The Professor Who Loves Me

Azira

"Azira Sidorov."

I whip around at the sound of that voice. The way it called my name. It could only be one person. One person who could make all the hairs on my arm straighten.

Oh God.

He's here.

The bass-thumping music grows louder and my heart is pounding against my rib cage as he takes the empty seat by my side. His unique hazel eyes are fixed on me like lasers, burning holes into my skin.

I didn't want to come out tonight, but Natalya wouldn't take no for an answer. Now, I'm glad she wouldn't. I'm glad I didn't stay home.

As I glance over at Professor Luigi and our eyes meet, it feels like an intense jolt of electricity pulses through my veins, forcing me to break eye contact and sending my heart rate into overdrive. I open my mouth, sucking in air greedily.

Sweet Jesus.

He's so unbelievably beautiful, with dark hair cut to a medium length and always styled without a hair out of place and a strong jaw with just the exact right amount of stubble. His eyes move from me as he glares at the rest of the students, and I allow myself to look at him again.

I swallow hard as I zero in on those eyes, struggling to believe how utterly stunning they are in the dim light of this club. There is pure, sadistic delight dancing in them as he watches the students cower at his stare.

Most people wouldn't use the word beautiful to describe the man sitting next to me. They'd call him sadistic, twisted, depraved. Most of the students at SA fear him, but I've had a crush on him since the day I ended up at the wrong end of his whip, perhaps even before then.

I swallow hard, wondering what that makes me. Maybe I'm twisted and depraved just like him. It was in ninth grade when I told Principal Byrne to shove his assignment up his ass in law class because I wanted to see what all the fuss was about. I remember so well the moment those normally dreaded words left Bryne's lips.

"Azira, straight to Luigi now."

I remember the fear I felt, but it was mingled with something else. Excitement, perhaps. A desire to find out if Professor Luigi's punishments were really as terrible as people described. The walk to his office I was buzzing with anticipation and then I'd looked into those eyes and the fear had quietened inside of me. They were so utterly beautiful that I couldn't be scared of him.

His accented voice was like butter when I stepped into the office.

"Sidorov, what are you doing here?"

His brow was furrowed, as I'd never been sent to him before. I remember it like it was yesterday. I told him the principal had sent me for punishment and I saw the delight in his eyes. A dark part of him lit up at the prospect of inflicting pain. It had an odd effect, one I couldn't quite understand at that age. A heat pulsing between my thighs and a coiling in my gut.

Once he took the whip to my back, the shame and confusion I felt at the enjoyment almost knocked me off my feet. After that day, I made sure I never got sent back to him because I was too ashamed of how good it felt. Too young and naïve to understand why it felt so good, and I think I'm still too inexperienced to truly understand it.

He glances at me, and there's a flash of recognition as our eyes meet. As if he recognizes the sickness inside of me. And then he leans a little closer and murmurs, "Aren't you drinking, Miss Sidorov?"

It's a simple question, but my mind misfires as I'm not used to him being so close that I can smell the woody scent of him. A scent that has stuck with me ever since that day in his office.

His brow arches, forcing me to speak.

"I had a drink, but I finished it," I say, dumbly.

A whisper of a smirk curls onto his lips, drawing my eyes to them. "Would you like to try mine?" He lifts the glass up and heat unfurls deep inside of me.

I shrug. "Sure." I reach for the glass and our fingers touch, electricity pulsing through my veins.

There's a fire burning in his eyes, as if he's taunting me as I bring the glass to my lips and take a sip of his whiskey, unable to break our eye contact despite the heat inside of me. It feels like I'm on fire.

"Thanks," I say, as I slide the glass back into his hand, allowing my finger to brush against his hand again.

His jaw clenches and nostrils flare, making my stomach churn. "I didn't think you were a rule breaker, Azira. A slacker, yes, but you've only ever been sent to me once."

My stomach churns as I wonder why he remembers that and if there's any significance to the memory sticking in his mind. "I may have succumbed to peer pressure," I reply.

His eyes flash with something undetectable. "Is that right?" His voice drops slightly lower. "Are you worried about the punishment you'll be getting at my hand because of tonight?" There's a sensuous tone to his voice, as if he's talking about something taboo.

I swallow hard. "I don't know what you mean, sir."

He smirks. "I think deep down you know exactly what I mean, Azira." The way he says my name makes my body erupt in flames. "There's a reason you never got sent to me again, and it's not because you fear the punishment I dole out like most of the other students." He shakes his head, a knowing look in his eyes. "It's because you don't understand why you got enjoyment from it."

It feels like he has cracked open my skull and is reading my mind like an open book. My pulse becomes unbelievably erratic as I stare at the God of a man next to me, wondering why he's bringing up my fucked-up reaction to the one time he punished me. Did he know that his punishment made me wetter than I'd ever been in my life? Or that I couldn't stop dreaming about him inflicting pain on me and making me come night after night?

I swallow hard. "I'm not sure what you're talking about."

He chuckles, the sound not friendly at all. "You're a terrible liar, Azira."

"What are you insinuating, sir?" I ask.

It's as if my question breaks him out of a daze as he shakes his head. Those hazel eyes turning cold and shuttered as he stands up and claps his hands, drawing everyone's attention to him.

"As fun as this has been, I'm not all together comfortable drinking with underage kids in a bar. Now, all of you need to head back to the academy."

Everyone grumbles in response to Luigi cutting our fun short, and I can't deny that a part of me is disappointed. I wanted to see where exactly he was going to take the conversation.

Does he truly know how aroused I was when he punished me that day?

Azira

Coach Daniels stands with a frown. "Ah, what's the matter, Blaine? Let the kids have some fun."

My skin crawls as I observe how his attention has been fixed on Adrianna. He seriously doesn't want to give up on pursuing her as he gives her a wink, which results in the most furious scowl I've ever seen cross her beautiful face.

This is a man with a whole different personality at the Academy.

"Care to dance?" he asks her.

She shakes her head, sizing him up and down. "No, thank you."

Professor Luigi shakes his head in disbelief. "Arch, you can't be serious. Where the fuck is Oak?"

Coach Daniels shrugs, not even sparing him a glance. "Fuck knows. I don't care." His eyes are fixated on Adrianna, a plea in them. "Dance with me, just once."

She releases a frustrated sigh before placing her hand in his, allowing the man whore to pull her onto the dance floor. I'm surprised she agreed. Adrianna is the most strong-willed among us.

"Mu'dak," Professor Luigi curses in Russian, as he watches his friend escort Adrianna onto the dance floor.

I've got to admit Coach Daniels is persistent if nothing else, although she's made it crystal clear she's not interested. He's hot as hell, but I can see why Adrianna is reluctant to jump into bed with him, because the guy has had too many students over the years. It's like a game to him.

Professor Luigi reluctantly sinks back onto the stool next to me, his attention flitting between each student.

I'm not sure if it's the alcohol or my raging teenage hormones, but I set my hand on his muscular arm and squeeze. "Come on, Professor. What's the harm in a bit of fun?" I ask, my hand feeling like it's burning from touching him.

His jaw clenches. "You wouldn't survive my kind of fun, Azira."

A shudder races down my spine at the dark, sadistic look in his eyes. I lick my bottom lip, which seems to draw his eyes to them, and all I can think about is how good it would feel to kiss this man.

"Are you certain, sir?"

He shifts on the stool and adjusts his pants, drawing my attention to the firm bulge at his crotch. My thighs clench as I realize he's aroused, and I wonder if I'm the reason. Excitement rises inside of me as I feel a pulse ignite between my thighs. Blaine Luigi has had this power over me since I can remember, but even more so since the first and last punishment he gave me.

He leans toward me and whispers in my ear. "Very few have what it takes. And an innocent little girl like you could never understand the twisted desires of a monster."

A shiver races down my spine as I lean away from him and search his eyes. "Maybe I'm not as innocent as you think."

The smirk that twists onto his lips is downright sinful, as he shakes his head and keeps his voice low. "I can smell a virgin a mile off, Miss Sidorov."

Heat slams into me hard and it feels like I'm burning from the inside out at the look in his eyes. I am a virgin. But how the hell did he know that?

I lick my too dry lips, allowing myself to remain close to him even though every instinct tells me to turn away. "Have you got some kind of radar?"

He shakes his head. "No, normally I steer clear of innocent little virgins because they can't handle me." There's something suggestive about what he's saying, and I know pushing him is dangerous, but I can't help it.

My nostrils flare as I glance down at the bulge in his pants again. "And right now?"

His jaw clenches and his eyes are so full of fire that it makes me want to reach forward and pull him against me, feel those beautiful lips against mine. "Right now, I'm thinking you look rather delicious in that dress."

I swallow hard, excitement and fear at war with one another. On the one hand, it's insane that Professor Luigi is even saying these things to me because I know how dark and twisted, he can be, but it feels like I've fallen into one of my dirty daydreams that I can't seem to stop. "Shall we dance?" I ask, my voice so quiet I wonder if he'll even hear me.

His nostrils flare and eyes flash. "I'm not sure that's a good idea."

Disappointment coils through me, but it's quickly eradicated when he leans closer again, setting a rough hand on my bare thigh.

"But if you really want to, I can't say no to you."

I shudder. The warmth of his skin against mine sends my body into overdrive. A soft moan escapes my lips before I can stop it, making him smirk.

"Come on, then." He moves back and offers me his hand.

I stare at it for a few seconds, wondering what the hell I'm doing. And then, I place my hand in his and let him pull me onto the dancefloor.

I notice that Adrianna looks rather irritated as she glares at Archer Daniels, while he tries to sweet talk her as they dance. I fear he's fighting a losing battle where she's concerned. Out of all the people I know, Adrianna is the most stubborn.

Blaine's hard body presses into mine as he pulls me against him, his hands firmly planted on my hips. "Tell me, Azira, how come you're so good at keeping out of trouble?"

I swallow hard, gazing into those unique, otherworldly eyes of his. "W-What do you mean?"

"In the entire time you've attended the academy, you've only ever been to me once."

I shrug, my body so hot it feels like someone has set fire to my skin. "I guess I'm just a good girl," I say, regretting it instantly as his nostrils flare and his eyes darken.

"Is that right?" His grip on my hips is so tight it almost hurts. "And yet here you are, breaking the rules."

My lips feel too dry as my tongue darts out over it. "I told you I was forced into it."

His brow arches. "Difficult to believe, Miss Sidorov. However, I hope you're looking forward to your punishment for this."

My throat bobs, and I hate that he knows my secret. The secret that I've tried to keep buried ever since that day I was sent to his office, and he took me into the basement. "Not particularly."

His expression is sadistic as he straightens slightly, putting some distance between us as the song comes to a stop. "Such a liar."

Heat slams into me as I drop his hand and try to move away. "I need to get some air," I say.

He releases me, but almost reluctantly as I turn away and rush through the crowd, struggling to work out why I'm running from a man who I've desired for so long. It's fear, I realize. Fear of learning what the hell is wrong with me and why I crave his punishment almost as much as I crave his kiss.

Blaine

"Professor, please. Have mercy!"

Screams fill my ears as I lash the student again with a whip.

When did I become so detached from my humanity?

A question that so frequently rises inside of me every time I have a student down in my basement lately. Perhaps the more important question is, do I even have any humanity left anymore?

The infliction of pain no longer gives me the same satisfaction it used to give me. In fact, this has almost become boring as I watch the welts appear on his back.

The depravity inside of me is becoming more impossible to quench with each day that passes. It's because there's a beast that lives within me that has an appetite for more heinous acts. For blood. I swallow hard and lash him for the last time, my heart keeping a steady, unaffected rhythm. There was a time when this kind of torture used to excite me, but it appears I've surpassed such rudimentary delights.

The boy slumps in the chains as I set down the whip.

"You are free to go." I walk toward him and unclasp the chains, thrusting his shirt into his hands. "I hope you learned your lesson."

The boy, whose name I can't even remember, shakes like a leaf as he grabs his shirt and flees the basement.

That's right, kid, run from the monster before he tears you apart.

The sick things I'd have liked to do to him are almost unspeakable in most people's books. I run a hand across the back of my neck and turn toward the wall where I keep my implements, the thirst for blood almost impossible to ignore as my gut coils and my mind fills with bloody visions. The one rule Oak gave me for punishing students was to never make them bleed. It's a rule that's becoming harder and harder to follow with each passing day.

The bell chimes in the distance, warning me it's time for me to take my senior anatomy class. I clench my jaw, grinding my teeth. There's one girl in that class who has been impossible to ignore ever since that fated night at the bar before winter break.

A night where I let my guard down and got sucked into the moment. I said things I never should have said to a pupil. And now, it's as if she's taunting me to take things further with the dirty looks she gives me in class.

Azira Sidorov.

The beautiful, curvy Italian girl who can't stop making eyes at me. I was too forward with her at the bar when we stumbled upon those rule breakers and now I fear I've only opened a can of worms. She wants me, that I'm sure of. The question is, does she have any idea what that means?

Most of the students here aren't strangers to my sadistic ways.

If she knew what was good for her, she'd never fucking look at me again. And yet, since the news dropped about Oak's rather non-traditional wedding to a student, Azira has been looking at me more than ever. Perhaps she believes there's some kind of possibility for us to have a similar relationship, but what she doesn't realize is I'm nothing like Oak.

I don't do relationships. I'm not like other people.

Clenching my fist, I turn away from my wall of implements and force myself to leave the basement below my classroom. The door to the classroom is left ajar, no doubt by the kid who I just punished.

I allow myself to peer through the crack toward her seat, groaning when I see she's already there, eagerly awaiting my arrival.

The one and only time Azira wound up at the wrong end of my whip opened her eyes to questionable things about herself. To my disappointment, she never made her way to my office again, even after those fuckers broke the rules and went to the bar where we caught them.

Oak gave them collective detention, clearing the old ruins of weeds and debris. Despite my instance that they needed a harsher punishment. I clench my fists by my side, knowing the main reason it disappointed me was because I didn't get to punish Miss Sidorov.

I clear my throat and then walk into the classroom, letting my gaze move freely across the room. Even though there's a clawing need to zero in on Azira, ever since our conversation took a more sexual turn the night at the bar.

I've never been interested in students, unlike Archer. He can't keep his fucking cock in his pants around the hot eighteen-year-old girls, but they've always been too immature for me and my dark tastes.

However, Azira is an exception, and I know why. I know what makes her tick. Those masochistic tendencies she tries desperately to bury ever since I uncovered them in my office three years ago.

I allow myself to glance at her and find she's staring right back at me with those honey brown eyes of hers. Heat coils through my body as I break eye contact and open my briefcase, getting out the senior year anatomy text book.

"All of you, turn to chapter thirteen." I flip open the book to the correct page. "Today we're going to be studying the best poisons to use and what organs they affect." I glance up, finding Azira staring at me, rather than her book, which is still closed.

"Miss Sidorov, are you deaf?" I snap.

Her eyes widen, and she shakes her head. "Sorry, sir. What was the page?"

I clench my jaw, wanting nothing more than to drag her into the basement and show her what she needs to know about me. The memory of her when she was fifteen years old rubbing her thighs together while I inflicted pain slams into me and I shake my head, knowing that the next time I get Sidorov into that kind of position, I'm not sure I'd be able to resist taking it too far.