Ian shuddered, falling against Brad, his cock trapped and aching.
It had been so long since anyone was inside him, and Brad—Brad felt decadent, with his strong chest, his thick biceps. He crowded Ian against the desk, yanked Ian’s shirt out of his pants, and ran his hot palm up Ian’s side.
“I’m—I’m older than you,” Ian panted. “Twice your age.”
“You’re still hard for me,” Brad growled. “You were the last time I saw you, and you still are right now.”
He hefted Ian onto the desk, then grabbed Ian’s cock through his pants, squeezing it so hard that Ian jerked, pleasure humming through his veins.
“D-doesn’t mean we should.”
“Tell me you don’t want this.”
Brad caught Ian’s wrist, pressing Ian’s hand between his legs. Then he dragged his cock down Ian’s palm, grinding hot and heavy against it.
Holy hell, but Brad was big.
Ian wanted every inch of that inside him, plowing through his body, stroking him thoroughly.
If anyone saw them right now, if the department head had the slightest idea Ian was doing this with his son…
Brad pushed Ian’s legs open, stepping between them. Then he sucked Ian’s lip into his mouth, rubbing Ian’s nipples. A jolt of pleasure scorched down Ian’s spine. He bared his teeth, a low whine slipping from his throat.
“Very nice,” Brad rumbled, reaching lower. He squeezed Ian’s balls so they tightened, heavy with come.
It hadn’t even been five minutes, and Brad had all the control over Ian’s body.
Ian closed his eyes. He was supposed to be above this. He was supposed to resist everything that Brad was.
Brad kissed him again, sucking on Ian’s tongue. His lips were soft, his tongue stroking against Ian’s. Then he anchored his hands around Ian’s hips, pulled him to the edge of the desk, and pressed their cocks together. Pushed down on Ian’s. Ian shuddered with pleasure.
What was he doing, his cock rubbing against his student’s?
“That’s all for you,” Brad growled into Ian’s mouth. “Been hard the whole class. Wanted to show you this.”
Ian whimpered. He reached between them, tugging on Brad’s belt. Brad groaned, releasing Ian so he could open his pants. Before he could reach for his cock, Ian slipped his fingers into Brad’s boxers, finding his hot, velvety length, the thick ridge on its underside, the velvety skin at his tip.
“Fuck, yeah.” Brad held Ian’s hand to his cock, thrust against his palm just like he would inside Ian’s ass. Ian’s hole squeezed.
“I need to—to see,” Ian panted.
Brad smirked. He peeled his boxers off his cock, angled himself down so the light of the visualizer stroked over his skin.
It looked just like Ian remembered, except bigger, its skin flushed, its tip wet with precome. Brad gripped his base, rubbed his cock down Ian’s belly, leaving a damp trail over Ian’s skin. Then he curled his fingers into Ian’s waistband, and pushed his cock down into Ian’s pants, so his tip shoved down into Ian’s hair, rubbing against his cock.
Ian’s cheeks burned. Being touched like this? He’d never even dreamed about it. And yet he loved it, Brad fucking into his pants.
Ian rocked against Brad, trying to find more pressure. He wanted to turn over, wanted to spread his cheeks, present himself to Brad. Wanted Brad to see his hole, touch it, open it up with his cock.
Instead, Brad leaned in, smelling like smoke and ash, like walnut and musk. Ian closed his eyes, filling his lungs with his alpha’s scent. He never had an alpha fall into a rut with him, until Brad.
Brad reached up, sliding his fingers into Ian’s hair. He tipped Ian’s face up, kissed him again.
This time, his kiss scorched. His tongue swept into Ian’s mouth, fucking Ian like he would Ian’s ass. Ian trembled. He reached for Brad, found his solid pecs, the grooves of his abs.
Brad was so strong, and yet when he pressed Ian down against the desk, his hands were careful, like he didn’t want to hurt Ian.
So Ian raked his nails down Brad’s sides, trying to make him go harder.
Brad growled. He slipped his cock out of Ian’s pants, then curled his fingers around Ian’s cock. “Want this to be mine,” Brad whispered, squeezing down its length. “Want you to scream my name. Make you come all over the desk.”
Brad caught Ian beneath the knees and hefted his legs up, pinning him open. And now Ian was flat against the desk, opened up like a sacrifice on the altar.
If Brad was the god who would devour him, Ian wouldn’t mind that at all.
“You smell so damn good,” Brad whispered, kissing Ian’s neck.
He closed his mouth around Ian’s scent gland and sucked, and Ian shuddered, pleasure rushing through his body, his nails biting into Brad’s hips. “F-fuck. Please!”
A slow smile crept through Brad’s face, half-lit by the glow of the visualizer. “Fuck what?”
“Me.”
Brad’s eyes gleamed, all molten honey, and Ian’s cock hurt.
Brad unbuttoned Ian’s shirt with shaky fingers, pushing it off Ian’s shoulders. Ian glimpsed the straight, silvery scars on his upper arm, and stopped breathing. A tendril of shame coiled into his chest, cutting through his arousal.
“Wait,” he said, grabbing Brad’s hand. “Not this way.”
Brad raised his eyebrows.
“I want to bend over,” Ian said. “Go as hard as you want.”
Brad groaned, reaching down to pump his cock. “Fuck, professor.”
Ian winced. “Don’t call me that.”
“Then what do I call you? Ian?”
That sounded more intimate than either of them should be.
“Ian,” Brad said, trying the name out on his tongue.
Ian blushed. His name sounded better when Brad was the one saying it.
“Wanted you for so long, Ian,” Brad murmured. “Gonna fuck you good and hard.”
Ian gulped, turning his back toward Brad. Then, he bent over.
Brad sucked in a sharp breath. He dug his fingers into Ian’s waistband, shoved down Ian’s pants, so the cool air of the classroom brushed Ian’s skin.
The pressure at Ian’s hips eased; his cock dragged damply against the desk, leaving a
