into his dark depths.

His large, broad palm slid with a lethal slowness, dragging the rough tips of his fingers from my chin down toward my neck in a cautious motion that made my pulse leap wildly beneath my skin. Then, his hand began to touch my collarbone with an ultimate lightness that stimulated every dormant nerve in my body.

My God, his caresses in that deliberate manner were like burning matches tossed into a field of straw, igniting blistering fires in my depths that not even the strongest forces on earth could extinguish or restrain.

He traced his fingers with a provocative, agonizing slowness over my small breast, pressing lightly against my smooth white skin. With that contact, he sent a blistering, violent shiver that shook my entire core and caused my nipple to erect powerfully against his thumb.

He then continued his calculated descent along the curve of my narrow waist where, in that exact second, I genuinely wished his hot blood would flow into my veins and his hand would remain pinned motionless over my skin forever reaching the region of my hip, before directing his fingers directly and with absolute stability toward my damp pussy.

At that exact moment, with the first direct contact between his skin and my anatomy, I felt as though my soul had entirely abandoned my exhausted body, and that I was soaring into a new life amid the high clouds, weightless and unbound by any restrictions to prevent my fall. He brought his face within narrow inches of my ear until I could feel the heat of his warm lips brushing my skin, whispering in a suspicious, rasped hiss that froze the blood in my veins: "I will show you myself right now how a body is truly caressed."

He placed his finger with stability and certainty over my swollen clitoris, beginning to rub and move it in calculated, geometric, and perfectly accelerated circular strokes. Damn him... what was this overpowering sensation that invaded me? It was entirely foreign to a girl of my ignorance, pleasurable to a painful degree, delicious, hot, and blistering all at once, as if a lightning bolt were striking my pelvis.

My mind, supercharged with desire, failed to find the appropriate words to describe that hurricane ripping through my cells, yet it was so magnificent and colossal that it crushed the final atom of my alleged resistance.

Soft, fractured groans began to emerge from my throat without the slightest volition on my part, due to the electricity coursing through my blood. I tried to suppress them with all the strength I possessed by biting my lower lip, but my escalating panting and rapid, disorganized breaths exposed me completely beneath his strict scrutiny.

While his blue eyes remained anchored with absolute, probing focus on the melted, weeping contours of my face driven by the pleasure, he abruptly withdrew his hand with an unmerciful, absolute coldness.

My entire body convulsed and my pelvis locked due to the sudden deprivation and the shock that struck my senses. Feeling the void and the cold invading my sensitive area, I stated in a pleading, broken, and somewhat elevated cadence: "Professor Thorne... why did you stop? Please..."

A mocking, derisive smile that dripped with condescension formed on his masculine lips, and he stated dryly: "I will not allow you to reach your climax and taste physical relief as long as you provide me with no clear answers regarding those students outside."

He stepped away from the edge of the desk with calm confidence, walking with balanced strides to sit upon his black leather chair with an absolute dominance, leaving me naked, suspended halfway down the path of a severed pleasure in the most hideous way possible. He pointed his long index finger toward me, delivering in a dry language of command: "Come here."

I descended from the flat surface of the wooden desk with extreme slowness and caution, my limbs barely supporting me from the sheer magnitude of the trembling. I was careful with every fiber of my being that my bare feet would not scatter the neatly organized papers and files, and I stood directly before him with a lost frame and broken eyes.

He looked up at me from below while leaning back against his chair, stating with a lethal dryness: "Kneel down on your knees."

I knelt upon the cool wooden floor before him in absolute submission and a blind surrender that robbed me of all dignity, only for his voice to rise again in a strict cadence: "Open your mouth."

His demands were bizarre; indeed, everything he had done and ordered since my feet crossed the threshold of this office surpassed the boundaries of human logic by miles. For that exact reason and because my heart was enslaved by his authority I resolved to execute it without regard for the extent of the strangeness or degradation.

I opened my mouth slowly, and he forced his long fingers, completely drenched in my slick fluids, deep into my throat with a power that made my head recoil slightly. He stated in a probing tone that took pleasure in my humiliation: "Let us see if you are adept at cleaning my fingers with your tongue, Stephanie Miller."

I felt a wave of nausea blended with a slick, viscous pleasure and the sound of my fluids moving over my tongue. I began to suck his fingers with a panting passion and a genuine hunger. In those moments, within the collapsing depths of my soul, I only wanted him to feel absolute satisfaction with my performance and to smile at me.

So, I sucked them powerfully and licked them with all my being, my rapid heartbeats hammering against my ears, while my drifting adolescent mind visualized and imagined what the texture and size of his dick would feel like inside if he were to place it in my mouth right now instead of his fingers.

At that precise second, I recalled what my friend Keira had told me once in the school courtyard with a proud, laughing cadence about how she had slipped away with Sam, the high school basketball champion, into the locker room and sucked his dick with passion, and how it was a magnificent, powerful sensation for her that made her feel her womanhood.

Since that day, I had kept replaying her words, imagining that experience in its finest details with the man who dominated my dreams.

The thread of my tainted, wild thoughts was severed by his sharp voice, which blasted like a gunshot above my head: "What the hell are you thinking about in this position, Stephanie?"

My God... what a terrifying man. Did he possess the supernatural ability to read my thoughts and hidden deviances from a mere glance into my eyes?

He snapped his fingers out from between my lips with a swift, lightning cruelty that left me choking, and pointed his hand toward the clothes scattered on the floor with extreme harshness: "Put on your clothes quickly... and get out of here immediately."